DVD Review: Strange Fruit: The Beatles’ Apple Records

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2012
Images from the Internet

Strange Fruit: The Beatles’ Apple Records
Executive Producer: Rob Johnstone
Narrator: Thomas Arnold
Sexy Intellectual, 2011
162 minutes, USD $19.95
Chromedreams.co.uk
MVDvisual.com

Money and musicians produce a strange fruit, indeed. In the U.S., Frank Zappa took his royalties and created two labels that brought the fringe element to the forefront by putting them on record, such as Larry “Wild Man” Fischer and Captain Beefheart. While there was more of a straightforward music direction for Apple than focusing significantly on “outsiders,” we learn of Apple Corps’ full roster of musicians of various stripes.

It was 1968, a time of peace, love, and, well, lots and lots of pharmaceuticals that gave all that the extra oomph. Out of the true nature of “All You Need Is…” etc., the collective Fab Four decided to open their own recording studio and label, and free themselves up from the chains of their major label’s big biz outlook. Without the commitment of a record deal (e.g., X many releases in X amount of time), amid spiritual journeys to India and, well, mind trips, they opened their arms and wallets to those who possibly may never be heard.

It is important to remember that their manager, Brian Epstein, who was incredibly and truly devoted to the boys (pun not intended) was also infamous as a terrible business leader when it came to finances, licensing, and other matters of royalties. So with no real role model and being zoned out as much as they were, it is hardly surprising that the Apple venture would be a financial fiasco.

Apple Corp. certainly started off strong, with the likes of Mary “Those Were the Days” Hopkins and “Sweet James” Taylor. Even though Taylor would quickly jump ship after his first Apple LP, it was just enough of an impetus to get the ball rolling, with many charting songs, a starring role in the bleak film Two-Lane Blacktop, Carly Simon, and a heroin addiction still ahead for him. Hopkins would stay longer, but would feel typecast and leave to follow her own folk roots.

However, Apple’s biggest success, other than by the Beatles as a group and as individual members, would certain have been Badfinger. Their brief shot in the sun (I am including their many reunions received by a lukewarm fanbase) would result in monster hits such as “Come and Get It,” “No Matter What” and my fave cut of theirs, “Day After Day.” But even they would scurry to a major label thanks to the lack of tour support by the Beatles and Apple management (though, as is pointed out here, they actually lost money on the deal).

But ya know what, anyone who is the least bit knowledgeable about these bands, well, this won’t come as any great surprise, though in the case of Badfinger, it is good to hear it first-hand from Joey Molland and Rod Griffens, Badfinger’s guitarist and bassist / lyricist, respectively who are interviewed on this DVD.

However, the most interesting moments for me on this Chrome Dreams British special, is the more obscure musicians that were signed, such as Jackie Lomax, Brute Force, and the very annoying David Peel, all of whom are represented on this, including Elephant’s Memory bassist Gary van Scyoc (I saw them play a free show in ’74 in Central Park with the more enjoyable Brownsville Station opening).

As with most other Chrome Dreams recent DVD releases, there is a mixed representation of musicians, music journalists (for me, the lesser interesting as I want to hear “what we did,” not “what I was told”), and Apple Managing Director Tony Bramwell, to discuss the period (essentially 1967 through 1973). It’s rare they have women to talk about the time under discussion, however; I would have liked to have seen Mary Hopkins included, for example.

On a very positive note, at well over two hours, this is pretty comprehensive, including narrative info, photos, music, and videos to bring the big picture, bit by bit, to the viewer. Lots of interesting facts abound, including how Badfinger backed Harrison at the Madison Square Garden Concert for Bangladesh despite his partially abandoning the production of their LP to Todd Rundgren, how Elephant’s Memory dis John Lennon’s work on their record (giving them a more pop feel rather than classic rock), and especially how the Beatles’ manager and Apple executive Allen Klein essentially alienated and drove away everyone until Apple was irreparably broken, even after he was brought on board to save the Corp in the first place.

While the DVD focuses mostly on the artists, where it is weak is discussing how people who worked for Apple were essentially doing nothing but receiving pay for sitting around and getting stoned, and from what I’ve heard over the years, stealing the place blind (e.g., office equipment). This was part of the reason Klein needed to come in to rescue Apple, including adding time clocks and firing layabouts. His work habits wasn’t the problem, it was how ruthlessly he did it (even if it needed doing).

