..ended up lasting seven weeks.

My calves are still burning.

For those who are interested, the details are behind the cuts. For everyone else, the totality of the last two months can be summed up in three photos:

.. sorry, it's been a few weeks.

Chicago was amazing, as usual. Again, Caroline elected not to go this year -- because her man's birthday happened to fall on the same weekend as the Fest "and I know I'd give him hell if he missed *mine*.." Ah monogamy. Such a strange and annoying creature.

So Erica and I set out alone. We left Friday morning around 10 and got to the Day's Inn on Devon St. close to 4 p.m. I picked a different Day's Inn in Elk Grove Village than the one we stayed in last year because (being near the highway, turns out) it was about $20 cheaper than the on Higgins. Won't be making that mistake again -- getting to the Hyatt from Devon and back was like navigating a Bermuda triangle of odd side-streets, sharp turns and unlit streets. So Day's Inn on Higgins can look forward to seeing us again next year.

Oddly enough, while we -- and a lot of other 'fest attendees were heading east for the convention, Paul McCartney and his new lady were heading *west* on an extended tour of Route 66. They made the news in *Springfield, IL* when they stopped at a Circle K gas station and Paul got out and bought a coffee. O.O Leaving me to gasp and wring my hands: "why couldn't it have been a video store in St. Louis.... ?!?!" All weekend there were periodic updates about where they were. At one point, they camped out in Lebanon, MO. A town I only *passed through a million times* between UA and home... Life is so weird.

I took Erica to Rosati's Pizza -- not the nice hole-in-the-wall that was near Higgins, the standalone restaurant on Nerge. Perhaps they moved, I'm not sure. All I know is while the pizza was still *heavenly* (Erica talked me into getting pepperoni and jalapeno, surprisingly delicious combination) the staff was full of annoying little teenaged shits who ate in front of the customers, stood in little gossiping clusterfucks at the counter, and had the gaul to look irritated whenever you inquired about your order. Eww. Here's hoping the other Rosati's is still there.

Saturday, we woke up early and got to the Hyatt around 9:30. It was odd, remembering how we used to get up at the crack of dawn and get down to wait in line for the Ballroom around 7 so we could get our front row seats for the rest of the day. We really needn't have bothered -- Erica and I had perfectly good second-row seats all day. They ran the new documentary on Neil Innes ("The Seventh Python") first to thunderous, well-deserved applause. That man is a treasure: played with the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band, co-wrote a bunch of music for Monty Python, went on several stage tours with the group, wrote all the music for the Rutles film and albums (and played Ron Nasty, the John Lennon character), good friends with George Harrison.. And such a genuinely *nice* man. I contemplated lining up for a photo with him again this year, but reasoned that I already have two of me with him (one when I was fourteen, another when I was eighteen) and didn't really need to wait in line for another one.

( Neil Innes, August 9 )

Erica went down to the market place and ended up running into "Sharon" who turned out to be Dawn Dunham, a friend of ours from the St. Louis Beatles Fan Club, whom neither of had seen in almost five years. I went down to the marketplace a bit later, bought a new "Free Paul" badge to replace the one I lost and a "Save Lennon" badge, just to be fair and balanced. The vendor also had some gorgeous photos, so I bought a sepia-toned one of Paul (looks like mid-70s era) and a photo-strip of John and Paul from the Shea Stadium concert. The booksellers were there, and I found one who had not one, not two, but four different editions of The Longest Cocktail Party, a book Dad had recommended I read. I bought the original 1972 paperback, the copy I remember my dad owning (though his was literally three parts of a book and several loose pages held together by a piece of yellowed, deteriorating masking tape). I found a black, Sgt. Pepper t-shirt for Caroline and an *amazing* Helter Skelter one for me.

While I was looking at the t-shirts, I ran into Dawn and ended up chatting with her for a long time. She's still working at Purina but Debbie (whose job was outsourced to India) is not. I told her about visiting Debbie's house at Jamie's wedding reception and how the living room hasn't changed in more than 10 years and the weird time-warp/memory-lane trip it sent me on. Lynn apparently is still involved with Dee's brother and also got involved with his weird church, has since quit her job at the early-childhood center and sold most of her Beatles's stuff. Very strange. Mike Manson plays piano at the Big Bang on the Landing -- though no one's gone out to see him play (and my advice to them is *don't*, the man left for a reason). Linda Dana found us soon after that, apparently she'd just run into Erica around the corner. She's been through a divorce since we last saw her, trimmed down significantly and changed her hairstyle. I got a nice photo of the three of us.

