A tour manager lost my passport in London and it was a big hassle
to get a replacement. It had been a long tour and I really wanted
to make the plane in time for Xmas in Australia.
After many complex and tedious machinations, it all boiled down
to the fact that I had to be at the Australian High Commission
in Covent Garden before they closed and it was already late afternoon.
I leapt into the first available cab and told the driver to step
on it. We were making good time until we got to the High Street
in Kensington and there was a couple sauntering across the road,
causing a bit of a disturbance in the flow.
The driver said something like, "Cor Blimey, That's Ringo
Starr over there and 'is Missus, Barbara Bach!"
And so it was. A Beatle in real life.
For some reason I wasn't as amazed as the cabby.
In the same way that some English people expect to see kangaroos
hopping through the streets of Sydney, maybe I always expected
to see a Beatle walking across a London Street. I mean look at
the Abbey Road cover.
No, I was so caught up in my own petty world that I let the auspicious
and momentous occasion pass with out due reverence. The Fab Four
changed not only my life, but also the course of the whole world.
Here was a once in a lifetime opportunity to acknowledge that
influence by dint of proximity. I should've crossed myself or
bowed, or at least tipped the cap.
I have been thinking when I yelled out, " F'Godsake!... Ringo!
C'mon man, move it!"