One thought on “Sunday Toona: Don’t Let Me Down Edition”
I was at a very much old-style – no televisions, no radios, very infrequent visits to the outside world, only occasional newspapers – English boarding school when that last Beatles gig happened.
Two days later, a fellow pupil produced a letter that he had just received from his father and read it aloud to us before the master, Mr Balkwill, arrived to take our English class. It went something like this:
“I was visiting my tailor [in Savile Row] yesterday, when all hell broke loose. The blasted Beatles were playing on a rooftop and the police had to be called.” Etc et fire and brimstone cetera.
First that us boys, a number of us Beatles fans since we were kids in shorts a few years earlier, heard about it. How we wished we’d been there.
I was at a very much old-style – no televisions, no radios, very infrequent visits to the outside world, only occasional newspapers – English boarding school when that last Beatles gig happened.
Two days later, a fellow pupil produced a letter that he had just received from his father and read it aloud to us before the master, Mr Balkwill, arrived to take our English class. It went something like this:
“I was visiting my tailor [in Savile Row] yesterday, when all hell broke loose. The blasted Beatles were playing on a rooftop and the police had to be called.” Etc et fire and brimstone cetera.
First that us boys, a number of us Beatles fans since we were kids in shorts a few years earlier, heard about it. How we wished we’d been there.
Long ago and far away.