Still Tingling

Right now I'm watching the PBS reprise of The British Invasion on Ed Sullivan, circa 1966, and I am THERE, swooning over the Beatles, the Animals, Herman's Hermits, the Stones, Gerry and the Pacemakers. AHHHH!

Even though it was a million years ago, I can feel my little girl parts going wild, and I hope to God that screamy, steamy, exciting, amazing feeling stays with me forever.

The first Beatles' appearance on Ed Sullivan: Time stood still. My older sister Linda and I were transfixed in front of the tube. No VCRs or DVDs in those days; you just had to be there. The constant lead-ups kept us planted anyway, despite that torturous segment with the corny Italian mouse puppet Topo Gigio. Topo was Really Bad TV, but the wait was definitely worth it.

Linda and I sat about two inches away from the black-and-white Muntz TV screen, and when George, Paul, John and Ringo, with their long bangs, pegged pants and collarless suits started singing, we started screaming, howling, crying, hugging each other, and we could not sleep that Sunday night. I was in love with George; Linda adored Paul. We sat up in our bunk beds drawing pictures of them on our sketch pads all night. Someday, we vowed, we would meet the Beatles in person.

I traded the Beach Boys for the Beatles that night, and my life would never be the same. Forget about schoolwork or anything else; I was a full-time Beatlemaniac.

Despite all our begging, Linda and I never got to see the Beatles perform; they came to Cincinnati and Detroit; both were too far for our mom to take us -- we were just teenagers and getting there was too far from Dayton, Ohio, where we lived for 18 months during the entire British Invasion.

Years later, at a press conference I attended in Detroit for Linda McCartney's line of frozen vegetarian foods, Sir Paul made a surprise appearance in the back of the room. He was magnificent. I took in his earthy scent as he walked past my seat up to the stage where his wife stood, and once more, time stood still. I couldn't breathe. Beatlemania all over again.

I recorded his melodious voice -- no songs on this occasion -- then returned to my desk at the Detroit Free Press to write up the event. I swooned all afternoon, after screaming in my car.

I still have the microcassette with Paul's voice. It's labeled: "Met the Beatle."