Along with the usual two extras for Chrome Dreams, namely bios of the contributors (interviewees) and a link to access to more info on-line (never have done this), there is also a 9-minute gem called “The Fuh King Speaks!: In Conversation with Brute Force.” Here, BF (aka New Yorker Stephen Friedland) discusses how he got in touch with George Harrison (through Tommy Dawes of the Cyrkle), and the history of his great song, “The King of Fuh” (much of which is played in long sound clips). I saw Friedland play once at the Housing Works Book Store on Crosby Street in New York City. It was a great experience.

Chrome Dreams is an amazing brand, who specializes in rock history (mostly British, but apparently the ‘60s-‘70s West Coast U.S. scene is on their radar) in as thorough a way as I’ve ever seen, and as time goes on, they get more impressive. As for this one, nearly every one of my music-related friends wants to see this, which is a nod in itself to the efforts put into it. I’d like to see them do some work on both American and British punk, while some of the core creators are still alive. But that’s just my wish list…

DVD Reviews: Composing Outside the Beatles: Lennon and McCartney 1973-1980

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2011
Images from the Internet

Composing Outside the Beatles: Lennon and McCartney 1973-1980
Executive Produced by Rob Johnstone
Narrated by Thomas Arnold
Pride DVD, 2005 / 2010
139 minutes, USD $19.95
Chromedreams.co.uk
MVDvisual.com

Perhaps this is a stretch, but if the two ex-Beatles bandmates were Silver Era comic books, arguably McCartney would be DC, and Lennon, Marvel. Whereas Paul is more pop, with straight lines and relatively uncomplicated art and stories, while John was more complex, full of multi-level story arcs and artily crafted jags of lines that push the envelope. One may say that whereas McCartney has had more financial success with hit records, it was Lennon who’s music had more depth in experimentation and true emotion (e.g., “Cold Turkey” or “”Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)” compared with “Silly Love Songs” or “Magneto and Titanium Man”).

It is telling, however, that the name of this British documentary series from Chrome Dreams with the usual suspects of music critics and writers, is called “Lennon and McCartney” on the box, and “Lennon versus McCartney” on the film proper.

I remember in 1986, stand-up comic Dennis Blair mentioned how when Paul was in the Beatles, his songs were meaningful, like “Yesterday / All my troubles seem so far away” and later it was more “Someone’s knocking at the door / Open the door and let ‘em in…”

Okay, I realize I’ve just been talking about the subject matter as opposed to reviewing the DVD up to now, so let’s get at it.

This British music-focused Chrome Dreams covering classic bands and musicians – both Brit and American – is pretty solid, and this one is no exception. Yes, I still stand by the fact that they rarely feature any women as either subjects or “experts,” but they do have some interesting talking heads discussing the careers of the these two artists, both in opinions about their lives and even more subjectively, the success or failures of their vinyl output.

Some of the commentators include Robert “D-“ Christgau (as he was known to my crowd), Johnny Rogan (John Lennon: The Albums), Chris Inham (Rough Guide to the Beatles), and Peter Ames Carlin (Paul McCartney: A Life). For me, however, the key interest for the McCartney segments aren’t them but rather Denny Siewell, the Wings’ original Yank drummer (1971-73), Beatles associate Klaus Voorman, and especially the large amount of time given to McCartney's main collaborator, rhythm guitarist Denny Laine, who goes into detail what it was like being in Wings. One of my favorite lines by Denny, and it is quite accurate, is that even though Paul wanted some democracy in the band and even though Denny had some leads here and there, Laine plainly states that if you have an ex-Beatle in the band, you naturally defer to him, which he found as no problem.

The post-Beatle rollercoaster ride of careers of the two exes often seemed heading in opposite directions from each other. For example, right after the disbanding, John’s was hot and Paul’s was limp, and then by the late ‘70s, it was reversed with Paul being at the top of the charts for just about anything. By the very late ‘70s, Paul’s Wings had run out of steam, and Lennon was just on the rise when someone asked him for his autograph, ending the possibility of a discussion of comparison beyond 1980.

