C u l t u r e From the drum kit of...Ringo Starr December 27, 1970 George Harrison 312 Avonmore Road London, England W14 8TS Dear George: Merry Christmas! I hope the season finds you well. Personally, I can’t wait for 1971 to get here. Get me out of this crazy year! Did you get anything good for Christmas? I got the breakup of the world’s greatest and most popular band, and the beginning of my personal slow descent from celebrity into novelty. Kidding! Wow, that sounded bitter. Sorry about that. It might be the holiday blues, but I’ve been feeling really low lately. If you can believe, I was hit with a flying kick drum pedal as I walked down the street yesterday – the day after Christmas! This guy hit me with the pedal, screaming that he couldn’t keep a drummer in the band, that I had ruined the "image" of rock drummers. Apparently, wave after wave of rock drummers are leaving their posts and learning how to sing or play guitar in order to have a better shot at meeting women. And it’s somehow related to something I’ve done? All I’ve done is lay down a steady 4/4 beat for some of the top-selling records of all time! And yes, I did it without flourish, without asking for the spotlight, excepting those times ONLY when my muse was too powerful to contain (Octopus’s Garden)! Speaking of which, interest in "Starr-ing Ringo," the collection of my songs, has quickly waned it seems. In fact, the project has been put on indefinite hold. And so it begins! Life, part 2, "The Humiliation of Ringo." Sorry again. I assume that you got the "highlights" from John’s latest missive? Poor Paul and Linda and John and Yoko. How did they get so far into this? I really feel sorry for all of them. All the name calling and bickering, and the endless letters, phone calls, and singing telegrams. I’ve come to expect that you and I are to be degraded in the crossfire, but I’m saddened that John had to bring George Martin into it, with that "those two other sucks are barely in the band, and there’s certainly no ‘fifth Beatle’" comment. It’s strange how they held on to these seemingly small things for so long, just letting them fester inside, like our unanimous rejection of John’s idea to "throw in" a cover of Tommy James the Shondells’s "Crimson and Clover" in the middle of the Abbey Road medley. Seemed like nothing, at the time. And the language in these exchanges just gets nastier and nastier, doesn’t it? John wishing "cock rot" on Paul really crossed the line, in my opinion. Sorry to repeat that. Well, it’s late, "I’m So Tired," so I’m going to head down "Penny Lane," until "I’m Only Sleeping." God, I miss being the 4th Beatle. Although, being the "whipping boy" Beatle means still being the "whipping boy," just on the highest possible scale, which still isn’t that great. Alright! Enough! I’m babbling, I’m off, I will talk to you soon. Yours, Ringo