skip to main |
skip to sidebar
It had been exactly two years since I had seen George Harrison perform at the Salt Palace in Salt Lake City in 1974. I was in Jr. High, and at that time, two years seemed like earth-ages because I was so young. My mother and I had been shopping in Salt Lake and stopped by my Aunt Mae's house in Rose Park to pay my relatives a visit. I always liked going there. While mom and her sister chatted away, I took Ivan, Uncle Bill's dog for a walk in the park where he could run and jump. Ivan was a beautiful Russian Wolfhound who's long sleek body was perfectly suited for running... his favorite activity. I was amazed how quickly he could move across the grassy park. He knew he was entertaining me, so gave it all he had.
When Ivan and I got back to Aunt Mae's house, my cousin Jan had arrived. Being seven years older than myself, she had the full respect of this lowly eighth grader. Knowing that I was the biggest Beatles fan on the Wasatch front, she wasted no time telling me that George Harrison would be appearing on TV's Saturday Night Live (SNL) the coming weekend. I was stoked!
Even though SNL was in its second season, I had never seen the program before, and was looking forward to staying up late to see my favorite Beatle on live TV. Normally, I would watch late-night TV in my own room on an old black and white atop my dresser-drawers, however on this particular occasion, I watched the TV in the family room, in living color. I had my Polaroid Camera ready to snap a shot or two.
Paul Simon hosted the show that Saturday night, and came out onto stage wearing a plump-turkey* suit and sang his hit song, Still Crazy After All These Years. It was so funny. I was impressed how naturally Paul Simon took to the live TV medium. After a commercial break, Mr. Simon returned to play his popular song, Fifty Ways to Leave Your Lover.
The first two skits were great. I was wiwwy wiwwy impwest wiff Baba Wawa's interview wiff Secwatewy of State, Henwy Kissenjew, and Dan Akroyd played a convincing Rod Serling in their Twilite Zone spoof.
After a brief news break from Weekend Update, my sleepy eyes and ears were rewarded with a splendid duet featuring Paul Simon and George Harrison who played the Beatles' Here Comes The Sun** and Simon and Garfunkle's Homeward Bound.
Following the stunning acoustic presentation, Mr. Simon introduced Crackerbox Palace, a short promotional movie by George Harrison, (they weren't called music videos yet). The short film, directed by Eric Idle, was a bizarre Pythonesque burlesque filmed entirely at George's magnificent mansion on the grounds of Friar Park.
At the end of the program, another George Harrison video was played. This Song was a poke at the system which had prosecuted him on a copyright infringement charge for his song My Sweet Lord, which sounds pretty much exactly like the fifties classic by the Chiffons, He's So Fine.***
I became a SNL fan at that point and watched regularly until the Not Ready For Prime Time Players were replaced by inadequates.
* It was the Thanksgiving episode
**Saturday Night Live's brightest moment.
*** My friend Joey recorded a spoof of My Sweet Lord that sounded exactly like George Harrison but sang with SHe's So Fine lyrics.
I can't believe its been twenty-seven* years. When my best friend Jon called, I was standing in the kitchen. The first words out of his mouth were, "Hey, did you hear that John Lennon is dead?" I was shocked and stunned... surprised how hard the news hit me. I mean, I didn't even know John Lennon... not personally anyway. On the other hand, I did know him, probably better than anyone else I didn't really know. I had all of his records, except for the Wedding Album, and could even sing along to parts of Unfinished Music #2... a true die hard fan.
Not for the literalist
John Lennon was a clever and witty lyricist. His words have appeal on many levels, and seem to speak to everyone personally. The world knows his music well, and ranks it among the classics, yet his books are almost unknown. I love to read John's books. His comedic masterful use of word play is taken far beyond most peoples' ability to comprehend and understand. I larfed historically.
Everyone loves you when you're dead
You know, it is kind of funny, (funny is a funny word for it), how right before John was murdered, he wasn't well liked by the masses. In my sphere, he was considered to be a has-been who had been out of the biz for a long time, and wasn't really interesting anymore. When he died, suddenly everyone was his biggest fan.
*Numerologically, 27, is 2+7
"Turn me on dead man" (Revolution #9 backwards) John Lennon
I've always been amazed by people who don't recognize how influential the Beatles were. I'm certain the world would be a radically different place had the Beatles not existed. I've frequently been asked which Beatle is my favorite? I jokingly respond "Yoko, of course!" In reality, my favorite Beatle is George Martin. What? George Martin? You mean George Harrison... right? Uh, no... I mean the Beatles' extraordinary producer George Martin, without whom, the four Liverpoolians would have been less than fab. Sir George Martin is to the Beatles, what icing is to the cake. The Beatles would have been good without Martin, but he made them great.
As I mentioned in an earlier blogue, I was a huge Beatles fan when I was a kid. I even named my Parakeets after two of the fab four. Ringo was a beautiful green and yellow colour, and had a very friendly disposition. He would fly about the room, circling and swooping, and land on my finger. I could walk around the house with him on my shoulder. George was quite different in every way. He (actually she) was a light blue colour, which is why I named him (her) George... IE Blue Jay Way, and For You Blue. It is difficult for me to imagine George Harrison doing or saying anything malicious. *!%@# George the Parakeet, unlike Mr. Harrison, and his (her) cage companion Ringo, was the nastiest of all things that fly. Instead of standing on my finger, like Ringo, George would bite me. He (she) drew blood from every member of my family... mostly fingers and ears, (fortunately no eyes). One morning, when I was about ten or eleven, I removed the cage cover to find Ringo laying on the bottom of the cage, dead, and there stood George with some of Ringo's feathers in his (her) talons. Mom! I yelled. "George Killed Ringo" I exclaimed as I burst into tears. The cage was situated just outside Mom's bedroom door, and she mentioned that she woke up to some commotion coming from the cage early in the morning. I remember taking Ringo's dead body out of the cage, and scolding George for killing him. I wrapped the body in soft tissue paper, and placed the loosely wrapped mummy into an empty tennis ball can which had previously contained three fuzzy yellow/green balls... ironically the same color as the new feathered occupant. A small procession of children walked two blocks to West Elementary School where, at an undisclosed location, we placed the tennis ball can and its contents into the ground, and said good by to Ringo.