There is more on this DVD about Paul than John, but in hindsight that doesn’t surprise me because in the period this covers, McCartney released way more vinyl than Lennon, though one can (again) argue about quantity vs. quality. While Paul was often in the studio or on tour, Lennon was having his excursions with May Pang (a year-and-a-half that Lennon referred to as his “lost weekend”) and fighting off the Republican witch-hunt against him.

One of the great things about this DVD is the sheer number of clips from songs throughout the period, both live and promotional videos, is staggering, even though no clip lasts longer than a minute. Still, there are enough to give one a zeitgeist of their yield. There are also period interviews with the artists.

Smartly, rather than jumping around from musician to musician, the DVD follows chunks of time with one and then the other, and back.

One interesting thing I found about the difference between the two is that Paul was focused on having a band (i.e., Wings), replacing members who left – usually in twos, apparently – to keep it going (though two Wings albums are actually just the trio of McCartney, McCartney, and Laine (e.g., Band on the Run). Lennon, on the other hand, was more a roving spirit. Yes, he’d play with either a who’s who of top talent (which McC also did with “Rockestra Theme”) or with local New York never-going-anywhere burnout musicians like David Peel (the East Coast version of Wildman Fischer?) or the band Elephant’s Memory (who I saw once in Central Park with the much better Brownsville Station; rumor was John would make an appearance, which he didn’t). And I’m betting that Lennon let his co-musicians eat meat.

They also both worked with legendary producers on at least one major project, to varying success, with Lennon flopping with Phil Spector’s hand on Rock ‘n’ Roll, and McCartney booming with George Martin’s help with the smash theme to the James Bond film, Live and Let Die (and ironically, though not stated here, the production on the latter was the bigger wall-of-sound).

For me, much of McCartney’s post-Beatles output has been pretty non-essential. I do own At the Speed of Sound as it was given to me when a friend decided to replace all her LPs with CDs; I believe I played it once. Still, his music was everywhere, even after pothead Paul was busted in Japan, giving his annoying self-righteous, open-mouthed gum-chewing interview to the press (how come no one ever mentions this gum thing?). And yet, on this DVD, I see there was a whole lot of music I never heard before that were somewhat hits, even after the break-up of Wings (in part because of the Japan debacle) such as the awful electronica “Temporary Secretary,” and the actually beautiful “Waterfalls,” the first song I can remember in a long time from him that actually feels like it has some real emotion.

As for Lennon, I do have a number of his solo LPs, even the leaden Rock ‘n’ Roll, though my favorite one is actually Lennon Legend: The Very Best of John Lennon. That being said, one thing I learned from this DVD was that when Double Fantasy was released, it actually received mixed reviews until after Lennon’s death shortly after. The album (which I do possess, but not until a couple of years after its release in 1980) didn’t really reach my consciousness until after the Dakota death. Of course, then everyone was simply drowned in “Imagine” for weeks. I firmly believe that Lennon would have been disgusted by the morbid sentimental reaction. On this documentary, I’m relieved to say that Lennon’s assassination is stated for fact rather than made into a monumental OMG, and that the cultural result is the huge success of the final LP.

Though brief, there is a segment on post-1980, which describes how McCartney became more a touring force rather than a recording one, in part, as is posited here, in that he covers some Beatles tunes more than that he also does Wings songs. As for Lennon, it’s pointed out that Yoko had released two albums of outtakes from the Double Fantasy sessions that were rejects and would probably never have seen the light of day if Lennon hadn’t died (not to say that these documents are unimportant).

The documentary feels pretty even-handed in the long run, both looking at McCartney and Lennon with both a critical eye and a strong subjective hindsight view by the contributors, some having very different opinions that the others. There is, however, no real mention of Ringo, or that George, who would flip back and forth about Paul, often referred to Paul as either “Fauxll” or merely “our bass player” (McCartney infamously did not give George the credit he deserved for his work in the Beatles), nor his praise for John.

The extras include bios of the contributors in text that is finally large enough to read on my television, unlike some previous DVDs in this series. But the important one is an 8-minute interview with Denny Laine called “Winging It: Life in Wings,” where he discusses the Moody Blues’ rivalry with the Beatles (which includes a great clip of him doing “Go Now”), writing with Paul, and about the break-up of the band after Japan, both real and rumor.

Even if one is a Beatles fan, there is more than two hours of info here, so odds are you may learn something new. Heck, the music clips alone are worth the view, especially the live ones.

