UBT: The Pick Me Dance Letters for Pattie Boyd ‘Layla’
The love letters that Eric Clapton wrote to ‘Layla’ — Beatle George Harrison’s then-wife Pattie Boyd — went on the auction block last week. Who wouldn’t want the special keepsakes of a creep who seduced his friend’s wife?
An alert chump wrote:
Not sure if you’re familiar with the rock love triangle of George Harrison, Pattie Boyd (his wife), and Eric Clapton (his friend).
Boyd and Clapton had a public affair and left their spouses for one another. He penned the song Layla about her and Wonderful Tonight (then he would go on to cheat on her too).
A bunch of their letters are going up for auction. Pattie blames the affair on George’s preoccupation with the Beatles breakup and the fact that she’s a Pisces. She also claims the benign and silly letters are “so powerful and beautiful”. Overall I hate that this is romanticized and Eric is now enjoying reliving it. Rockstars are not know for their morals and good behavior, but romanticizing this feels more gross.
Sounds like a job for the Universal Bullshit Translator. Tortured Schmoopie prose is to the UBT what sewage is to Roto-Rooter.
But first some back story on the Pattie Boyd Layla pick me dance.
In the 1960s Harrison and Clapton collaborated on some music, during which time Clapton became infatuated with Boyd and started dating her sister. So, extra helpings of fuckwittery all around. Clapton would chump his friend AND the OW’s sister. But hey, #twuwuv.
“I just knew — knew, knew! — it was about me,” Boyd recalled of the moment she first heard “Layla.”
“I went hot and cold because it was beautiful, so intense and amazing,” she said. “At the same time, the old Pisces in me thought, ‘Oh, my God, if George hears this he’s going to realize it’s about me.’”
I blame my astrological sign for cheating on my husband. Pisces love a pick me dance.
Among other correspondence in the auction is a 1971 letter that Harrison sent Boyd from New York, where the Beatle had several business meetings and ate “many” grilled cheese sandwiches, he wrote. Boyd said Harrison always told her he loved her in letters and postcards, but he often focused on the irritations of life on the road. They were “proper letters,” Boyd said, “whereas Eric’s had nothing to do with the day, or what he was doing in the studio. He was just intense.”
I’m sorry George. News of your sandwiches cannot compare to fevered rock anthems of unrequited love. You lose the pick me dance. (Did know you were competing? That IS the pick me dance.) Pattie will leave you and marry Eric Clapton.
Excuse me, Tracy. I was promised bullshit translating. Where is the tortured Schmoopie prose?
I know why the caged animal cheats…
Clapton wrote Boyd a letter, on a title page torn from a copy of Of Mice and Men.
“For nothing more than the pleasures past I would sacrifice my family, my god and my own existence … I am at the end of my mind … I have listened to the wind, I have watched the dark brooding clouds I have felt the earth beneath me for a sign, a gesture, but there is only silence. Why do you hesitate, am I a poor lover, am I ugly; am I too weak, too strong, do you know why? If you want me, take me, I am yours. If you don’t want me, please break the spell that binds me. To cage a wild animal is a sin, to tame him is divine. My love is yours.”
Cringe, as the kids would say.
“For nothing more than the pleasures past I would sacrifice my family, my god and my own existence .”
Oh God of Furtive Orgasms, accept these thine lowly gifts.
I am at the end of my mind
But my dick throbs on.
I have listened to the wind, I have watched the dark brooding clouds I have felt the earth beneath me for a sign, a gesture, but there is only silence.
I am the meteorologist of forbidden love. Give me a sign! A tornado. A volcanic eruption. A tar pit! Anything!
Cheating with your friend’s wife can’t be bad if the clouds permit it. OH MIGHTY CUMULOUS GRANT ME STRENGTH!
Why do you hesitate, am I a poor lover, am I ugly; am I too weak, too strong, do you know why?
Is it your marriage to George Harrison? Or cheating with your sister’s boyfriend? I can’t imagine why you’d hesitate to fuck a cloud necromancer. I can communicate with weather! Can Mr. Grilled Cheese do THAT?
