Good grief, John. NO.
I certainly hope you're not being serious, and you're simply making a misfired attempt at picking on me ~ LOL ~ because I have never been that "fannish" type of person you describe. In fact, that was one of the reasons I almost didn't go to Detroit ~ I didn't want to be associated with those squealy-girly types.
Prior to being drawn to the harmonies and brilliance of Beatle/George Martin music, TeenChristine was a lover of classical compositions and the Ramsey Lewis/Peggy Lee genre of jazz
From 1964 through 1970, whenever a new Beatles release was played on radio, TeenChristine's first reaction would be, "Ugh, the rock'n roll of children!" ...however, after a few more repeats of a Beatle piece, another musical level was apparent, which hooked me. There was just SOMETHING about ALL Beatle music that transcended the norm of plain pop music ~ and this was not primarily due to George Martin, either, as some have postulated. Leonard Bernstein recognized and acknowledged it ~ and he, above all others, should have known. I assume this was the same musical genius that Brian, himself a lover of only classical and show tunes, intuitively sensed and picked up on.
Upon seeing Brian, you would probably run up the stage and start screaming at Brian! *eppylover repeatedly smacks yerblues with rolled-up fan magazine*
You would be so amazed that you are actually looking at him that you would faint. Ugh. Far from it. If Brian had been in sight, I most likely would have been so self-aware of my inferior status that I would simply sit and smile a lot ~ excited, yet despairing of my anonymity. If I ever wanted to gain his attention, acting like the silly girls in the audience would NOT have been the way ~ indeed, would have been counterproductive to an actual acquaintance. Almost impossible for sure, but why TOTALLY obliterate any future chances by acting like the typical rabid fan? I mean, I thought I had literally YEARS to prepare my strategy, learn the ropes, climb the ladder, and finally be properly introduced to him on a more equal basis.
Ideally, if the chance ever came, I wanted to present myself in a respectful, dignified yet hopefully humorous/clever manner. He was known to have made friends with musical or stage artistes, journalists and a few businessmen. Since I am the furthest thing from a businessman, my choices were either performer or writer. With my limited yet apparent musical ability, a performer was a vague possibility ~ but journalist seemed to be the best bet. My plans were taking shape in 1965-67, but he shot a fatal hole through it all when he took that one Carbitral too many.
As a result, I was left feeling rudderless with no real goal in life, other than to try and be "normal," get married, etc. ~
~ until the advent of the internet, which led to my discovery of Martin Lewis's Brian Epstein website in 1996 or 98, and then Van Donovan's encouragement (with him naming me "eppylover") to share our "Brianage" and "Eppiness" via LiveJournal ~ which then brought me to the attention of
The Fifth Beatle production company here.
Not the same as hobnobbing with the real-life Brian, of course, but it is what it is, for what it's worth.
Running up to the stage and being amazed? Hell, no! It is to laugh. I'm more like a guy and have never squealed nor acted like many of the other silly-ass females. In everyday life, where women will weep and cry about something, I tend to pace floors and hit walls and cuss and shut myself away to watch TV or read.
Come to think of it, at the concert, my two friends (one a Paul-fancier and the other a John-fancier) also refused to lower themselves to acting squealy and fannish. To us, it would have been humiliating and self-denigrating in a way. Not to knock the ones who did it. We simply did not fit the fan stereotype.
In Detroit's Olympia Stadium, which was actually used for sports, the stage was central and the seating went completely around the stage. There was no "backstage" ~ so when the time came, the boys were escorted from and to the locker room area between two heavy lines of police officers.
Perhaps, Brian was hiding behind the stage where no one can see him? Yes, Brian could very well have been out of sight in the locker room area where he could look out at the stage. But, with our Eppy, you just never knew. He was unpredictable.
It sounds like you would have a hard time putting in film in your little camera ... I really didn't have "a hard time" with the camera. I simply did not want to take the time and risk missing anything by looking down and re-loading a camera. Don't you remember how you had to open the back, remove the used film, then open the new film and thread it over to the other spool, etc. etc...? I would have missed far too much, because every second counted!
I read some of the posts on your LiveJournal. Well, like I said, the information in the comment replies
following my posts often surpass the actual content of the posts. Probably because I was going into detail responding to the comments, instead of just pulling stuff out of my head. Whatever.