Also, for those interested, there is another documentary, Composing Outside the Beatles: Lennon and McCartney 1967-1972, available from the same company (which I have not yet seen).

This review dedicated to the memory of JoJo Laine (RIP).


Bonus videos

DVD Review: “Paul McCartney Really is Dead: Last Testament of George Harrison”

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen
Images from the Internet

Paul McCartney Really is Dead: The Last Testament of George Harrison
Directed and produced by Joel Gilbert
Highway Entertainment, 2010
95 minutes, USD $14.95
Highway61ent.com
MVDvisual.com

According to this documentary style film, someone sent a package to Highway 61 Entertainment which contained some audio tapes supposedly recorded by ex-Beatle guitarist George Harrison while he was in Reading Hospital after begin stabbed by a reportedly insane man. This DVD is based on those tapes, and includes them within.

Producer / Director Joel Gilbert describes these events in the prolog, claiming that the tapes had been to three voice analysis labs, and the tests were “inconclusive.” Thus we are launched into a history of the Beatles, as told by George [Note that from this point, I will just use “George” when referring to the narrator of this DVD, and Harrison when talking about the man] in a very dissonant tone as he is preparing the listener for a shocking revelation.

Now, I consider myself a Beatles fan, but would hardly say I was an expert (someone chided me for making a mistake about Lennon in a recent blog), but even I could tell the voice was not Harrison’s; it was a worse impression than the ‘60s Beatles cartoons. It didn’t even sound Liverpudlian, but rather someone from the States trying to sound like it. For example, bubblegum comes out as “booblegoom.”

That being said, let me set this clear: this DVD is great, truly. I enjoyed it from beginning to end, it was such a hoot. I’ve always enjoyed conspiracy theories, from the JFK assassination to the question of Americans on the moon, from Reagan being our “best” president (yeah, sure) right through to the destruction of the WTC. I rarely agree with the theories, but they are fun to hear. And even if I argue with what this film states, it still brought a smile to me face (sorry I thought I was channeling Ringo, who does not come across too well in this, by the way).

The first question about this DVD is, well, why was the tapes sent to Highway 61 Entertainment? Why not The New York Times? Rolling Stone? Oliver Stone? This made no sense to me, and I kinda wish Joel Gilbert would have at least given some theory to that effect, and that he didn’t bring that up seems suspicious, right from the gate.

Getting back to the narrative, George goes on to discuss Paul’s mid-‘60s trouble with the law and teenage girls in Minneapolis, some detail about how the Jesus protests effected the Beatles and their fans, and so on. In fact there are quite a few news clips of the band, and as so many have seen those same interviews so many times, it is the clips of the fans that are more enjoyable (though my favorite one is not there: in front of the Plaza Hotel in New York, some hysterical teen with a thick Brooklyn accent complaining that she’d been waiting for hours to see the band and the police wouldn’t let her). There is even a very short clip of Lennon and Dylan stoned out of their minds in the back of a limousine [see at bottom of this blog].

Then, in November of 1966, apparently Paul left Abby Roads Studio in a huff at 5 AM, and was killed dramatically in a car crash after picking up a fan named Rita, who caused the accident that would not only take Paul’s life, according to this, but would graphically destroy Paul body, which is given in sharp detail. This leads to someone from MI5, British Secret Service, calling up the band to identify the body. His name is Maxwell, and he forces the boys to silence for fear of Paul’s death causing teen girls to commit suicide on a global scale. A Paul look-a-like contest is held in the States, including on Dick Clark’s American Bandstand, and though a winner is never announced, supposedly someone named William Campbell is selected, flown to England, and is then given extensive surgery to make the transition complete. And of course everyone involved is sworn to secrecy under threat of death by – er – Maxwell’s “silver hammer.”

John, being John, rebels and he nicknamed the new Paul - who is never really accepted by the rest of the band - Faul (short for False Paul), and then he leaves lots of hints of the occurrence, such as calling the album Rubber Soul after “Rubber Paul, and Apple means “A-Paul” (as opposed to “the” Paul). Lots of songs are credited to trying to give hints, including “Nowhere Man,” “and the overly abstract “Come Together.” Backward masking in the recordings is added in, and examples are a-plenty on this DVD (including subtitles, I’m happy to say), some successfully and some questionable.