If you want me, take me, I am yours.
And my back-up singers, an Italian actress and assorted groupies. But I only talk to clouds for you.
If you don’t want me, please break the spell that binds me.
Summon the volcano. Grind my ashes into guacamole. Serve me on toasted pita chips.
To cage a wild animal is a sin, to tame him is divine.
My dick promises to behave for you.
My love is yours
And heroin’s.
How did the great Layla love story turn out?
According to the wiki page on Boyd:
Boyd soon struggled within the marriage and began drinking heavily, but these difficulties were masked by her public image with Clapton.[125] He later admitted to abusing her while they were married and he was a “full-blown” alcoholic.[126][127][128] Clapton and Boyd tried unsuccessfully to have children, trying in vitro fertilisation in 1984 and 1987, but were faced instead with miscarriages.[129]
Boyd left Clapton in April 1987 and divorced him in 1989. Her stated reasons were Clapton’s years of alcoholism, as well as his numerous affairs,[130]including one with Italian actress Lory Del Santo.[131] In 1989, her divorce was granted on the grounds of “infidelity and unreasonable behaviour”.[132]
Abuse! Heroin! Booze! Affairs! Makes those grilled cheese sandwiches look pretty good now, huh Pattie?
Clapton was always jealous of Harrison. In a documentary interview Clapton said, “I had all the talent and George had all the fame”. Frenemy.
My correction: George had all the fame because he had all the talent. As a guitarist myself, I’d contend that Clapton was blessed with secondhand notoriety via the Yardbirds, and somehow parlayed it into career despite playing that has as much soul as Milli Vanilli covering Pat Boone.
That’s narc talk. “If not for him stealing the limelight, I coulda been a contender!”
Wow, that’s quite a twisted tale. I always feel a bit sad for people who think everything is going to be different and better with someone just as messed up as they are, but so they choose.
I know a little about who my ex has been with since me, and they aren’t exactly the straight-and-narrow type that I was. But neither was he (LOL).
Thanks again, Elsie. Geez. It has been over 9 years, and even now, when I’m perfectly happy without the FW in my life, I still wonder if the dick is now happy. He puts on a great show for my kids. Your comment ‘for people who think everything is going to be different and better with someone just as messed up as they are’, is a reminder to me that the FW is just as miserable with the wifetress as he was with me. It’s nice to be reminded — AGAIN! Someday I’ll know I’ve reached meh when I no longer care that he’s miserable. Obviously, even though I’m very happy in my current life, I still like to hear about the life that the FW has vice the life he wished to have. I know that he’s miserable. Most recently, a house up the street from my house (that I had with the fuckwit) sold for about twice the price as what we paid for my house. And my house (comparatively) is actually a tiny bit bigger than that house up the street and has a bit more amenities. So I sent a picture to one of my sons with the price tag because I KNOW it will only be a short time when he brings it in conversation with his dad (the FW). His dad was quite pissed that I got the house (even though he would have just sold it anyway to pay off his debts.) Just to rub salt in the wound, I like to share this kind of stuff with my son because he’ll be sure to tell his dad. He doesn’t like the wifetress much at all. I joked once and called her his stepmom. He said, “Mom. Don’t ever call her that again!”
I haven’t seen my ex face-to-face in six years now, divorced for four. Thankfully, we are not in contact at this point, A-OK with me. The college kids went no contact when I went no contact during the divorce process and have remained so. I stayed out of that drama.
At one point he invited them down for the holidays. Mine you, this was several years since he even spoke to them. They asked me what I thought. Your call, I said. My oldest said he had no interest in being shown off to whoever, particularly if it was his mom’s replacement. I hadn’t given them that information, but they figured it out. They didn’t respond.
For me, an older guy who left his wife and college kids to live in another state would be a orange-ish flag, especially if the young adults didn’t want anything to do with their dad. Apparently, it hasn’t held him back socially because a certain type of woman doesn’t care about that though.