( Dawn, Linda and me, August 9 )

I got back to the ballroom in time for some of Billy J Kramer's interview and stuck around for Neil Innes and The Smithereens, who just finished an album of all Beatles-covers a few months ago. I sat in on most of the auction which, reflecting today's economy, was pretty dismal: lots of merchandise unsold. I made friends with Grace, the woman two seats down from Erica and I. This was her first Fest and I told her a lot of my stories from the past eleven years. Erica stood in line for Pattie Boyd and Marc Hudson's autographs. She recounted for Marc the story of how Lynn got his autograph for her in 2003 (when we were forced to leave the Friday morning of the Fest to go be with Dad) and he not only remembered her, he was genuinely pleased to finally meet her. Later, Wendy Ryan from the Fan Club ran into Erica and asked "Are you Becky?" She apparently walked right past me in the lobby. Her daughter Lorelai, a baby the last time we saw her, is now a six-year-old fan. We got pics with both of them.

They had some events going on in the forum on the second floor and we spent the last part of the day up there -- there was a Q & A with the filmmakers who shot the Innes documentary, a presentation by the author of the Beatles Christmas Book, and finally a presentation from Paul Saltzman, the author of The Beatles in Rishikesh. Saltzman's an interesting figure in Beatles history: he was a 24-year-old student whose breakup with a girlfriend had so devastated him a friend of his suggested he learn meditation to work through the heartache and pointed him toward the ashram of the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi's in Rishikesh. He went there, rang the bell at the gates and was informed he could not come in and learn meditation because "the Beatles and their wives are here and we're not allowing anyone else in so as to protect their privacy." In despair, he asked if he could wait until they left and camped outside the gates in a tent for eight days before finally being allowed inside.

His presentation was more on the benefits of meditative practice than recalling stories of his time with the Fabs, which both Erica and I are interested in anyway so we got a lot out of meeting him. I've got a new book to look for next year :) Erica and I ended up getting Sarpino's delivered to the hotel once we got back -- really great "fake Italian," just as the night porter recommended.

( Market Days, August 10 )

Sunday, Erica and I went to visit Justin in Lakeview, got turned around *several* times on 290 ("Who did the municipal planning for this goddamned city?!" "..The mob." "...oh yeah."), and finally got down there in time for Market Days, the largest street festival in the Midwest. Kind of a second Pridefest for Chicago, the festival is four city blocks long in Lakeview and hosts thousands of people. We got to meet Justin's new boyfriend, Ryan, who treated us to lunch and drinks at Sidetracks. He was truly wonderful to meet and get to know -- it never felt awkward talking to him like it sometimes does with Caroline or Missy's men. Maybe because we actually have something in common. I got some passable crowd shots of the festival (holding the camera over my head like the short shit I am) and two really great shots of the gay ROTC group doing their show at the pavilion.

( ROTC Performance, August 10 )

( Lakefront, August 10 )

Once we reached the end of the market, the four of us went out to the lake front and had a little picnic lunch with veggies and hummus, peanuts, trail mix and beer. Though it was a bit chilly, it was a great close-out to the day.

( Picnic, Augut 10 )

We checked out the next day, got some great iced coffee from Dunkin Donuts and started for the highway when I realized I'd left my rainbow cuff bracelet behind in the room. We turned around and the woman at the front desk was kind enough to let me run up and grab it. The drive home ended up being a lot faster and a lot nicer than the ride up to Chicago. I had my Sansa and we listened to Beatle records the whole way home, just as we had up there. When we got to Mile 112 or so on 55, Erica pointed out this *beautiful rainbow* visible in a group of cirrus clouds just overhead. *Gorgeous*. I would have grabbed one of our cameras if they hadn't been in the trunk with our bags. "Abbey Road" was playing, I think. The rainbow remained in the sky until Mile 94 or so and the clouds just broke up. I wonder who was speaking to us just then? *shrugs*

We got home in time for Grandpa's birthday dinner at Friday's. Uncle Matt, Aunt Dolores and the girls both came. Caitlin showed me a new tattoo she got back in June -- the face of Billie Holiday, on her side. The detail of it is fantastic. I may go to the same shop for my next one, haven't decided.