Much of the “Paul is Dead” theorizing has been discussed before over the years, since Detroit DJ first came out with the story in October 1969. But there is much stretching of credulity as far as I’m concerned, such as Revolver meaning the “Revolving door” of replacing Paul, Yellow Submarine meaning Paul’s coffin (rather than a more widely held belief that it has a drug reference), and that’s just the start of it.

Later on, Feorge…I mean George states that the reason they went to India was to get the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi to transfer Paul’s soul into Faul, because it seemed that Faul is not as smart or loveable as Paul (“We all loooved Paul,” George states more than once). The tape states the reason they left the ashram in a huff was because the switch didn’t work, not because of the Yogi making a pass at Mia Farrow, or Brian Epstein’s suicide (which is not mentioned, I’m surprised; I half expected him to have been offed by Maxwell).

George states that when the information came to light of Paul’s death by Russell Gibb, that is why John divorced Cynthia, to save her and Julian’s life, and then he moved to the U.S. That is also why the States was trying to deport John, as a favor to MI5 so he could be sent to England where Maxwell had more control of him. When John told George he was going to tell, he was killed by Mark David Chapman two weeks later; and when George told Faul he was going to confess, that is when he was attacked and stabbed.

But my favorite stretch is of having rabid fan Rita undergo facial surgery and come back as Heather Mills. That is like the Broadway show Tommy that had the title character marry Sally Simpson. Just doesn’t work for me, and as Tom Bingham points out in his review of this DVD, “I might point out that Internet bios of Heather Mills have her being born in 1968, two years after the accident.” [http://genecdvd.blogspot.com/2010/08/paul-mccartney-really-is-dead-last.html].

I envision it this way: in 1966, the band is bored, stoned, or both, and hear about the Paul look-a-like contest. They figure, like the old Prince and the Pauper story, what if they pretended like Paul was dead, and would give clues to see if anyone would catch on. Creative wiseass John kept it going when the others gave up, got bored, or sobered up, and then it blew up in their faces when someone actually started to put the “clues” together in their own obsessive moment, added by their own imagination. Surely a prank by an art student gone to the nth degree. That is my theory which is mine, too.

The DVD’s Website clearly states that this is “Not affiliated with estate of George Harrison, Paul McCartney, William Campbell, Apple Corp or The Beatles” [paulreallyisdead.com]. While none of the music of the band (or their solo material) is used (i.e., licensed), Wayne Peet does a fine job hinting at it enough through instrumentals to make the connection, but not enough to get sued (one would think), much like the Rutles.

But this DVD is entertaining, don’t get me wrong, but part of the joy is the side-splitting connections that are made to reach the conclusions, no matter how thin. In the same way the Kingsmen’s version of “Louie Louie” was a blast despite that there was nothing really going on to elicit the salacious accusations, The Last Testament of George Harrison makes bold steps and is a fun piece for just what it is, rather than what it is trying to imply.
________
Also on the DVD is a link to MP3s of Peet’s music, and a short documentary of and interview with the late music historian icon Al Aronowitz (who I once met at an Andy Pratt concert, of all things). Al tells of how he introduced Bob Dylan to the Beatles, and how at the confab, Dylan introduced the Beatles to pot. Only a few minutes long, but it kept me interested, despite Al’s slurred speaking (due to age); thankfully, the entire conversation is captioned.


Bonus video:

DVD Review: John Lennon: Rare and Unseen

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen
Images from the Internet

John Lennon: Rare and Unseen
Wienerworld Presentations, 2010
75 minutes, USD $14.95
Wienerworld.com
MVDvisual.com

When VCRs first came out, I remember getting a VHS of Beatles’ press conferences. This DVD reminded me of that, as there is not a stitch of music in it, but luckily it is a bit more comprehensive and certainly the sound is cleaner than that long-ago VHS.

Lord knows, there is so much documentation on the Beatles, in all formats, so here is one more, with its own little twists. If I have it right, most of the framework of this collection is based around a British television commentary by author Desmond Norris (The Naked Ape, etc.), which looks like it’s from around the late ‘70s or early ‘80s. There are also a number of clips of the 1969 appearance of John and Yoko at on David Frost’s program. But I get ahead of myself.

All the Beatles are here in the first past, though not often heard from because, well, this isn’t about them, per se. In fact, Cynthia and Sean don’t get a mention at all, other than a second hand snipe by Ringo during a press conference (“Don’t forget you’re married! Oh, that’s a secret…”).