My ex keeps trying to talk to my brothers kids and they keep telling her “leave me alone you’re not my aunt, you left for your cousin.”
Amazon Chump, I completely empathise. I don’t have children with the ex; we share a godchild and I am in contact with their mum when we go out together occasionally. She is negative about the ex and exgfOW (who she knew well from his first two times around with exgfOW pre-me). We never talk about him. But she volunteered a few months ago that their relationship would probably end in ‘murder’. I made no comment save to think that they are presumably arguing all the time as they did when they were together the first two times around. I’m about to sell the former marital home, having bought the ex out 3 years ago. It will sell for considerably more than when he left it 4 years ago. I know that he will stomp around in a resentful rage about that (and he will find out). He’ll take it out on exgfOW and she’s only got herself to blame because she knew what he was like and went into it with her stupid eyes open. But ultimately, at times like now when I’m struggling myself, his misery makes no difference to mine!
Your last sentence rings true for me as well. Ex FW fucked up in various ways and isn’t particularly happy, Unfortunately that doesn’t balance out my pain.
The grass is never greener, as they say. And cheaters always trade down! Whether it is in looks and/or character (the latter is a given really, since people that cheat, both parties, suffer from character rot), they always get with a person that is never as good as the original partner. The cheaters pretend they are happy and have it all, but we all know the cheaters are just putting on an act. That’s what they do, they lie and deceive, even themselves! So the faithful partner really has the last laugh.
This story is a great example of congratulations, you won a TURD!
Oh man, how people swoon when they’re sent this stuff I’ll never understand. It’s just so over the top! Then again, I’m not the mushy type.
There was a “love poem” in the late 70’s edition of Joy of Sex that started out “I am the dung that made you fertile.”
Made the leftover hippies absolutely salivate for more “writ” at the time.
I laugh when people say society has improved, it hasn’t and the cringe has only changed form.
I am not sure which came first in this case. Back in the day there were plenty of stories of GH cheating on PB, never an excuse; but I think many of those drug addled folks lived a different life than many. Aside from having a few extra bucks, none of it sounds very appealing.
There’s way too much ego for any semblance of real love .
They’re used to getting what they want when they want it and see no reason to change.
Yeah, I read that Harrison cheated with Ringo Starr’s wife. Not sure if that’s true, but rock stars are a different breed. That said, Paul McCartney seems like a stand-up guy.
Yes I was a sixties girl and I did like Paul McCartney. I was not a huge Beatles fan, but of course they were talented, and I did like some of their music. I was more of a Rolling Stones fan, and talk about messed up.
But to me it was just the music, and I was a teenager.
McCartney, aside from cheating, may also have been violent to partners. There was a lot of blowback from fans and music industry defenders on Heather Mills’ claims that McCartney beat her. But then she released a recording of him clearly admitting he beat up his first wife, Linda, “once or twice.”
For a really horrific violent abuse of women you only have to look at Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones who was ostracized by the rest of the group after allegedly beating a groupie on the Florida leg of their tour. She was hospitalized and their manager had to work very hard to have criminal charges dropped against Jones. It seems he was quite a nasty sadistic.
I think most of those guys were a mess. I just don’t think you can do drugs and alcohol to that extent without violence at some point. Not right ever, but it is what it is.
I adored Michael Jackson, I remember him when he was a sweet cherub, and a sweet child’s voice, but his talent through out the years was unarguable. I don’t think anyone doubts he was a mess. I think his childhood was a mess too, though at some point we have to take accountability for ourselves.
Yes, sadly being abused often leads to every kind of subtle or egregious perversion and abusiveness, hence why the cycle is so hard to break. I recall a girl who was a victim of horrific, deplorable incest and pregnancy, huge story on daily mail how she was rescued. A couple years later she (now in her late teens or 20s) was charged with molesting a child.
As an advocate for abuse survivors, my empathy would instantly die at “repeated the pattern/legacy of abuse.” I reserve my sympathies for the majority (really, it is a comforting vast majority in a statistical sense) who never do unto others the worst of what was done to them.
