Number Nine

2/9/1964...8 o'clock p.m....the Beatles on Ed Sullivan. I was 9 years old, sitting on the floor in front of my family's only t.v. set, eyes glued to the black and white picture.
Ed was enjoying himself, dangling the Fab Four's presence before his captive audience like so much fillet mignon before the starving masses...and starving they were! Pubescent and post-pubescent girls (some guys, too) squealing with each mention of John, Paul, George or Ringo.
Mom, from her perch on the sofa, asked "What's a Ringo?"
She soon found out. To my great relief, she liked what she heard and mostly liked what she saw. "They're nice looking young men." she'd say, "But that hair!" She insisted they only wore it long for "show biz," and that my brothers "shouldn't get any ideas." (they did, but that's another story)
Nonetheless she dug the Beatles, and through the years that's one thing we've always had in common, no matter what battles the Generation Gap threw our way.
I'd heard about the Beatles before seeing them, through the 45rpm records my cousins and sister collected and blasted with their friends. There was something world-changing in their music, the tight harmonies and musicality.
It's like they tripped a switch inside that made creativity a living, breathing necessity in my life.
I was stunned at how deeply significant that evening felt back then...it wasn't about screaming, it was all about listening...about hearing...about knowing my life would never, ever be the same.
So for today, Fifty Five is the New Number Nine...for life changing happenings and the dreams they inspire.