Fab Foundations # 26: “Shaggy Dog”

(Personal reflections inspired by Beatles songs)

Song: “Give Peace a Chance”

Album: Released as a single

Release Date: July 1969

I got my first Covid-era haircut a few weeks back. It was on the first day of barber-shop openings in Massachusetts. I desperately needed a haircut (even more so than normal for me) but ended up acting on this last minute with an on-a-whim phone call for an appointment to my longtime barber, Joe. Whaddaya know; he had one slot opened for late in the afternoon.

When the time came, I pulled up in front of his shop and waited outside until the customer before me came out (all this as directed by the sign on the door). I then walked in with my mask on. My first observation was that Joe appeared to be a bit discombobulated, which was understandable seeing as he not only had to wear a mask himself (all day); he had to wear a face-shield visor too (per regulations).  Joe greeted me while in the process of vacuuming and spraying down the barber chair with cleaner (more regulations). It was clear that he was in the early stages of processing this new normal in his profession.

After things settled down with Joe, I sat in the chair. We proceeded to talk about the crazy state-of-affairs, but we also talked music, as we always do. Indeed, Joe is a fellow Bob Dylan fan. He also loves Pink Floyd and the Who. Needless to say, we get along and are never short of conversation. Soon enough, to my relief, some of the loose strands of my Bozo hairdo started falling to the floor. Then, Joe got down to business with the finer precisions of his craft by first wetting my head with his water sprayer. Ahhh… well, this was what he thought he was using, because after dousing me and pulling out his scissors, he froze. In the mirror I can see shock in his eyes, and he soon tells me why: He just loaded my scalp with the cleaning fluid! Turns out the water bottle was next to the cleaning fluid bottle on his work shelf and, well, there you go (even with my poor sense of smell there was no way I could tell with my mask on).

Within seconds Joe has morphed from a person in shock to one in hysterics. He apologizes profusely through tears of laughter and offers my haircut for free (I refuse).  Joe then re-douses my hair (with water this time) and proceeds to give me a top-notch haircut (according to my Mom and my tough-critic wife).  Maybe Joe was inadvertently on to something? (side note: there is more to this comedy-of-errors storyline for anyone interested, but for this blog entry, I’ve gone far enough).

Another positive development in relation to that blunder (aside from the top notch haircut) is this writeup, because it’s how I got my primary talking point for it, which is …hair (and so, thanks Joe!). I got to thinking ‘ya know, I’ve written 325 entries on this blog site about Rock music and its effect on me, and yet, I’ve never really focused on the style, the attire, the appearance, the Hair’. Afterall, the Rock and Roll culture I grew up in has seen its share of hair styles and related attire, and I have certainly partaken in this range myself. Yeah, so let me think (pause)….although I’ve never embarked on the rarified path of a Punk mohawk or a Motown afro, I did my part for many styles including the middle-part, flat top, spike, Pete Townshend-style scruff (often), fully bearded (twice), mullet (yow!), and even a ponytail for a short spell. I also wore a bandana for months on end (while in Canada) and baseball caps backwards for equally long stretches (does that fit the Rock culture? Not sure).

It all started with long hair (in part a reaction to the ‘scuz’ cuts I’d have to get in grade school). I wore my relatively lengthy hair for a number of years in the late 70s. It was not as long as some guys my age, but pretty long (~ shoulder length). And it was long enough so that a neighborhood friend’s conservative Dad occasionally referred to me as a ‘shaggy dog’.  Now, this is interesting, because up to that point it was all about simply liking the way I looked. I’d never really thought of myself as making a statement. That dig was an eyeopener and ended up having the adverse effect of my friend’s Dad’s likely intention (to change me). In fact, at least in part due to that jab, that hair style became a part of my credentials over the ensuing years; a physical affirmation of measured rebellion against entrenched authority and structure. I live that rebellion to this day (although this is not always as clear in my appearance).

The hairstyles and attire of many of us who loved Rock and Roll were outward projections of a quest for something much deeper on the inside however, which centered on peace, love and understanding. All the while, there was a deemphasis on the allure of material wealth in an attempt to free up the spirit for a greater truth. These generational priority shifts were personified in the trajectory of the Beatles story through the 60s, starting with their early focus on love songs, and then evolving through their all-inclusive business model (Apple) and their quest for spiritual enlightenment (transcendental meditation).