An old friend of mine who used to write for various rock magazines told me it was common knowledge that Wings was formed to keep McCartney from cheating on the road. I found it disillusioning at the time but now nothing surprises me.
I have a hard time thinking of Harrison as a classic chump. During his marriage to Boyd, Harrison reportedly had an affair with Boyd’s friend– Ringo’s battered and chumped wife Maureen Starkey– who later killed herself. There are also stories of Clapton and Harrison cooperatively wife-swapping at some point. The whole thing sounds like a literal clusterfuck and makes me feel something akin to carsickness– like the kind you get as a kid from reading bad comic books in a moving car stuck behind a row of diesel trucks.
But then the Beatles always made me carsick. I can never admit this around Beatles fans but I’ve had a Beatles-phobia since childhood. One geeky friend in third grade had an old 70s era “bearded Beatles” poster in her room– the one where several went commando under their high-waisted 70s jeans. I had nightmares about the poster and, from then on, always cringed when hearing Beatles music performed by members of the band even if I could sometimes tolerate covers.
It wasn’t so much the passé scruffy beards or the untethered junk in the poster that freaked me out since ethnic beards were common in NY and I’d seen a ton of nudes in museums. It was something emanating from their expressions that made me completely disbelieve the sincerity of any of their love songs. It wasn’t even the era of music. I didn’t have the same reaction to the Rolling Stones because there was something cohesive about their dark creepery and the dark creepery of the music that made for great war and gangster movie soundtracks. But Beatles music performed by original members was like ODing on Aspertame.
When it came out later that they were all banging underage groupies and abusing their wives, it gave me an “Ah, so that’s it.” It was exactly the same reaction I had as a kid to old Elvis movies. It was exactly the same feeling I had as an adult seeing a giant portrait of the founding guru of some yoga sect who was later exposed in the headlines as a serial child rapist. It’s the old rapey radar.
I don’t like the Beatles either (that was a huge bone of contention when I first met my now-husband; I had always preferred the Stones and he couldn’t understand that). Anyway, I had read – I *think* in a biography of John Lennon – that the Beatles and Stones had reputations that were diametrically opposed to the truth. The Beatles were put forward as this relatively clean-cut group of nice young men (they were actually Very Bad Boys), and the Stones had the reputation of bad boys, while they were actually more conventional than the Beatles. Of course, this is all relative; rock stars are never ever paragons of virtue and the booze/drugs/groupies all come with the territory.
The Stones are well known for banging underage groupies. They all suck.
Overlap alert– Mick Jagger once attended the same university as CL herself– the London School of Economics.
I have to admit that I think Jagger and Richards are bordering in brilliant in terms of expressing their times through music. And as far as “bad boy” stuff, Jagger once showed a very conventional concern that some douchebag film actor who was chasing Mick’s late-teen daughter was more than twice his daughter’s age. But Mick himself had merrily age-gapped throughout his dating and married life and credibly-allegedly screwed quite a high number of underage groupies back in the day. In the past decade, he (credibly-allegedly) drove an adult partner– a very talented designer– to suicide when he cheated/monkey-branched on her with a twenty-something ballet dancer.
I always appreciated how the Stones’ music seemed like the perfect soundtrack for the twentieth century. There’s a dark honesty there, like a confession (like Roman Polanski’s earlier films). But, as a lifelong feminist, I still recognize the evil and destruction and can’t abide it.
I have no real heroes.
I’m a little into music as an interest, so whenever I’ve said I don’t like The Beatles, I’ve always had to qualify it with YES, I know they’re influential, YES, I know they’re talentled, but honestly?
Might start qualifying it with this instead.
