"It's A Dirty Story Of A Dirty Man"

Well, the 1964 show was a blast. Dad and I both agreed that they were hitting on all cylinders.

The evening overall went quite well. Dad actually arrived in the mid-afternoon (about an hour or so before I was really ready...but as he said, it's not like he's mom. He doesn't care about the state of the apartment). We hit the mall to buy birthday presents for my grandfather, then out to eat dinner at the Olive Garden (delicious sin, thy name is chicken alfredo pizza). After dinner, we went to the concert (walked from the apartment, since 1964 was playing on campus and it was only a 15 or 20 minute walk, and we needed to work off dinner), and dad went home after the show. Really made for a great evening.

The evening really reminded me of two things; two things which I recall time and again, and yet they both seem remarkable and epiphany-esque each time: first, that spending time with my dad is always enjoyable, and second, that the Beatles made music that really transcends time.

My dad is, despite being an accountant, a really interesting individual. He's done a lot of strange things in his life, been a lot of amazing places, and learned a lot of important details and lessons. And he's always eager to share what he knows and what he thinks it will help me to know (sometimes this information is very useful, and sometimes, like the "family secret," it just leaves you laughing for ten minutes straight). The man genuinely wants to see me succeed and genuinely loves me for who and what I am, and that's a wonderful thing to me.

And the Beatles...I know I gush about music in general, especially classic rock, and specifically about Bob Dylan and the Beatles. I talk endlessly about how important their contributions to music and popular culture are for all of us, and just how much their music has changed my life and given it meaning. And a lot of that, I know, sounds like hyperbole...but so much of it isn't. You listen to the songs the Beatles made--joyous, energetic, full of life and love and heartbreak and emotion, so much that it's overflowing and brimming over and can't really be contained...you listen, and it speaks to something in all of us, regardless of our social or economic or religious or racial background. There's something universal in it, something primal that speaks to the hindbrain and reminds us of who and what we are. The Beatles' music is a celebration of life and everything in it, good and bad, lighthearted and somber. I mean, songs like "She Loves You" are so simple, so basic...look at the chorus: "She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah" repeated over and over. And folks ate it up. It's infectious. They sing it with such abandon. Dylan often manages to latch on to the same spark, delivering songs and music that speaks to us on a very personal level.

It's why I love music. The Beatles make it real for me, they make music seem like something that can matter, that can make a difference. When they sang "all you need is love," I believed them. I believed love could fix everything. When Dylan sang "the times they are a-changin'," I thought he aimed to change them right then and there, in the middle of that song. These guys took three minute songs and turned them into anthems, into declarations and statements and stories and epics and humanity, above all, humanity, and we should thank them with everything in our hearts and souls and minds that they shared their music.

Music is that important to me. And my father is the one who showed music to me. Do you understand that? Can you?

~chuck

Song of the Moment: The Beatles, "From Me To You"