Legend P.I.D in Venice...
This legend inspired my tale
October
18, 1966, Apple studios, London
They
were meeting from a few minutes in the large conference room, which
they called "Rectangle" because of its shape; The
undisputed manager of Beatles, Brian Epstein, was seated down in the
middle of the imperial table. Despite his young age, he was crucial
for
the success of the band; As usual, his vice Jimmy was the last to
arrive. This meeting had been arranged for some time and involved the
whole staff, for this reason had been recommended the maximum
punctuality, so this time Epstein didn't skip over and rebuked him
with heavy sarcasm. Those present couldn't kept from laughing, and
the embarrassment of Jimmy increased them. He stiffened like a child,
hung his head down, folded his hands behind his back, then headed for
the first free chair, without making a sound.
The
manager, as the good orator he was, calmed down his voice and
continued from where it was interrupted.
«We
have to boost the sales of Revolver by Christmas, but especially we
have to appease the embittered hearts of Catholics, who are irritated
with John, when he declared that the Beatles were more famous than
Jesus.»
Lennon
smiled with satisfaction. The others looked him puzzled, expecting a
second outburst that never came. Instead he complimented the
incisiveness of the sentence.
«Now
we must go back to good, nice and funny, so pull out of all the ideas
you have in your head.»
It
took some hours and a some cigarette break, as it was strictly
forbidden to smoke in the presence of Epstein. Among the many
proposals launched, one of them slowly took substance and liked them
immediately.
«Producing
45s singles with a live side? It might go well ... it's innovative!
However, the recording must be done in an ideal place for
reconciliation with religious fanatics who criticize us».
Television
studios and performance in small venues were immediately excluded.
«We
need a big square that can contain a large audience.»
They
decided to write on pieces of paper the names of their favorite
cities, then they would be pitted in a suitable container.
A
couple of minutes later, they started the counting, Ringo scrutinized
and, one by one, the cream of cities was discarded for one reason or
another, until the drummer pulled out the deciding ticket, as it was
understood by the expression on his face.
«Venice!».
I
think everyone thought about the famous Piazza San Marco, with
sumptuous palaces that surround it.
There
was not much to talk about, everyone approved it.
Epstein
thought to reward with a gift the person who had the insight to write
it, but surprisingly no one stepped forward.
He
dismissed those present by assigning each one a task that ranged from
contacting the impresario Leo Waechter, organizer of the previous
year's Italian tour, as well as the lagoon authority to get all the
permits in record time. The Italian reply was likewise timely, the
concert date was set for November 10 at 12.00 a.m.
Venice,
November 9 - "Marco Polo" Airport
The
loudspeaker warned that the private jet of Beatles had landed, a gasp
rises from the crowd, a sea of young people started running in the
direction of the terrace, someone fell down risking of being
trampled.
Within
minutes they became an army, someone raised colorful banners, some
cried, colorful T-shirts, tight pants, short skirts, a rowdy and
exhibitionist humanity happy to express their enthusiasm. Before
bring down from the plane the Beatles, their impresario Waechter
decided to cover alone the short drive from the runway to the
airport, to make sure that the fans were firmly held by the police.
When he was convinced that everything was all right, he gave way and
the four got out followed by their staff, while the loudspeaker
chanting notes of Twist and Shout.
The
excitement went up and became collective madness: bedlam, dizziness,
seizures. A group of young people tore the shirt off his back. A
blonde rolled on herself. All shook their heads, waved handkerchiefs,
clapped their hands in rhythm, fanaticism had touched an
indescribable summit. Younger girls invoked the name of Paul, the
beautiful of the four. Two young girls wearing colorful pageboy wigs,
first were helped and then taken away by a police agent, because
seized by hysteria. Many boys stripped their shirts to use them like
a whirlpool in greeting their idols. Hundreds of people were pushing
to get as close as possible, failing they yelling against police,
shoving and beatings followed; Police struggled to contain the folks.
In the middle of such din, just the Beatles were more compounds. From
the lineup McCartney shouted, «Ciao
Venezia.»And
this made more crazy with joy their fans. Girls screamed, wriggling
like banshees. It was a crescendo that put the willies. Scribbling
autographs, with difficulty four managed to get on the motorboat that
would take them to the Hotel "Danieli", where they were
staying. They were followed the all way to all kinds of vessels,
every bridge was crowded, no one saw so much splendor since the days
of the Doges.
A
few kilometers away, in Lido, two boys walking hand in hand along the
beach heated by an unusual autumn sun, along the direction of Berth
steamers. Both sixteen, they worked in hotels on the island; They
remained for final cleaning season, so they had the opportunity to
see their idols.The beach was almost deserted, the few people could
be counted on the fingers of one hand; They walked barefoot on sand
and occasionally chased each other happy. They were ahead of almost
an hour, so they headed for even more secluded places, to isolate
themselves from the rest of the world and enjoy the intimacy
necessary for their age. They lay one above the other, Groans and
languorous kisses came from their lips, the effusions continued until
a few barrels, similar to firecrackers, echoed in the air scaring
seagulls that flew away.
