George Harrison
and the Cult of Personality
by Joseph C. Hinson
December 19, 2001

George Harrison was born February 25, 1943, making him the youngest of the four Beatles. He was only Beatle who's childhood was not marred by divorce or death and he had two brothers and a sister. Harrison was called the Quiet Beatle. This wasn't neccesarily because he was quite or had nothing to say, but rather because the Beatles each had to be something. There was the Smart Beatle, the Cute Beatle, the Quiet Beatle and..... Ringo.

It was the "Cloud Nine" album from 1987 that I first experienced Harrison solo. My favorite songs were "Devil's Radio" and "Someplace Else." By this time, I was already listening to the Beatles to the point that Yoko Ono pissed me off when she allowed "Revolution" to be background music on a show commercial. It was an odd time for me. My musical tastes ran from the Beatles and Hendrix to Guns 'N Roses ("Appetite For Destruction") and Aerosmith ("Permanent Vacation," with their rocking version of the Beatles' "I'm Down") to the Beastie Boys ("Licensed To Ill") to the current crop of musicians now considered 80s Retro.

Not a lot of people in the 12th grade fancies themselves Beatles fans. Or at least not a lot of people in the 12th grade circa 1987 in Lancaster, South Carolina fancied themselves Beatles fans. But there I was sitting in the hall during lunch with my Walkman on. "Hey Bulldog" was a favorite of mine at the time. Kim Harper was also a Beatles fan and looked at me like I was an alien when she recognized the song coming out of the tiny little speakers one day. When we started talking about the Beatles, everyone in the group looked at us like we were aliens, too.

A year after that, Harrison became Nelson Wilbury and with his brothers, Otis, Charlie, Lefty and Lucky, formed the Traveling Wilburys. After this, he faded from the scene somewhat, releasing only a greatest hits package, "The Best of Dark Horse," and a live album along with the second Wilbury set, "Volume III."

Naturally, I was saddened in November of this year when I learned he had passed away. I also confess I was somewhat taken aback by the press coverage it received. For someone whose last release of new solo material was in 1987, it seemed odd. Of course, this was no regular musician. This was a former Beatle. Vigils were held outside Abbey Roads, where the Beatles recorded most of their hits and at Strawberry Fields in New York City, where people have gathered for the last twenty years to remember another fallen Beatle, John Lennon, whose life was been taken by a madman.

It made me think: Why do we care when someone we don't even known dies? Why do people gather to cry and bond at a public place like this? There's more tears at these gatherings than a rerun of the Jim and Tammy Show. But then I thought, We do know these people. Mind you, we do not know them personally. But through their art, their music, their words, we do know a bit about them. We begin to form impressions of who they are and where they came from. They touch us I ways they will never know. And they allow us to come to know ourselves better in the process.

These people whom we do not know and am certainly will never meet console us in our good times and celebrate with us in our bad times. Their music and words sooth us when you're distrught and lift us when we're in high spirits. They're with us on wedding days. (If I hear that damn Bryan Adams song at one more wedding, I will fucking scream!) Hell, when I think of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers "Blood Sugar Sex Magik" I practically get drunk all over again. That CD was the soundtrack to a great year of partying and getting served alcohol when I was still "technically" a minor.

In the early 90s, the music of Nirvana and Pearl Jam touched me and others in ways we didn't know we could be touched. We had been raised on heavy metal bands like Van Halen and Warrant where the lead singer wore more make-up and had better hair than the babes in their videos. We were there now; they entertained us. We didn't know music could be real anymore. The music of Nirvana spoke to a generation. Unfortunately, the voice of Nirvana didn't want that liability.

How many of us remember where we were when we heard news of these tragic deaths? John Lennon? Kurt Cobain? Some were gone before they became famous, Bradley Nowell of Sublime and Andrew Wood of Mother Love Bone among them. The list includes the obvious ones as well -- Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Bon Scott, John Bonham. The list goes on. Some of us will even remember where we heard when we learned of Dale Earnhardt's death, though we may never 'fess up to it.

Hell, even Elvis, who somehow climbed that mountain of celebrity-dom, then took a Howard Hughs charter to the other side. (Age seven, I was at the Wayside, a seafood place in Murrell's Inlet, SC with my parents. I didn't know who Elvis was, but I figured he must have been a friend to the waitress who came out of the kitchen crying.) By the way, did you know that talk show ghost Morton Downey, Jr. is dead? No one else did either, I'm guessing.

And then there are those deaths that transcend everyday mourning and go right out there in cuckoo-land, among them the too-oft mentioned Elvis, Lady Di, John F. Kennedy, John F. Kennedy, Jr., Bobby Kennedy. One can understand why the death of JFK would be covered so greatly and mourned all over the world as it was, perhaps even Lady Diana. And with the Kennedys, it's like a death watch anyway. Just wait until Ted's liver goes.

The fact that I'm making bad jokes indicates a problem as well. Imagine the jokes about the death of Bill Gates. ("He fell out of a window.") Keep in mind the on-line death pools. Bob Hope seems to be number one on a lot of lists. Ronald Reagan is up there as well. Don't forget the number of people that find conspiracy in every death going. Marylin Monroe was murdered by the Kennedys. Why? Because she was too young beautiful to die. JFK was killed as a result of a conspiracy. This one actually did happen. Like the old saying goes, "Just because you're paranoid don't mean they're not after you." Likewise sometimes what looks like a conspiracy is a conspiracy. Jim Morrison faked his own death, as the myth goes. Why? No one's really sure. Jimmy Hoffa is buried under Giants Stadium. Tupac Shakur and Christopher Wallace (Notorious B.I.G) were murdered because of something to do with west coast rappers and east coast rappers being in a war. (You never had to worry about the Fat Boys and Run DMC causing any shit like this.) From the Ask Men: Cover Ups page, "Yet both artists have released so much music (curiously, Biggie's 1994 album was named Ready To Die while his posthumous album is entitled Life After Death) and have given us reasons to think that life after death could be more peaceful if they just hung low." If Oliver Stone ever makes a movie out of them, I'm looking Morrison up in the phone book.

And how is it that Elvis is seen out in public more after his death than the entire time he was holed up in Graceland in the years prior to his death?

Relevant Web Sites:
The Beatles
The Beatles Timeline
The Beatles Mailing List
George Harrison: All Things Must Pass
Anthony DeCurtis on George Harrison
Kurt Cobain Internet Shrine
Reporting on Suicide: Recommendations for the Media
The Rock Deaths List
Celebrity Death Pool: The Most Notorious Game on the Web

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