Through the early part of the DVD, there are present day interview snippets mixed in with older footage, with the likes of Colin Hanton of the Quarrymen, Beatles press officer Tony Barrow, comedian / announcer / fan Len Goodman (you’ll know him when you see him), and for some God-knows reason, Phil Collins (who, other than being a contemporary of Lennon, doesn’t really add much, as usual). One of the more interesting and amusing extended comments is by actor Tony Booth, who happens to be the father-in-law of ex-British Prime Minister Tony Blair; he tells of meeting Lennon at their mutual dealer’s flat, and of them sharing some weed.

Other than a brief comment by Hanton, there isn’t really anything pre-Beatles to note here at all (Act 1 is the Beatles, Act 2 is post-Beatles), picking up on slices of press conferences, television interviews, and b-roll footage of the boys getting on and off planes. Any concert footage, which is kept to a minimal, is used as background for radio interviews.

At first, there seems to be as much footage of other people as there is of John, but that just sets things up: as Hanton explains that at the beginning, John was actually quite shy and reticent to speak in public, but as time went on, this would change sharply. Lennon clearly came into himself in the late ‘60s, being fairly open to express whatever his opinions were, and take appropriate actions for himself.

One of the 2wo large focuses on the Beatles end is the whole religion flap that brought the Beatles back into the spotlight (albeit not necessarily for the right reasons) in 1966, during an interview with Maureen Cleave. There are shots of Lennon getting very defensive and rankled during interviews, and the now-amusing-and-yet-sad comments about Lennon and Christianity by the Klan.

Another segment focuses on the negative reaction to the band in Manila in (also) 1966, when then-first “lady” Imelda Marcos perceived a snubbing by the band, which had to basically flee for their lives from angry crowds. Some of the press conference when they returned to the UK is featured here.

While there is no footage on the whole India debacle (which I’m convinced was as much a cause for the break-up as was the management issues), it is only mentioned in a passing comment. Likewise, there is very little mentioned about Brian Epstein and his relationship with Lennon, though Lennon’s bitterness about the realization of Epstein’s lack of business acumen, which became clear after his death, is quite pronounced. And this, of course, is followed by the acrimonious Klein-Eastman choices that actually did break up the band. Lennon goes on to say that they were going their own way anyway, but it’s easy to tell there is resentment and possibly hurt in his comments.

Of course, by this time, nearly every shot of Lennon is one with Yoko by his side, including the infamous (and abovementioned) 1969 David Frost interview, where Lennon has audience members hitting a nail into a piece of wood and then asking them how it felt.

The bed-in period and John’s activism are well covered, including the concert tour where all the money was to go to prisons to help people make bail. There is a funny quip by him knocking Mick Jagger about greed.

I remember at the time, when I was watching some of these interviews as they originally played out, wondering how much the drugs had played with Lennon’s mind, because the whole “consciousness” bit was fuzzy, and his commentary felt disjointed (which I’m sure is one of the reasons I never had a desire to imbibe). Seeing some of this footage again after all these years, it still sounds profoundly abstract to the point where it’s almost nonsensical to me, but I can enjoy it more now in hindsight as an “experience.”

After the credits (for the ‘80s British telley show?), there is an overly brief segment that is apparently added on, of the newspaper headline of Lennon’s murder and a quick snip after it, lasting no more than 2 minutes total. This, I would have liked to see more of, actually.

John Lennon was an enigmatic public figure, who some folks hated (like my dad, who thought he was a communist and/or rabble rouser), and others adored him as a demi-deity. Either way, he was one of the central public figures of his time, and beyond. This DVD is a fine way to explore the different sides of the Beatle, the figure, the man.

* * *
A John Lennon story unrelated to the video:
A friend of mine (whose name I will add if he agrees) in New York was listening to Alex Bennett’s radio show late one night, and Bennett gave out Lennon’s personal phone number to his Greenwich Village apartment that he shared with May Pang. My buddy, then in his very young teens, called the number, expecting to get a butler or secretary. The phone is picked up. “Hello” “May I speak to John, please.” “Speaking.” Recognizing the voice, my pal panicked, and hung up. Yep, he hung up on John Lennon.

Bonus video by the great Ed Hamell (aka Hamell On Trial):