Jealous Guy: Back in early 1985, when I was 16 and obsessed with Sixties garage (as opposed to being 34 and 25/26ths and obsessed with Sixties pop), I was blessed to find a hairdresser in Maplewood, N.J. who knew how to create the perfect Brian Jones moptop. (That's the haircut that can be seen on the back cover of the Mosquitos' EP, where I'm standing next to Miriam Linna.) Said hairdresser—let's call her H.D. for short, as I've unfortunately forgotten her name— used to regale me with tales of her teenage brushes with British Invasion bands, including one memorable contact with the Beatles. (I know; were there any unmemorable contacts with them?)
It was during the Beatles' first New York visit, when they were staying at the Plaza. H.D.'s aunt and uncle were on their honeymoon and happened to be staying at the hotel at the same time. They decided to try to meet the Beatles and, apparently, had little trouble. It helped that they were older and, as a honeymooning couple, less threatening than the screaming fans outside, plus the Beatles were lonely for ordinary human contact. (I've heard that the same loneliness is evident in the Maysles' documentary of that tour, though I've never seen it.)
As H.D. told it, her aunt and uncle were sitting with the Beatles in the group's hotel suite, when her aunt begged them to call H.D. The couple knew that their niece was every bit as much of a fan as the screamers outside.
So John called, and H.D., needless to say, was thunderstruck. Once she regained her wits, she ordered, "Put Ringo on the phone."
"Oh, you don't want to speak to him," said Lennon. "He's ugly."
"He is not!" shouted the indignant H.D., in her best sprout-girl Joisey accent. "He's better looking than you!"
Even Lennon knew when he was beaten. He handed the phone over to Ringo.
11:59 AM
