Sexual intercourse began
In nineteen sixty-three
(Which was rather late for me)—
Between the end of the Chatterley ban
And the Beatles’ first LP.
Philip Larkin (1922–1986), British poet.

Happy George Harrison’s birthday. I don’t usually have anybody to share this with, but wasn’t he a lovely introvert?

He was/is dear to my heart. Never met him, of course. I just spent an hour on YouTube delving into the George years. For the life of me, I can’t think of anything to say. Something … something that isn’t just plain history after all.

While My Guitar Gently Weeps
Here Comes the Sun
Something
My Sweet Lord

He invented the benefit concert – remember, the one he did for Bangladesh. Paul abstained, don’t know why. I’m without words just now. Maybe the quiet spirit of George Harrison is … nah.

Oh – I mustn’t forget to tell you. September 8, 1965 – Beatles Concert, Second Tour – I sat in Row J with my kid sister – George looked right at me.

“The Bouquet Residence, this is Hyacinth Bouquet, the lady of the house speaking.”
Do you remember Mrs. Bucket (Bouquet) from PBS British comedy? Well, she’s got a job working as a receptionist for my dentist. At least, it could be her, it certainly sounds like her.

Oh, how that woman loves the sound of her own voice. Here’s how she answers the phone: “Hello! This is Becky Mae Walton, the receptionist in the office of Dr. Harry Jones, the dentist, how may I help you today?” Too much information, don’t you think? I have had entire phone calls that didn’t last as long as her greeting.

I heard her call a patient’s office, to say he’d be delayed a half hour returning from the dentist. She used the whole self-introductory speech, only she ended it with “I am calling on behalf of Mr. Smith.” Only then did she get to the meat of the message and divulge the bit about Mr. Smith’s half-hour. That’s quite a build-up. She sounds like she’s accepting an Academy Award, or maybe awarding one. The person on the receiving end must have got a word in edge-wise, because the receptionist responded, “You can live without him for another half-hour, can you? HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!” And she scanned the reception area to see who else thought she was witty. I felt obliged to smile a little, not enough to encourage her, I hope.

And the dentist? He’s an introvert, as best I can tell. He doesn’t say much unless he’s got something to say. What a relief.