1964 was the year I got out of the Navy.
Aboard ship, the opportunity to listen to music was limited to times in port.
No one had any record players . . .well, nobody but Summers, who had one stashed in the ECM room, which was the size of a walk-in closet and was loaded with electronic listening gear and required a secret clearance for entry when we were underway.
But that's another story for another time.
The only music we heard was from AM radio and most seemed to listen to country-western music.
We had to depend on the radiomen to pipe music through the ship's entertainment sound system.
There were about five channel choices on it.
The flag officer (Commodore) on board had first pick for one of those channels.
The skipper had another, and XO a third.
That left two channels for the crew.
Television was even more limited . . .and that's even still another story.
I will go so far as to say I watched no tv from late 1962 until August 1964 (I didn't watch much before that, either).
Radio was seldom played during working hours and was basically background after hours.
We didn't have it in our berthing compartments, just in the mess decks and some working spaces.
So, when the Beatles came along they were just another noisy music group to which I didn't pay enough attention to even bother learn their name.
They weren't the only one.
It wasn't until the ship was damaged by a harbor tug moving a barge at the Seal Beach Weapons Depot that I became more familiar with the Beatles.
The ship was sent to Long Beach Naval Shipyard for repairs.
It ended up in drydock.
The damage was all to the hull that made up the bulkhead for the compartment where my division lived.
We had to move during repairs, which consisted of removing and replacing a huge sheet of steel.
Part of that process involved x-raying the welds.
That involved lots and lots of radiation.
We had to move.
On a tin can there is no place to go when you move.
Lower rates had to scatter amongst existing quarters elsewhere on the ship.
Petty officers were given basket leave and required to check in by phone every day and only had to return for duty days.
For the only time, ever, we were on four section in OI division.
We bunked with the Chiefs on duty days.
So I was really fortunate.
About 15 miles up Long Beach Blvd., in Lynwood, I had cousins.
They welcomed me with open arms.
There were two teen age daughters and a pre-teen.
That's when I found out who the Beatles were.
The girls didn't listen to the radio much.
They played LPs . . .ya know, vinyl?
It was early summer.
School was out.
The Beatles played for hours on end.
Prior to staying with my cousins I had heard some Beatles stuff and sort of liked it.
There is such a thing as too much of a good thing.
Besides, I was the next level up from teenager, so I couldn't be seen as liking that stuff too much.
Thanks to Summers secret record player in the ECM room I was already acquiring a taste for Blues and Jazz.
I'm over that now, finally, and appreciate the music of the Beatles.
I'm not sure I would ever get excited enough to go see them at their hotel.
Linda Ronstadt is another story
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