Ringo Ruined my Party!

 Well, it's been a great weekend for Beatles fans with all the documentaries commemorating fifty years since the group arrived on the scene. Did I say FIFTY YEARS? Seems like yesterday to me. Anyway, watching the programmes and hearing the songs made me feel all nostalgic.I don't know about anybody else but I can't think of one song by the Beatles that I don't like. There's not many artists you can say that about today - I must be getting old or something! It also brought back memories of a very sad day in my life.....

I can still remember my eighth birthday party like it was yesterday    The Beatles had just been unleashed on the world and I had fallen head over heels in love with Ringo Starr.   

Plans were well underway for my eighth birthday party when I had a brainwave. I would send an invitation to Ringo, he’d be delighted to receive it and would surely come. I quickly wrote the letter…

Dear Ringo, it’s my birthday on December 28^th and I’m having a party. You can come if you like. Then as an afterthought I added, Oh and you can bring the other Beatles as well if you want to. I didn’t want to hurt their feelings by not inviting them but I wasn’t bothered as long as HE turned up!

I asked my big brother if he knew the Beatles’ address – and of course he did. Big brothers know everything don’t they? Soon the invitation was on its way to 1A Liverpool Road, Liverpool.

A few weeks later there was a lot of hustle and bustle in the house as the preparations got under way for the big party. Cakes and jellies were being prepared and the room decorated with balloons. Ringo was going to LOVE this. Quite a lot of people had been invited but there was only one guest I was waiting for.    

Each time the doorbell rang I chased my mum up the corridor. She’d barely got the door open as I squealed “Is it Ringo?” “No, my mum replied, it’s…..” My heart sank. Still there was plenty of time yet. I was absolutely certain he would come. The scene kept repeating until finally, the doorbell stopped ringing.

There was lots of noise and excitement all around me, looking back it must have been heartbreaking for my mum seeing my miserable face amidst all the merrymaking but I just couldn’t understand why he hadn’t turned up, he never even sent me a birthday card!

All I wanted to do was cry. I was glad when the charade ended and everyone went home.

It took me a long time to come to terms with the disappointment of that day but as I grew older I realised why Ringo hadn’t shown. His address wasn’t 1A Liverpool road, what was my brother thinking………..

I've often wondered if that letter is on display somewhere in a Beatles museum..or if it actually got delivered to Ringo.

I know I have already shared this poem with you in an earlier blog but it seems appropriate to end with this one because of the 50th anniversary - and also because I particularly like it. (Am I allowed to say that about my own poem?) Yes, that's what I like about writing my own blog, I can do whatever I choose......

See you next week x

PIANO

In a winter white room

Stands a Grand piano

Silent,

Untouched by human hands

Un-played and silent

Composed

That piano stands

In dark shadows of a jail cell

Sits a man

Silent

Untouched by emotion

Unloved and silent

Decomposing

Sits that man

In the winter white room

And the shadowy cell

A ghostly voice

Is often heard

Echoing through the walls

[1] ‘Nothing to kill or die for

And no religion too’