Lol, the tragedy of my life is that I’m not spectacularly talented in music. I think the lifestyle of a workaday music professional would have suited me perfectly. My parents were music fanatics whose closest friends were professional musicians. I grew up steeped in it and most of my closest friends in childhood became professional musicians or composers. Still, as lame as I am (thin voice, difficulty learning sight reading, low pain threshold in my hands– boo), I have a decent ear and the Beatles always struck me as having depressingly limited roots in mid-century British popular music (dance hall, pub singalongs) with a bit of Anglican hymn and British isle traditional thrown in. Not even Celtic– mostly English madrigal. I suspect it’s what they heard growing up in a culturally insular time and place and then they just hijacked African/Celtic to throw a beat down on the whole thing. I think this appeals to a lot of people but my taste runs a little hotter.
Oh, you and I are in the same area, there. Although, my brass teacher supposedly believed I had a lot of potential with the double horn – ADHD and young age meant I struggled with dedicating myself to practice, though. Oh well…
And what an observation! Yes, you may be onto something there. Although, even then, those influences didn’t necessarily mean the music had to be mediocre – I found a lot of music that was… erm… “heavily influenced” by The Beatles was much more tolerable to my ears. Perhaps it’s all about the application? I could probably dissect why, if I was less fatigued.
Dyslexia in my case. Back in the day few understood it or how to teach past it.
Regarding the nature of talent and relative qualitative value of art– wow is that a huge discussion. It’s too bad that the authorship of Soviet dissident composer Dmitri Shostakovich’s autobiographical Testimony has been disputed because I thought it made a great argument for the role of integrity in art. The argument in the book– the idea that sadists cannot truly be artists– also fit a lot of the things that Shostakovich and close friend and creative collaborator Yevgeny Yevtushenko writes about it. In fact, it’s a plainly stated theme throughout a lot of Yevtushenko’s poetry, especially Snow in Tokyo.
Beatles format:
Dingly dingly twingly twing,
Aren’t you shocked and impressed men feel anything?
Gushy sentimentalism, aren’t I deep?
Please ignore that I’m a pedophilic creep…
Maureen Starkey– who later killed herself.
No, she died of leukemia in 1994.
I knew that too. But I just read on Wiki that she was so depressed by her divorce from Ringo, even though he cheated on her and beat her, that she tried to commit suicide by driving a motorcycle into a brick wall. What a disturbed person.
Please help me here and clarify. I’m confused about who the disturbed person is in this scenario: The battered woman who tried to kill herself and then eventually died of cancer as– on both counts– far too many abused women statistically tend to– or the creep who battered and traumatized her?
Both, I’d say. Him because he was abusive; her because she was in despair at having lost an abuser. Apparently, she begged him to stay, even after she slept with George, which John categorized as “fucking incest.”I had to laugh, though. In court, Maureen accused Ringo of posing as a “genial Andy Capp character” when he was basically a monster. I think they were all majorly fucked up.
Wonder what she was like before she became a human punching bag? Meaning who was she up to age 19 when she married Starr? Statistically, most battering victims– regardless of how psychologically wrecked they are following abuse– skewed a bit towards higher than average pre-abuse self esteem. Founding shelter movement activists and forensic psychologists Evan Stark and Anne Flitcraft have written extensively on the subject of “misapplication of contingency”– the tendency for bystanders and inexperienced or biased helping professionals to assume the typical effed-up, chaotic emotional state of battering victims following abuse means victims were like this prior to abuse. Stark and Flitcraft charge that this knee-jerk assumption– which is statistically unsupported in most cases and, by default, implies that domestic violence is always a case of two incredibly messed up people in mutual conflict– often leads to something called the “second injury” of domestic abuse.
Sorry— you’re right. She tried to kill herself (by riding a motorbike into a brick wall). The only means by which I know any Beatles lore is through a DV study group of publicly influential abusers. Suicide attempts are common among battering victims like Starkey and completed suicides are sometimes added to overall DV death stats. All I remembered was “Ringo ex/dead/maudlin hypocritical tribute song/suicide.”
I’ve never been a fan- they always seemed a bit too good to be true to me.
The lyrics didn’t match the energy they gave off.
I read this story in the Times and thought “ick”. Still thinking “ick” now. A very timely reminder that being super talented in art, music, acting, etc., does not mean a person is super human being.
