A gentle evening rain bathes the harbor docks of Liverpool as a single bass note foghorn sings to the mist. And a salty ocean breeze from beyond boundaries of time and visibility sails in the spirits of the two musicians.
“Paul’s house. His bedroom on the second floor, the one with the light still burning,” John Lennon says to Buddy Holly. “Listen, that’s his Dad playing Gershwin on the piano now. Follow the music mate. We can watch Paul get his award from upstairs. From Paul’s old bedroom. Where we first started writing. Where we tried to be you,” he grinned a John Lennon grin.
And in a Lubbock Texas musical drawl, the other spirit, the one with the big black glasses, Buddy Holly, answered, “John, I am just tickled down to my soul, that you once thought you wanted to be me.” And I thank you for that. And for bringing me here tonight.”
“”One thing I never got to do. See us on TV as we played. But I get to do it tonight.”
The two spirits watch the goings on in the east wing of the White House. Far away in America. Even farther than where these two spirits had been resting.”
“Listen to the young ones singing those songs,” Lennon shakes his spirit head, still amazed. “The songs go on.”
“Look at the President singing!” said Buddy Holly. “Look he knows the words! And look how he holds his wife’s hand. As if he knew why we all wrote all our songs.
“Ah Penny Lane!” Lennon clapped his hands. “That one was really both of ours. Now look. Here comes the trumpet solo. A United States soldier playing that trumpet. What say we give him a little something extra, What?’
“Go John go,” answers Buddy Holly. And the sound of that soldier on the trumpet in the break of Penny Lane. Like a gift from the heavens.
“Now look at Paul’s face,” says Lennon. That face as he is just about to take the stage. Look at how his eyes shine. He looks just like he did back when we were sixteen years old.” Back the first time when I heard him sing this one song.”
“One you did together? One of mine?”
“Hah” said Lennon, it was an American show tune. I never let him hear the end of it. Until we went to Hamburg of course. And had to fill eight hours a day with songs. That was on a slow day. Back then I was happy to do any song and all songs. Just to fill the time!”
“So did you ever tell him how much you loved the song?”
“Of course not! I was John! I would never tell him that. Had an attitude to show the world of course!”
“No, I never told him that I loved when he sang this song.
But I know he always knew.”
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kUjFpdxFWHU&hl=en_US&fs=1]