All in all, it was a great trip :) And once again, I can't wait to go back again next year.

Help, I need somebody
Help, not just anybody
Help, you know I need someone, help

When I was younger so much younger than today
I never needed anybody's help in any way
But now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured
Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors

Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round
Help me get my feet back on the ground
Won't you please, please help me

And now my life has changed in oh so many ways
My independence seems to vanish in the haze
But every now and then I feel so insecure
I know that I just need you like I've never done before

Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round
Help me get my feet back on the ground
Won't you please, please help me

When I was younger so much younger than today
I never needed anybody's help in any way
But now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured
Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors

Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round
Help me, get my feet back on the ground
Won't you please, please help me, help me, help me, ooh

-- Help! by John Lennon and Paul McCartney, Sung by the Beatles

..this is certainly going to be interesting.

Erica asked me shortly after she got back to St. Louis if I'd be interested in seeing Ringo perform during his summer tour this year. Dad took E. to see him eight years ago when he performed with the All-Starr Band at UMB Bank Pavilion. That happened to fall on the weekend of my 17th birthday, I was out of town with some friends, I didn't get to see Ringo. So I told her yes. She then told me that Ringo's tour wouldn't be making a stop in StL (surprise, surprise), would I be interested in maybe taking a day trip to Chicago to see him?

Ringo Starr. Chicago. Two of my favourite things in the whole world? *Yes*.

So Erica tells me she'll watch the website for when the tickets go on sale. We agree that she will purchase the tickets online and I'll pay her back the next time I see her.

Cut to last Thursday: I call Erica about picking her up to see our aunt performing at a Kirkwood Theater Guild show and she tells me she's purchased the tickets (mind you, I'm thinking mid-level, maybe $75 seats)..

ME: "Cool! How much were they?"
ERICA: "$465.92"
ME: "........." (thud)

I fell over. My baby sister bought tickets in Row N at Charter One Bank Pavilion. Fifteen rows back from the stage.

*breathes in, breathes out*

I owe $234.46 for my ticket. So does Erica for that matter -- but it's not quite the same for someone who has no car, no car insurance, no gasoline to pay for and is not paying for her own health, dental and vision insurance. Fortunately my state and federal returns have arrived and I can just about make it.

We're driving up there the day of the concert. I'm deducting the money I pay on gasoline from the debt for the ticket. I haven't decided if we're going to stay the night in the city or if we're just going to get back on the road after the concert. In terms of distance, it's not bad. 312 miles both ways, two gas stops -- one on the way there, one on the way back. And we can always stop at a motel in Bloomington or somewhere else on 55.

I love my baby sister. I do. And I know I will feel a lot better about this on July 14th, after we have spent the entire evening 20 feet away from Ringo Starr, but until then *grits teeth*

ME: "Christian rock freaks me out so much."
RENE: "Yeah.. Is there such a thing as Buddhist rock?"
ME: "George Harrison."

Not technichally true (George was Hindu, not Buddhist), but we made the cafe guys at Borders laugh with this conversation.

Ringo hopes you all had a very happy Halloween :P

Wednesday morning at five o'clock as the day begings
Silently closing her bedroom door
Leaving the note that she hoped would say more
She goes downstairs to the kitchen clutching her hankerchief
Quietly turing the backdoor key
Stepping outside she is free

She (We gave her most of our lives)
Is leaving (Sacraficed most of our lives)
Home (We gave her everything money could buy)
She's leaving home after living alone
For so many years
Bye bye

Father snores as his wife gets into her dressing gown
Picks up the letter that's lying there
Standing alone at the top of the stairs
She breaks down and cries to her husband
Daddy our baby's gone
Why would she treat us so thoughtlessly?
How could she do this to me?

She (We never though of ourselves)
Is leaving (Never a thought for ourselves)
Home (We struggled hard all our lives to get by)
She's leaving home after living alone
For so many years
Bye bye

Friday morning at nine o'clock she is far away
Waiting to keep the appointment she made
Meeting a man from the motor trade

She (What did we do that was wrong)
Is having (We didn't know it was wrong)
Fun (Fun is the one thing that money can't buy)
Something inside that was always denied
For so many years
Bye bye

She's leaving home
Bye bye

-- She's Leaving Home by the Beatles, Lead Vocal by Paul McCartney, Backing Vocal by John Lennon

Happy Birthday, John. From me to you.

