Beatles music and the life of Shirley Temple

Two significant events took place this past week -- the 50th anniversary of the Beatles' appearance on "The Ed Sullivan Show" and the passing of film legend Shirley Temple.

While very different people, both were more than a passing interest for me.

I vaguely remember the furor over the Beatles on the Sullivan Show. Ed Sullivan was a regular presence in our home, on our new black and white TV.

I remember watching the Beatles perform on the show, but at the time I wondered what was up with all the screaming.

It didn't take me long to figure that one out.

Just down the street from our home, about three houses on our side, a young girl, (I don't remember her name or age, since I didn't pay much attention to girls, at that time), would take her portable Hi-Fi and a collection of Beatles 45s and play one song after another out in her backyard, night after night, that summer.

That constant exposure didn't endear me to their music, at the time and, after all, I was still too young to be much into pop culture, yet.

Some years later, I and many of my young compatriots got caught up in the "Paul is dead" mystery, from playing lyrics backward on the albums, to looking for various clues on the Abbey Road album and in the songs "I Am the Walrus" and "A Day in the Life."

But I really didn't start to listen regularly to their music until I heard "Let It Be." I had already softened my stance after "Hey Jude," and "Let It Be" totally won me over.

Working as a disc jockey on the radio for a number of years in college and post-graduation, the Beatles, with their diversity of musical approaches and instrumentation, were a regular staple of my airplay.

When the Beatles broke up, I lamented their absence and recalled just how much of an impact they had on our culture, especially the mop top haircuts and later the hair over their ears.

My dad said, probably much like other fathers at the time, "They look like bums" and "You're not going to wear your hair like that."

I tried to do just that though.

I continued to follow the music of the Beatles as individuals, from Paul's Wings incarnation, to John and Yoko's Plastic Ono Band, to George's Hare Krishna and eastern influences, to Ringo's light-hearted musings and later, his All-Star Band.

I joined with others, always hoping for a reunion, but as the murders of John and George took that dream away, it was replaced with the hope that Sean and Julian Lennon would take up with Paul and Ringo, first with Live Aid, and then, with other rumored reunions.

The Beatles contributions had a major impact on our music and our culture. My father-in-law summed this up best for me by praising their talents as musicians and songwriters, as he played their songs on the electric piano he had in his home.

With Shirley Temple, it was an ever-so-sweet presence that I grew up with, watching the old movies with my mom. That connection of sharing is a treasured memory.

"Captain January," "The Little Colonel," "The Littlest Rebel," "Curly Top," "Susannah of the Mounties," "The Little Princess," "Little Miss Broadway," "Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm," "Heidi," "Wee Willie Winkie," "Dimples," "Poor Little Rich Girl," "Our Little Girl," "Bright Eyes," and "Little Miss Marker," were all favorites.

I loved "On the Good Ship Lollipop" and "Animal Crackers in My Soup" as well as her dance scenes with the great dancer and actor Bill Robinson.

Even more special was knowing "The Little Colonel" was adapted from the novel of the same name by author Annie Fellows Johnston, who fictionalized the town where my parents live as the center of her books.

I don't recall seeing a lot of Temple films in her teen and early adult years but I still enjoy watching "The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer" with Cary Grant.

In fact, I still break into the "Hey, you remind me of a man. What man? The man with the power. What power? The power of hoodoo. Hoodoo? You do. Do what? Remind me of a man," from the Cary and Shirley exchange.

Temple would go on to be a delegate to the United Nations, serve as a U.S. ambassador, become the first woman to serve as the U.S. Chief of Protocol, and be one of the first prominent figures to speak out on breast cancer, holding a press conference from her hospital room after her mastectomy to discuss her experience and urge women discovering breast lumps not to "sit home and be afraid," according to her obituary in the New York Times.

While the Beatles and Shirley Temple Black were worlds and generations apart, and may have shared only a love for music, they served as formative influences for generations.