In the last year of the Beatles (1969), John Lennon, along with Yoko Ono, took this trajectory another big leap forward by diving headlong into the Peace Movement, which was significant in those times due to the war in Vietnam. By the mid-70s, I was taking in the Beatles story in rapid-fire fashion, and the piece of that story that was most intriguing to me was this John and Yoko thing. There were bold statements and nudity and rebellion and long, long hair, and bizarre practices such as ‘Bagism’ and ‘Bead-ins’.  What was this all about?

I want to take a bit of a side-step here which should help me get more to the point. Beatles Anthology is a must read for Beatles fans. The four Beatles get quoted throughout, but so too do a handful of their associates including George Martin (their record producer), Brian Epstein (their manager), Neil Aspinall (their road manager), Mal Evans (their longtime catch-all assistant), and Derek Taylor (their press officer). I have to say, of all these interviewee’s Taylor is the most candid and colorful (and that is saying something because everyone is candid and colorful in this book).

Four pages in the book (pg. 332-335) go into a nice bit of detail on the “Ballad of John and Yoko”, a song-story about their very public involvement in the peace movement. In this section, Derek Taylor explains most succinctly what was happening: “They had the (Montreal) bed-in for eight days (in the Queen Elizabeth Hotel). Hundreds of people came to the bedside. The questions were dealt with by John and Yoko in the full spirit of Apple (the Beatles record company), because they made themselves completely available to anyone on earth who wanted to come into the bedroom – provided they were not obviously carrying a blood-stained axe. People could come in and ask them questions. Maybe they came in thousands, it felt like it.”  

What grabs me here is “eight days” (a week?).  It’s hard to fathom being interviewed for one day by hordes of people while lying in a hotel bed, never mind eight days. And John and Yoko did this in Amsterdam too; their hotel room opened to the public from 9 am to 9 pm each day at each venue. I’ve watched parts of these “Bed-ins for Peace” (which were mostly filmed). Yes, there were empathetic visitors, but there was also cynicism and antagonism, primarily from “establishment” media types (Al Capp and Gloria Emerson for example). And although they came across as a bit awkward in their response at times (who wouldn’t?) the couple took much of it in stride, and always reeled the exchange back to the task at hand: Campaigning for peace. 

Then there was Bagism, whereby John and Yoko would cover themselves in a bag during interviews. The idea being that it would remove prejudice in the exchange (of skin color, looks, hair length, etc.), and force the interviewer to focus on the message alone (again, peace). There were other gestures too, including a giant billboard in Times Square that December which read “War Is Over (if you want it). Happy Christmas from John and Yoko”.  I believe all of this had a tremendous effect on the youth of the world (along with Martin Luther King’s similar non-violent protestations), which continues to play out today with the “Black Lives Matter” movement and other campaigns for peace, love and understanding. It certainly had this effect on me.

Of course, the John and Yoko efforts also played out in the music. Later, after the Beatles had broken up, this would manifest itself in John Lennon’s world-renowned song “Imagine”.  In 1969, however, Paul McCartney would get (non-participatory) partner credit for Lennon’s first concerted musical foray into his and Yoko’s endeavor; that being the song “Give Peace a Chance” ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C3_0GqPvr4U ). If you have never seen this video before, it’s worth taking it in (it was filmed during their Montreal Bed-in).  John Lennon’s sense of humor comes out in the lyrics, but you can also appreciate his earnestness as you watch. It’s such a fascinating and unique video of a brief period in our recent history that in all likelihood will never be repeated.

As I watched the “Give Peace a Chance” video for the umpteenth time this week (as I was wrapping up this entry) I spotted the “Hair Peace” sign behind John Lennon, which brought me back again to my “shaggy dog” years (or as John and Yoko dub it in the song; "Shagism").  I realize now that my priorities and values were already pretty well entrenched by then.  I’m sure there are many other factors, but high among them, I have a former Beatle to thank.

- Pete

This entry is dedicated to my daughter Charlotte, who carries the torch forward