Chicago was wonderful. I worked 10 to noon on Friday the 3rd and met Caroline up at her house. We got her oil changed and tires rotated, got some lunch at Sonic before topping off her gas tank and taking off.

I'd forgotten how much more enjoyable road trips are when there's another person in the car with you. We listened to Queen and the Beatles on the way. We stayed at a Day's Inn in Elk Village Grove, about ten minutes outside of Rosemont where Beatlefest was being held at the Hyatt Regency O' Hare. The "funny smell" posters on Hotels.com talked about turned out to be an incredibly heavy perfume in the hallways and the rooms. We opened our windows and jacked up the A/C to air the room out. The room itself was incredibly comfortable with nice accomodations and, lo and behold, the inn ended up being next door to a McDonald's ("We just can't get away from McD's, can we?"). Apart from coffee in the mornings, neither of us went there. Caroline found a place called Rosati's near the hotel and we ended up splitting a HUGE deep-dish pizza that was by far the best pizza I've ever tasted in my life. And so huge we had to leave half of it on the table -- we were too full to finish it (after two pieces each) and didn't have a refrigerator to keep it.

The next day, Caroline's friend Natalie came to hang out with us and the three of us took Highway 90 into downtown Chicago to check out the sights. We originally wanted to go to Navy Pier, but the place was too crowded with Saturday afternoon traffic and the parking garages close enough were all full. We ended up circling back and taking Lakeshore Drive (btw, what is this "just you and your mind" shit? *everyone* is on Lakeshore Drive, it's five freakin' lanes), bypassing through Lincoln Park and ending up back on Ohio Street. We spotted the Hard Rock Cafe on Ontario and -- before we got turned around looking for another parking garage -- Caroline pulled into the Walgreen's across the street. We weren't three steps out of the car when we got called over by a man in a tow truck driver's uniform. His job was to sit in the lot and report anyone who parked illegally. Caroline said she'd move the car and we all started to get back in when he said "Wait a minute.." and *winked*. He even used the word "bribe" a moment later.

ME: "Is $20 enough?"
HIM: "Lady, $20 is plenty enough."

I had to walk into Walgreen's and buy a bottle of water so I could hand this guy a 20-dollar-bill without arousing suspicion. I'm still laughing about it -- just another one to add to my list of minor offenses in my short life. Nat, Caroline and I got lunch at a place on the corner called Portibello's (I believe), got some t-shirts at the Hard Rock and walked up and down Michigan Ave for a while. Before we called it a day, we all got ice cream sodas at Ed Debevic's -- where a random waiter kept asking me if I was there to see Lollapalooza. Just me, not even including Nat and Caroline. *shrug* I guess I look the type. Nat said goodbye and Caroline and I went to the Hyatt to check out the events at Beatlefest. We walked around the market place, found a Paul McCartney ring for Missy (which she's been asking for since 2001), an "Om" badge that I thought would be perfect for Erica (my Hindu-studying sister). I bought a vintage "Free Paul" badge that was made during the time of Paul's 1980 marijuana arrest in Japan. We both chatted with Victor Spinetti, one of the fest's guest speakers, in the room where the various guests had tables set up for autographs. He was there selling a memoir he'd written about his experiences as a film actor in Britain in the '60s, being a bisexual man in Europe, his friendship with the Beatles, etc. He was very kind and witty -- when I told him I was going to buy a copy the next day, his reply was "You're too young to read it."

We made arrangements to meet our friend Justin (brknmachine) at a cafe in his new neighborhood in Lakeview. It took a long time to get down there from Highway 90 and across a couple counties -- we seemed to have this habit of getting turned around in the city. When we finally met up with him, we had a late supper at a place called The Bagel and he gave us a walking tour of his new neighborhood. Lakeview was one of the first nationally recognized "gay neighborhoods" and it seems to be something of a counter-culture hub: lots of tattoo/piercing parlors, leather shops, a bath house, some adult shops here and there. One of the buildings we passed had a HUGE mural on the side which turned out to be a Bud Light advertisement, with two pretty boys and a rainbow underscoring the Bud Light logo. Justin had just moved into his new apartment that morning and he gave us a short tour of the place. It was great to see him again.