I grew up in the arts and always thought Margaret Atwood’s quip applied really well to celebrities in general: “Wanting to know a writer because you like their work is like wanting to know a duck because you like pâté.”
,
I don’t think Atwood meant creative types are all dirtbags, just that artists are often different in person than one might expect from their art. Takes all kinds. I’ve met people who were lauded for this or that who were so gormless and defenseless they were like children. Others might be very decent in their private lives but, to the extent they protect this, react defensively or coldly to strangers, especially to strangers’ parasocial overtures.
Then again, power corrupts as they say and fame isn’t exactly therapeutic for character or sanity. Some can be spookily dead inside because all their energy is directed towards public image and some can be very dangerous. From the time I was a kid, I had sobering, “ick” encounters with countless rampant artsy adulterers, several “famous” domestic abusers, an award-winning multiply/credibly alleged serial child rapist and one accused celebrity wife killer who got away with it.
I’ve been to many, many rock concerts in my day starting in the early ’70s (I’m old) but the MOST BORING performance was Eric Clapton. Clapton is a gifted guitarist but God, he was just phoning it in. I ended up ignoring the FW and watching his backup singers as they were actually having a great time and giving it their all.
Who would want to buy some creeps love letters? I know they’ll sell for a gazillion dollars, but really?
Ew.
(Best concert? Tina Turner. And Mick Jagger turned up!)
So George cheated with Ringos first wife, while still married to Patti
Then Eric’s OW Lory Del.Santo cheated with Eric (on Patty, )and had a baby where Patti could not conceive with Eric. Lori’s child by Eric fell out of a window of a high-rise in Manhattan and died at age 4.So all the drama for fleeting centrality. My take, get out as soon as you can. It’s a 3 ring circus and chumps never win a prize. It’s just a ✨️ sparkling turd that takes centuries to grow up and then they write books on the pain.they suffered. You are just collateral damage.
There’s a lot to unpack here, as well as justification for why I’ve never really liked Wonderful Tonight. But the “I’m a pisces” excuse is SENDING me. As the great Blake Jennings once said, “He didn’t cheat on you because he’s a sagittarius. He cheated on you because he’s a terrible person.”
https://youtube.com/shorts/35jNtWnTvvs?si=77XRhmqtjq-LmD1o
Ha!
The side piece is often promoted as ‘the love of my life’ until cold hard reality sets in and he cheats on her as well.
They swap out the woman but nothing else changes.
The father of my kids did the same complete with phone calls made in front of me and the kids and gag worthy declarations of how their tawdry sneaking around was ‘the real thing’.
He’s cheated on her but she won’t leave him – too much money at stake and no self respect.
Dickhead McCluggage cheated on his first wife – which I’ve recently discovered- and then predictably on me . As a man who has all the entitlement, no respect for women and no love for himself, he’ll just continue to do the same and wonder why his life crisis never ends- surely it’s not his fault.
Put alcohol in the mix and you’re on a hiding to nothing.
Addicts lie and always will put their addiction first- there’s no hope of a happy ending there.
No one in this triangle came out smelling like a rose. George cheated on Pattie, too. A lot. He tried to seduce Ringo’s wife, Maureen, and may have succeeded. Accounts vary. But also not above pursuing his friend’s wife. And when Pattie couldn’t conceive, George refused to consider adoption, depriving Pattie of her chance to be a mom. Pattie was a young girl – 19 – when she entered into the heady world of rock stardom. I always thought it was weird how George and Eric remained besties in the face of Eric’s successful pursuit of Pattie. My take was that those two passed her around like she was a blowup sex doll, and when she lost her looks, they dumped her and moved on with younger women, with whom they had children. Pattie was just a replaceable object to both of them. Of the three horribles, Pattie was the least horrible, caught up in something she couldn’t possibly cope with or understand, and left alone at last, wondering wth happened. She did finally remarry, and I hope she’s happy.
Knowing she was 19 changes things a bit for me. Makes it so much more… nauseating.
Ugh. Weren’t The Beatles always sort of twisted and dysfunctional?
