If your inclination at this late date is to pooh-pooh the Beatles' influence on the music and the culture then you're beyond hope and I can't waste the energy trying to change your mind—that's a young man's game. Instead, I'll just say that if the Beatles hadn't come along, I wouldn't be a writer, or any kind of an artist, which means I wouldn't have joined the staff of the college newspaper, which I means I wouldn't have met Katie-Bar-The-Door, much less married her, which means I wouldn't have moved to Washington, D.C., which means I wouldn't have met my good friend Bellotoot, which means I wouldn't have been half the film fanatic I am today, which also means I wouldn't have met Mr. Muleboy, which means I wouldn't have started this blog.
Without the Beatles influence, I'd probably be practicing law in Nashville, married to some blonde Southern Baptist girl with three kids and two cats, and I'd be looking out a window wondering why my life seems so utterly without color or flavor.
Actually, I'd be dead because I'd have blown my brains out years ago.
But because I like the way my life has turned out, I am eternally grateful to the Beatles. So, John, Sir Paul, George and Ringo—from the bottom of the Monkey's heart, thank you.
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