Just the thought of one of The Beatles here in Penticton gives me the colley wobbles — that’s scouse (Liverpool’ian) for goosebumps.
To think we as Teddy Boys worshipped the ground they walked on and would crawl over a mile of broken beer bottle glass to rip a button off of one of them all those years ago.
Ringo was, we believed, the runt of the litter. Well, if that was so, we as fans and adorers came to love him in his own right. Much the same way as our heart’s would pick a mutt at the pound. Sorry Ringo, but like that scenario you stole my grandchildren’s hearts (as well as mine) with your Thomas & Friends narrating. I think even Mr. Topenhat, the station master, was never the same when he left. Even the whole community of Sodor was in mourning when your contract was finished at BBC.
George Carlin never really cut the mustard in replacing Ringo, even my grandchildren knew something was amiss. Thank goodness my grandchildren and myself got to be a part of the experience and you were able to live on, spreading so much enjoyment to the throngs of folks that Come Together to show The Love and appreciate your talent. Peace out man, and thank you from us all.