The next morning, Caroline and I made another trip downtown and took a walk up to Wrigley Field, where I took a photo of Caroline standing under the sign. We got lunch at one of the fifteen or twenty Irish pubs in the downtown area (this one called the Irish Oak) before heading back to Beatlefest. We visited the ballroom for Victor Spinetti's Q&A. My question ended up being the last one of the evening and it was about LGBT Beatle fans -- had he met many, did he have an idea of how the music might have touched us in a different way from the straight community. He didn't have much to say on that subject but when I started to ask my question, there was this lovely moment where I literally *came out* to this room full of at least four or five hundred Beatlefans:

ME: "It's not everyday I do this, but I'm a bisexual Beatles fan."
VICTOR: "My goodness, so am I!"
*huge laugh, round of applause from the audience*

Just extraordinary. And it turns out, another member of beatlesecret was in the audience when I did that, and mentioned it in a post on the comm (see photo #7). I'm so very proud I did that now and so thankful to Victor for being the open, good-humored person he is. I bought a copy of his book, got an autograph and a photo and thanked him for answering my question. Caroline and I went up to the bar afterwards and had a few beers. One thing about the Hyatt: it apparently just underwent some major renovations on the first and second lobby floors -- new tile, one new elevator, new furniture and accoutrements, etc. They also moved the bar, which used to be tucked away in one corner of Lobby 2 to a more central location and opened it up to all age groups -- whereas the place used to be guarded like Fort Knox to keep sneaky little underage shits like me and Jamie out. It was so nice to sit on this comfy couch off to the side, near the front of the bar and stare out at a hotel full of people wearing Beatle t-shirts. Even Caroline said so. Dad always said it was nice to be among "your own kind" for a few days.

We stuck around for the Battle of the Bands, chatted with a couple that was sitting in our row in the ballroom, had a couple more beers and enjoyed the show. I'm a music enthusisast in general but Beatle music buoys my soul in a way no other does. Maybe because it's something I've shared with so many others -- family and friends. We headed out around 10 and ended up going back to Rosati's, getting some spaghetti and garlic bread (btw, this place has the *best* garlic bread I've ever tasted. It is bloody *orgasmic*) to go and had supper back at the hotel.

Amazing. Just wonderful, it just the recharge I needed and it was so much fun, Caroline wants to go again next year.

Sie liebt dich
(Yeah Yeah Yeah)
Sie liebt dich
(Yeah Yeah Yeah)
Sie liebt dich
(Yeah Yeah Yeah)

Du glaubst sie liebt nur mich?
Gestern hab' ich sie gesehen
Sie denkt ja nur an dich
Und du solltest zu ihr gehen

Oh, ja sie liebt dich.
Schöner kann es gar nicht sein

Ja, sie liebt dich
Und da solltest du dich freu'n
Du hast ihr weh getan
Sie wusste nicht warum
Du warst nicht schuld daran
Und drehtest dich nicht um.
Oh, ja sie liebt dich. . . .

Sie liebt dich
(Yeah Yeah Yeah)
Sie liebt dich
(Yeah Yeah Yeah)

Denn mit dir allein kann sie nur glücklich sein

Du musst jetzt zu ihr gehen
Entschuldigst dich bei ihr
Ja, das wid sie verstehen
Und dann verzeiht sie dir

Sie liebt dich
(Yeah Yeah Yeah)
Sie liebt dich
(Yeah Yeah Yeah)
Sie liebt dict
(Yeah Yeah Yeah)
Denn mit dir allein kann sie nur glücklich sein

-- Sie Liebt Dich by the Beatles

I'm so tired, I haven't slept a wink
I'm so tired, my mind is on the blink
I wonder should I get up and fix myself a drink
No, no, no

I'm so tired I don't know what to do
I'm so tired my mind is set on you
I wonder should I call you but I know what you would do

You'd say I'm puttin' you on
But it's no joke, it's doing me harm
You know I can't sleep, I can't stop my brain
You know it's three weeks, I'm goin insane
You know I'd give you everything I've got
for a little peace of mind

I'm so tired, I'm feelin' so upset
Although I'm so tired I'll have another cigarette
And curse Sir Walter Raleigh
He was such a stupid get

