The School of Rock

It was our senior year of high school--right around the time that the Beatles' collection of number one hits, 1, was released--and my best friend Kara and I were sitting in her beloved Camry named Bob in the senior's parking lot. She turned to me and said, "I think I love the Beatles." (Something to that affect. It's been eight years now and my memory isn't worth beans. Let's just play along. Is that cool Kara?) Anyway, so there we were, sitting in Bob before another rousing day of classes began when Kara announced her newfound love for the Beatles. Sure, I knew who the Beatles were, I'd heard their music, but I don't think I could have named any song titles or have recognized any songs written after 1965. I knew my mom even owned some of their albums on record. (I should see if she still has those and steal them from her. Not that I have a record player but it'd be cool to have them nonetheless.) But to put it bluntly, I only knew the Beatles upbeat "I wanna hold your hand" type tunes from their Ed Sullivan days. And then Kara played my "Eleanor Rigby."

And thus began the days when Kara schooled me in all things Beatles.

The rest of our senior year was spent tracking down every single studio album the Beatles ever produced which Kara dutifully bought. I purchased several myself but never had the balls to buy The White Album or Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. Call me a pansy, it's okay. I can take it. Kara burned me CDs of all the good songs I didn't have anyway. We spent hours riding around in Bob, listening to Revolver and Rubber Soul or watching Help! in Kara's room. And if you've never seen this delightfully absurd film, you don't know what you're missing. It's, in a word, awesome. Kara would play new finds for me in her car and tell me Beatles history and about the lives of the four members of the band. If Kara had done nothing else in our 16+ years of friendship (and she's done lots) than to school me in all things Beatles related, she would have left a pretty good legacy. I can't look at a Beatles photograph or hear the name John Lennon or Paul McCartney without thinking about Kara and how she helped me love the Beatles and ultimately made me an all-around better person.

So, when David and I were in a store the other day and "Norwegian Wood" (one of my favorite Beatles songs) came on over the store's radio and David admitted to not knowing that it was sung by the Beatles , I was appalled. How could I tell my best friend and die-hard Beatles fan that the husband of her best friend didn't even know who sung "Norwegian Wood"? It was downright shameful. He at least knew the song but he didn't know it was the Beatles. Then, later that night, David randomly started whistling "Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da" and I turned to him and said, very pointedly, "You do know who wrote that song, right? Right?" And he just grinned sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. After informing him that it was also by the Beatles, I decided that it was time that I school my husband in all things Beatles.

That night, I played him song after song: "You've Got to Give Your Love Away" (still one of my favorite Beatles songs to this day) and "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" and "Come Together" and "Tomorrow Never Knows" and "When I'm 64." He knew quite a few, but didn't recognize quite a number. I gave him my copy of 1 and told him to listen to it in his car. Today, as we were driving around, David and I sang along to Beatles songs and I had never been prouder. Next, I think I'll give him Rubber Soul and maybe I'll track down a copy of Help! I won't rest until he's been properly educated.

It's all about helping my husband grow as a person, folks. I'm just that kind of a wife.