In my youth, I was a huge Beatles fan. I knew everything about them, and had copies of every record. Lots of people were Beatles fans, but not in the seventies, when I was into them. At that time, it seemed like everyone was angry at the Beatles for taking away the sixties... as if somehow their split up caused the end of that mythical era. In fact, everyone thought it a bit odd that I was SO into them, and not the popular stuff. I even named my Parakeets Ringo and George, after two of the fab four.
Imagine my excitement when, one day, mom handed me the newspaper and said, "Look at this." I read the headline, "Ex-Beatle Schedules Solo Tour" as I read on, I learned that my favorite Beatle - George Harrison would be coming to play, along with famous sitarist, Ravi Shankar... live in concert at the Salt Palace in Salt Lake City, on November 16, 1974. I certainly wouldn't be missing it, even if it did cost seven bucks.
After the tickets went on sale, mom took me to the Salt Palace box office, and we purchased two tickets for seven bucks each. I wanted the eight dollar seats, but there was no way mom was going to spend that much. Besides, I was happy to have any seat at all. After all, this wasn't just any show... this was a Beatle, an almost god-like creature to me, and I was going to be able to behold him with my own eyes, and hear him with my own ears. I couldn't wait, as I held my dark yellow and black ticket in my hand, imagining how it was going to be. I fantasized that the other three Beatles would make a surprise appearance, and maybe I'd get to meet the Beatles too, and other musings of an eleven year old.
The day before the show, I was in the schoolyard, and an aeroplane flew over. I remember that it was red, and imagined that there was a large white letter H on the tail fin. "Surely, this is George Harrison's plane," I speculated. At the time, my older sister was in college, and she took me to the show. She had been to lots of concerts, so it was logical that she would be my guide as I entered the rock concert scene.
The night of the show was so exciting. The drive from Tooele seemed longer than usual. The islands of the Great Salt Lake were still visible, and the water shimmered as the sun set with spectacular colours of deep red, orange and yellow. This was a magical night. It was dark by the time we got to Salt Lake. The Mormon Temple could be seen from many blocks away, and was bathed in white light, emphasizing the whiteness of the huge granite stones of which it is constructed. A couple of blocks away, we reached our venue, and parked across the street from the Salt Palace, which, like the temple, was bathed in white light, and illuminated the sky.
There were a lot of people working their way through the large heavy glass doors. Lots of different kinds of people. There were some dressed up, as if they were going to the orchestra or ballet. Some were hippies, and there were even a few Hari Krishnas. The thing I noticed most was that I was the youngest person there, at least as far as I could tell. I didn't see any other eleven year olds.
Since our seats were rather far from the stage, I took binoculars to see better. I think my sister suggested it. Despite the distance from the stage, our seats were pretty good. We were situated facing the stage, and could see over everyone. Smoke filled the air, and I had my first smell of marijuana which was all around me.
The lights dimmed, and the arena exploded with a roar of excited fans. A man walked onto the dark stage, and said, "Blah blah blah is pleased to welcome George Harrison!" More roaring ensued as the lights and music began simultaneously.
George kicked off the show with a song I would soon learn was called "Hari's On Tour Express," an instrumental, and first track of his (then) soon to be released Dark Horse album. As I peered through my spy glasses, I could see that George was wearing a suit coat over a t shirt, and at a certain point in the song, would give his leg a bit of a lift, almost a small kick, as he played "Express."
Except for the new Dark Horse material, I knew all the songs he played, and was surprised when he played "In My Life," a Lennon song. At the completion of that song, he said, "God bless John Lennon, wherever he is." He then announced that he would return for the third portion of the show, and introduced Ravi Shankar along with family and friends who performed for the second portion.
I loved the Indian music. It was wonderful to observe such talented and gifted musicianship. They left the stage to an appreciative applause which seemed to last a lunchtime. They returned to the stage for one last gracious bow. The stage hands were busy setting up drums guitars and etc. again, and before long, the lights dimmed again, and George came out on stage alone and played "Here Comes The Sun," and it was more than "all right..." it was great! He was no longer wearing the suit coat, and I could now see that it was a Dark Horse logo on his T shirt.
George introduced his band, and allowed keyboardist Billy Preston to play a couple of his hit songs... ie. "Will it Go Round In Circles?" and "Nothin' from Nothin." The band played a few more songs and left the stage.
Again, the crowd erupted in a roar, as thousands of Bic lighters and matches suddenly illuminated the interior of the arena. I even saw some wax cups on fire. The stomping, roaring and burning continued for some time, until George and the band came back out on stage. For the encore, he played the song "Dark Horse" and lowered a huge flag above the stage with the Dark Horse image on it. "Thank you for coming... good night," were George's last words that night.
As we filed out of the Salt Palace Arena, I noticed that my ears were ringing as my sister commented, "That was the best concert I have ever seen." I knew it was the best one I had ever seen... and may still be. In Y2K, I took my then ten year old son to his favorite band and first concert. King Crimson at the Fillmore in San Francisco. It was phantastique!
Following the stunning acoustic presentation, Mr. Simon introduced Crackerbox Palace, a short promotional movie by George Harrison, (they weren't called music videos yet). The short film, directed by Eric Idle, was a bizarre Pythonesque burlesque filmed entirely at George's magnificent mansion on the grounds of Friar Park.