So she is still alive. Then I must say that I find it ugly that she made these letters public. Having the shamelessness to auction off affair letters is gross.
That being said, you are right. They were creepy AF for doing that to a 19 year old.
Yep, she should have just burned them long ago. I assume there are still children living who could be hurt by them.
If I remember what I read in the press, Jackie Kennedy wrote a tell all, but it isn’t to be published until all of her grandchildren are gone. That is a better way to do it, if you feel it needs done.
I would love to read that. Hopefully it takes that cheating SOB apart.
Yeah, I like that approach to it.
I will be long gone, but yeah she does deserve to tell her story.
It’s possible she needed the money. Unlike George and Eric, she has no royalties to fall back on. She’s something like 80 years old and can’t work. Or maybe she took a hard look at her life and realized what a shit show it was and just wanted the letters out of her life but couldn’t bear to destroy them because of their historical significance.
Yes, that could be. Maybe she has health care and senior housing needs she can’t afford.
In the end, Jenny Boyd (Pattie’s younger sister), did a lot more good for more people than Pattie.
Boyd attended UCLA in the late 1980s, earned a PhD in psychology, and became manager of an addiction treatment clinic. She co-authored a book about music and psychology, titled Musicians in Tune.[6] She spent many years running an addiction treatment centre in England.[1] In 2020, she published her autobiography, titled Jennifer Juniper.[7]
Cloud necromancer! 😆
I recall he admitted to raping her, or maybe it was somebody else. Layla sucks. I always hated that stupid song and Wonderful Tonight is even worse. A sturdy barf bag is needed to listen to it.
Does anybody know if she died? Is that why they went to auction, or is the skank just trying to make a buck humiliating her dead ex?
She’s very much alive. She was spouting on endlessly on various serious news BBC Radio 4 programmes when the sale was announced and when it was happening. It’s not like we’ve got anything important to worry about in the UK! More children living in poverty than ever, but hey ho! It’s a very odd country with its values all over the place.
“ I’m sorry George. News of your sandwiches cannot compare to fevered rock anthems of unrequited love. You lose the pick me dance. (Did know you were competing? That IS the pick me dance.)”
FWIW George wrote an even better song about Patti Boyd: “Something” (on the Abbey Road album). She was apparently quite the muse.
Patti might have been a muse, but she also repeatedly picked men that weren’t relationship material: men obsessed with themselves, their music and addictions — far more than being with her.
Eric’s so-called letter contains nothing but typical narc word salad. “I, me, my” invoked over and over – it’s all about HIM. Jeez, isn’t a love letter supposed to refer to the recipient no and then? At least one or two compliments? Was The Beatles (not a big fan either) song “I, Me Mine” written as a response to Eric’s screed? A gal can fantasize:
All through the day
I me mine, I me mine, I me mine
All through the night
I me mine, I me mine, I me mine
All I can hear
I me mine, I me mine, I me mine
Even those tears
I me mine, I me mine, I me mine
Thanks for covering this CL. I have been fuming about all the coverage given to it in the UK media over the last month. Nauseating!
Boomers being ‘cringe’.
Music is full of misogyny, people with disorders, and just all around ick. But then again, it’s probably everywhere and in every industry; this is just public because of the access it provides. I just don’t like the excuses people make for bad or poor behavior, at some point people need to own it.
Clapton is also on record saying vile,racist stuff. And he’s a covid denier. All around creep.
Though other side of the story, George Harrison was cheating on Pattie way before. Pattie’s biggest problem was that she was spineless. George would move in his new schmoopie in their house and what would Pattie do? Leave so George could enjoy his schmoopie and wait until he called her to come back few weeks later and she would.
She was unhappy with her marriage with Harrison but she decided to enjoy ego kibbles too by cheating with Eric. Then Eric abused her and she still stayed and finally when they broke it off, she quickly jumped to another man then went back to Eric and so on. Huge mess actually, she should have gone to a therapist and learn to live life on her own without being tied to a man.
(Read her biography)