I, I, Me, Me, MINE!

So, today was a beautiful day in Sarrebourg (something rare). Sunny and 55 degrees (I know, okay. I'm talking about the weather, but, from an anthropological perspective, it's very important. It influences the people and their culture!) I almost exposed my pasty white legs for the first time with a mini dress, but decided against it, knowing that the French can be weird about that stuff.

For instance, one is much more likely to see boobies on a commercial or on a magazine cover than to see a girl showing cleavage. Revealing clothing is not their style, whereas in the USA it's the exact opposite (no nudity, but a lot of cleavage).


Okay, so I digressed. Back to the sun, it was the first day like this after a snowy winter, and when this happens after every winter, I am reminded of "Here Comes the Sun" by The Beatles.

  Senior year in high school, I had a crappy winter full of stress and other things I don't want to discuss.

On the first bright day of Spring, I was searching for Abbey Road, but couldn't find it. So my Dad and I went to buy another one. On the way home, we listened to "Here Comes the Sun" and I almost cried. I definitely teared up. It gave me hope:

Little darling
It's been a long, cold, lonely winter
Little darling
It feels like years since it's been here

Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun, and I say
It's alright

Little darling

The smiles returning to the faces
Little darling
It seems like years since it's been here

So, it felt like George Harrison was singing to me.

Plus my love affair with The Beatles goes way back. The first CD I asked for for Christmas when I was 9 was a Beatles album. In addition, I have a shared love for the band with my mother, with whom I used to sing the lyrics of Abbey Road, Revolver or The Beatles for Sale.

The Beatles even inspired a painting of mine. Hmmm....guess what song it was?

And I acknowledge the fact that saying you love The Beatles is like saying you love puppies...but still...

After smell, music is the greatest trigger of memories. You associate albums with a certain period in your life, or with a certain relationship. Sometimes, that can ruin a certain group, because it brings up painful memories. But The Beatles ain't like that. Nick Hornby puts it best in his book High Fidelity:

"I’ll be playing the Beatles when I get home…The Beatles were bubblegum cards and Help at the Saturday morning cinema and toy plastic guitars and singing ‘Yellow Submarine’ at the top of my voice in the back row of the coach on school trips. They belonged to me, not to me and Laura, or me and Charlie…and though they’ll make me feel something, they won’t make me feel anything bad."

 

 So there you have it. The Beatles are MINE and always will be. "I, I, ME, ME, MINE!!"