You'd say I'm puttin' you on
But it's no joke, it's doing me harm
You know I can't sleep, I can't stop my brain
You know it's three weeks, I'm goin' insane
You know I'd give you everything I've got
for a little peace of mind

I'd give you everything I've got
for a little peace of mind
I'd give you everything I've got
for a little peace of mind
I'd give you everything I've got
for a little peace of mind

-- I'm So Tired by The Beatles

"I remember being 17 and looking at a guy who went to John's art college who was 24 and thinking, God, that's awfully old. He had a 5 o' clock shadow, and I really felt very sorry for this guy. But when I became 24, I thought, This is a fabulous age. And 34, similarly fabulous. And 64, too."

I love Paul McCartney.

..that I'd post a photo of my altar on my journal someday. So here it is.



It's functional. My bedroom used to be the guestroom my grandparents had set up for when all the grandkids came to visit, so that little table was already next to the bed. The plant was already there. After I moved in, my grandpa put some of the things on the table to help me feel at home: the bible Dad got from Anheuser-Busch and Dad's jewlery box. The rest was added by me over the years..

* Purple transparent altar cloth with gold moons and stars
* Sphinx figure: This was a gift to my dad from my mother's college roommate. The caption underneat reads "I find it so boring being a legend within my own lifetime."
* Pink "spiritual" ritual candle: Lavender scented, short poem on it about focusing energy and removing negativity. Believe it or not, I bought this at the UofA bookstore. It came with a little pewter Buddha pendant.
* Gold chandle in blue glass star-shaped holder: I just bought these from Pathways a few weeks ago, not even really sure why. They probably serve some purpose that won't reveal itself until later.
* Action figures: Jay, Silent Bob, Frank N' Furter. I tell people this is my "queer pantheon." Screw the Aesir and Tara. These people speak to me more.
* Living Dead Doll: this was one of the last gifts Tony gave me and I thought she looked lovely standing next to everyone else on my altar. Kind of reminiscent of those Malaysian dream wardens that are supposed to ward off nightmares. And according to the box, she's Irish and her name is Sheena, so it's just perfect.
* Two family photos: the group shot is of my great-grandparents, my father at age 3 or so and his cousin Mary. This was on our wall at home for a few years before I moved out. The 8x10 is of my Dad at about 4 or 5 years old. Tony said "His eyes didn't change, did they?" when he saw this picture. I originally found it in a box of photos Grandpa had in the living room. The glass in the frame had broken a while ago and had a large piece missing. I told grandpa I'd probably get a new frame for it the next time I got paid. THE SAME DAY, he came up from his workshop downstairs with an 8x10 piece of plastic he'd just cut out and fitted into the original frame.
* Beatles Zippo lighter: This was the first *amazing* gift anyone had ever given me. The years I was a smoker, it never left my front pocket. Now I keep it on my altar to light the candles and incense.
* Incense holder w/sandalwood incense stick
* Swisher Sweet Cigarillos box: Purely functional, it contains the flints and lighter fluid for the Zippo.
* Two red resin Chinese happy Buddhas
* "The Liturgy of Nichiren Daishonin" booklet: In SGI practice, we chant our daimoku and then gongyo in the morning and evenings. The gongyo -- two chapters of the Lotus Sutra -- is chanted in Japanese, so the booklet has the phoenetic words printed out for us.
* Glass tea-light holders: From Duffy's in Harrison, Ark. Jill, Theresa and I went up one Saturday last spring to visit a couple SGI members. I actually bought these and a couple tapered candle holders for the express purpose of putting them on my altar.
* A white spool of thread: Nothing significant here, I keep it there for the plants. If you look closely, you'll notice one of the plants is kept upright by a strand of thread tied to Frank's arm.
* Gohonzon: A mandala with Chinese and Sanskit characters used for chanting and meditation in SGI practice. This is the only object from my altar that's not pictured here. When I joined the organization, I asked for an omamori instead of a full scroll, because I didn't know how long I was going to be living at home after graduation and I didn't want it to get damaged in a move. The omamori in question is on a chain around my neck.

I'm in love with this version of the song and the way this scene was shot. Amazingly enough, the director of "Let It Be" went on to direct the borderline-homoerotic "Two of Us."

Christopher Munch - the only John Lennon slasher to ever committ his speculation to *film*.