Come Together, Beatles: Here’s a Check for Three Grand

April 24, 1976, marked the last evening that Paul McCartney would spend with John Lennon. That night, Paul and his wife Linda dropped in on John and Yoko, unannounced, and the two former Beatles spent a few hours together in the Lennons' apartment in the monolithic Dakota Building in Manhattan's Upper West Side. Don't you just wonder what the Fab Two engaged in on that Saturday evening? Did they take turns bouncing 6-month-old Baby Sean on their knees? Nosh on a jar of Yoko's expensive caviar? Play "Bohemian Rhapsody" on John's turntable, hoping that Ms. Ono wouldn't screech "scaramouche, scaramouche" along with Freddie Mercury? Well, as it turns out, they sat in the Lennons' living room and watched Saturday Night Live! Imagine their surprise when SNL producer Lorne Michaels appeared on their TV screen, announcing an offer to pay the Beatles $3,000 to come together and perform three songs on his show!

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10 Hip Quotient Resolutions Aimed at Enriching Your Reading Pleasure

It's that time of year when we feel compelled to set ourselves up for failure by making unrealistic resolutions we'll never keep. Once again we will resolve to quit doing all the naughty things we enjoy, heed the advice of gurus named Chopra, Weil, Tolle, and Oz, and embark on new lifestyles defined by words like organic, tantric, mantra, quinoa, and kale.I stopped making self-improvement resolutions a long time ago. Today, as always, I embrace my inner sloth, heed the words of gurus named Lennon, Dylan, Berry and Waits, and enjoy a lifestyle defined by words like riff, gig, mojo, backbeat, rave, juke, and a-wop-bop-a-loo-mop-a-wop-bam-boom. I prefer "old vinyl" to "new age," amplification to meditation, and Prince to Pilates. But as yer humble blogger, I have a responsibility to guide you, my loyal followers, toward a more enriching reading experience. Therefore, I have made these 10 resolutions.

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Mixing Melancholy with Merriment: A Realist’s Guide to Christmas Music

Okay, I know it's Christmas season and we're supposed to be happy and peaceful and idealistic, listening to carols both solemn and silly, and trying to be all Norman Rockwelly and stuff. Heck, the last thing I'd want to do is bum you out as you deck the malls, looking for the prettiest Victoria's Secret training bra for little Madison, or the perfect starter rifle for Little Ethan. But, as your faithful blogger, I feel I have a duty to expose you to an alternate version of Christmas culture via a smathering of holiday tunes that are a wee bit more realistic for many at this time of the year.

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The Sex Pistols: Cocked, Loaded, and Firing F Bombs on British Telly

It all started because Queen frontman Freddie Mercury had to go to the dentist, and his band was forced to cancel a scheduled TV appearance at the last minute. That bit of serendipity gave the U.K. public its first taste of the menace known as the Sex Pistols. On December 1, 1976, the punk rock band was summoned to the studios of Thames Television's "Today" program, an early evening live talk show hosted by Bill Grundy. The program's producers offered its substitute guests the customary assortment of alcoholic treats as they waited in the green room prior to air time. Big mistake. The drunk punks unleashed a torrent of expletives - infuriating scores of TV viewers. The 3-minute interview from hell ended Grundy’s career and catapulted the band to international notoriety overnight.

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Art from an Evil Canvas: The Berlin Wall

“The Iron Curtain.” That was a term I heard often as a kid growing up in the Cold War ’60s. What exactly was this metallic barrier, and who or what was behind it, I wondered. Little did I know that British Prime Minster Winston Churchill had coined the term to refer to the invisible, ideological barrier that separated the free world from the Communist world. But in time, I came to realize that an actual curtain really did exist – one made of concrete. It was called the Berlin Wall, and it held much fascination for me. When I first set foot in the German capital in 1993, my first order of business was a trip to the famous Checkpoint Charlie area to buy up as much memorabilia as I could: from silly touristy things – like a tiny chunk of the demolished wall, encased in plastic, to books detailing the history of the barrier and the incredible stories of East Germans who carried out elaborate schemes to scale or burrow under the wall. But my favorite souvenir is a book that features the incredible amateur graffiti that once adorned the western side of the wall, as well as the more professional paintings that cover the structure’s few remaining remnants. The most famous image of all is known as “The Kiss.”

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