I have seen the movie Yellow Submarine more than any other film. This is because, as a child, I had a BETA copy of the film that had been taped off our TV. Without exaggeration, I’ve seen the movie over 200 times. Unfortunately, my taped copy also contained the commercials that played on TV when they showed it, which means I have also seen this…
…over 200 times. (If I, in the future, ever do anything absolutely crazy that lands me in trouble with the law, please remember this fact and use it in my defense.)
It’s also because of this movie that I was acutely aware of who The Beatles were. While most of my 1st grade friends were learning the hard way that Strawberry Shortcake dolls do not taste as good as they smell, I was phoning local radio stations and pleading with them to play songs off of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.
I was six when John Lennon was shot, and remember the moment when I found out. I was channel surfing (back then it was “switching the dial”) when I happened upon the news. I heard that Lennon was dead and starting sobbing. It was all so confusing. My primary association with him was as a cartoon character, and on some level I didn’t understand how that piece of animation had been murdered. It was all so complicated and awful. And probably why I genuinely feared for Scooby’s well-being from then on.
Seeing Yellow Submarine on a weekly, sometimes daily, basis as an impressionable youngster left an indelible mark on my mind and eventual artistic output. And speech choices. For my whole life, and to this day, if someone asks me a “how much” or “how many” themed question, I will at least think, if not say, “Enough to fill the Albert Hall!” in a squeaky, Liverpudlian accent. If I do not know the answer to a question, I will often answer, “Rimsky-Korsakov?” in a sheepish, groveling tone and, if the asker doesn’t say anything in response, I will follow up with, “Guy Lombardo?” (My friends almost never ask why I’m saying these things. What does it say about me that most people don’t think twice that these are my answers?)
Nothing can really be written about The Beatles that hasn’t been written before. Unless you were to write an article about how they saved the Moon from exploding and how Ringo was actually a made out of penne pasta & zinc/Eiffel Tower sauce, but that’s because those things are not true, and exceedingly silly.
So I eschew a more intellectual blog about the Fab Four in lieu of the above mentioned childhood experiences. I hope that’s okay with you, dear reader.
Also, I wanted to mention that Yoko Ono’s made some really neat albums, you guys. Particularly Approximately Infinite Universe and Feeling the Space. I’d like to think that we younger generations could start to give this broad her due. I’m just sayin’.
I still love The Beatles and am happy that technology now allows me to enjoy Yellow Submarine on DVD. It’s out of print as of this writing, but used copies often pop-up in the film depot of Amoeba Music. Although I must say, I do miss little vignettes like these…
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Beatles (88), Beatles 2009 (15), Yellow Submarine (3), Animated Films (1), John Lennon (33), Yoko Ono (14), 1970's (33), Betamax (1), Out Of Print (1), Strawberry Shortcake (1)Recent Posts From Job O Brother
Comments
"comes with everything you see, right cheer." 1970 - 1972, Ideal was the sponsor of Magilla Gorilla on Saturday mornings in the Bay Area, where we watched the kids choice, channel 44, with Kimba, Speed Racer, Ultraman, and the classics - Bugs Bunny and the Roadrunner, and some greats by Hanna Barbera, including the greatest cartoon ever made - Jonny Quest, live action - HR Puff n Stuff, Lancelot Link, Secret Chimp and yes, The Banana Splits (with adventure Island and the Arabian Nights (Siiiize of a Camel! Clap!). Saturday mornings used to be the greatest.
I forgot all about "One hundred thousand ... two hundred and fifty thousand ... Cezannes, Monets, Rembrandts ... The Masterpiece Game. It's the greatest game since Monopoly."
Great stuff. I'd like to get my hands on a set of Bin Bang Boing - a great physics toy.
As quite the fan of Russian classical music (and the Beatles) the mention of Rimsky was not lost on me. The baddies had what sounded like Russian accents (weren't all bad guys Russians back then?) and I took that exchange to mean "you hate all music? Even [our] Rimsky Korsakoff?"
re: "Rimsky-Korsakov" and "Guy Lombardo" For years I've been saying "ancient Chinese secret, huh?" (I can't make myself stop, by the way) met without any acknowledgement of mutual cultural reference point. To the point where I wasn't even sure I hadn't completely invented the commercial or dreamt it or something. So thanks. And thanks for reminding me of "my Husband, some hotshot." I'm already thinking of a million reasons to insert it into conversation.