Showing posts with label Beatles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Beatles. Show all posts

Thursday, November 29, 2012

George Harrison's Friends


If you’ve read this blog for any length of time you already know I’m a huge Beatles fan. What I didn’t expect was that they’d actually give me something to write about here, something important about grieving your friends.

Today is the eleventh anniversary of the death of George Harrison. It’s also the tenth anniversary of The Concert for George, a superstar musical event produced by his friends in his memory. You can watch it all day today on the George Harrison YouTube channel.

What struck me the most about that concert film – and the emotional documentary Living in the Material World – was the willingness of his friends to talk about their love for George.

In the former, Eric Clapton freely admits that putting the concert together was a way to work through his grief – a way for most everyone involved to work through their grief.

In the latter, the impact of George’s death was felt deeply by all who spoke, but perhaps most surprisingly by former race car driver Jackie Stewart. He talks about how he’d lost a lot of friends in his race career – watched many of them die – but no death had affected him, even ten years later, like George’s.

So, here are some links for you. Enjoy the music (I’ve included the music video of one of my favorite George Harrison solo efforts, “Got My Mind Set On You”). Watch the concert and look at this scene from the documentary, where Ringo recounts his last minutes with George. When it’s over, you’ll probably have the same two reactions I had:

What a good friend he was.

I hope my friends think the same of me.
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Friends Grieving for George Harrison

George Harrison's birthday was a few days ago. He would've been 69 years old. I find it almost impossible to think of that gangly, 20 year old "quiet Beatle" on Ed Sullivan's Show as a senior citizen.

Last fall, I wrote this about him, after watching the excellent "Living in the Material World" documentary about his life. As in "The Concert for George", his friends talk about their love for him. I highly recommend both films, whether you're a Beatlemaniac or not. Because you'll find yourself marveling at the beautiful, complicated friendships he treasured so much:

A few months ago, I blogged about Paul McCartney’s concert at Wrigley Field and how his tributes to John Lennon and George Harrison were so very different: while the song dedicated to John was full of regret and guilt, the one for George clearly showed the love they felt free to express to one another.
HBO has been showing Martin Scorcese’s documentary about George Harrison, “Living in the Material World”. His wife, Olivia, and son, Dhani, spoke fondly and honestly about George. But it was in the words of his friends that you really got a sense of the man: strengths and weaknesses, successes and failures.
One friend admitted that it was still difficult for him to talk about George, ten years after his death.
Another laughed about George being stubborn enough, even as he was dying, to buy a house in Switzerland to avoid the tax man (the subject of one of his best-known songs).
But it was Ringo’s emotional story of his last visit with him, at that house in Switzerland, that stuck with me. By then, George was too sick to get out of bed. Ringo had to leave: his own daughter was in Boston, diagnosed with a brain tumor, and he had to get to her. When he told his friend why he was leaving, George asked, “do you want me to go with you?”
They both knew it was impossible, but it was a measure of the man to want to support his friend, even as his own death approached.
As the almost 4-hour documentary shows, George wanted to leave the world a better place. Most would assume he would do that with music, and he certainly did. But for his friends, the music was almost incidental. It was the love he showed his friends that made their world a better place.
“Do you want me to go with you?”
Most would say, I suspect, that he goes with them every day. So it is with our friends, too. Friends die, but friendships don’t.


Learn more about “Living in the Material World” at George’s website.

Monday, August 1, 2011

My Excuse to Write About Paul McCartney and Friend Grief

Why I love black tshirts & jeans
My friends probably think I wrote this as a flimsy excuse to post a picture of my favorite Beatle, but that’s only partially true.
The media are all over his two concerts here at Wrigley Field (I’m going tonight). “McCartney Mania” has been running on my favorite radio station, playing his music from those ground-breaking Beatles days right through to the present. TV reporters were camped out in front of the ballpark, reporting on the concert and the crowds.
Today’s papers ran his play list from last night, and I saw that he continues a tradition he started some time ago: playing a song in honor of each of his late band mates, John Lennon and George Harrison.

For George, he played “Something”, the iconic love song, on a ukulele. A ukulele??
In the documentary, The Concert for George, the memorial benefit concert held on the first anniversary of George’s death, Paul had this to say about his choice:
“Sometimes if you’d go around to George’s house after you’d had dinner, the ukuleles would come out. One time, not so long ago, we were playing and I said, ‘There’s a song I do on the ukulele.’ I played it for him and I’ll play it to you now as a tribute to our beautiful friend.”
For John, he sang “Here Today”, which he wrote about Lennon. Last December, he performed it on “Late Night with Jimmy Fallon” with the following introduction:
“This song is like a conversation that we never had. I always say to people, if you want to say to someone that you love them, tell them now. Because there may come a point when it’s too late and you’ll think ‘I wish I’d said that.’”
So, Sir Paul, when I see you again tonight – without the band mates I saw you with 45 years ago this month – I’ll be thinking of not just you, but John and George (and Ringo), too.
Rock on, boys, rock on.