Why George Is My Favorite

To Begin…

At the time of last week’s post, I was intending that this post would be a book review. But I think I should address something about my preferences before I write many more posts. If you have read everything that I have written here, you probably realize that my allegiances are with George Harrison more than others involved with The Beatles. And I’ll be forthright about it: I’m rather defensive about why George is my favorite. Why? Well…

From a Young Age

Perhaps the following will sound like bullshit: George was always my favorite, but I didn’t always realize it. What is mean is that I used to say that John was favorite because, well, I thought that he was supposed to be everyone’s favorite Beatle. My toddler-elementary school self noticed how most adults said that John was their favorite. And I guess I thought that there was some sort of unspoken social rule that everyone who had any interest in The Beatles needed to abide by this.

To be honest, I think that a lot people feel that they must abide by that “rule.” Though, I don’t think it’s as strongly believed as it once was. I could get into this more, but I will save this discussion for another day, as I think it’s a much more involved subject than a lot of people realize.

Unconsciously Your Favorite?

I suppose the confusing part about this is why I say that George actually was always my favorite. No, it wasn’t a matter of me telling people one thing, but believing another thing just to save face. (I think it’s sad that people feel that they have to do that to begin with. But it’s something people do a ton.) It was a matter of me realizing something unconsciously for ages before I consciously realized it.

Funny thing is, I think unconscious understanding of this sort is something not everyone experiences. And with those who do, some experience it a lot. Whereas others might only experience this a couple of times in their lives. (I can’t help but to feel this discrepancy in personal experiences is actually is a huge reason why there’s a debate as to whether or not George was intentionally inspired by “She’s So Fine” when he created “My Sweet Lord.” But again, that’s another subject that huge enough to be its own post.)

Why I say that I unconsciously was aware of this is that in retrospect, I can see that George captivated my interest in a way that the other Beatles didn’t. For starters, even as an incredibly young child, I noticed he had a certain air of mystery to him. I recall him not being mentioned in the news and on those video tabloid shows as much. That sort of thing seemed to be why a lot of adults at the time tended to ignore him compared to the others. But that seemed to draw me to him instead. I guess it’s kind of like how cats like to hang around humans who they realize don’t like them.

When Did the Unconscious Become Conscious?

It took something rather extraordinary and unfortunate to realize that George was my favorite: his death. Bizarre thing is that I can even recall specifically when this occurred. The morning following George’s death, I remember Mom and I being in the laundromat that we regularly visited to wash our clothes.

One of the things I did during each trip to there was read the local newspaper. I read the comics, do the crossword, and solve the daily cryptogram. If there were any articles that caught my interest, I read them before doing those other activities. George’s death was front page news. As I read through the article about him, it clicked into place just how much I liked him as a person. I guess seeing a concise summary about him made things clear to me.

To be honest, I think you could say that there was a (relatively) long period in my youth where I’d probably tell you that I didn’t have a favorite Beatle, perhaps from late elementary school to late high school. I think I got it that it wasn’t John, but things were still unclear to me. I guess with all of the bullying, mental illness, and other confusion in my life, sometimes answering something simple as that could be incredibly difficult. Especially when you have always been the sort who hates being superficial about anything.

I hate that it took something as drastic as that to realize the truth. (And seeing that this preference is something so small in the scheme of things, I guess that frustrates me even more.) But I guess I take solace in the fact that I know he still is there—just not necessarily as we knew him.

Relatability Factor

I think for a lot of people, relatability often is a huge part as to why they favor the people and characters they do. I know it’s not the only reason, but it seems to be a huge one. This is most certainly true as to why I like George as much as I do. And I’ve suspected that this is often the case for anyone who states that George is their favorite Beatle.

While I can’t speak for everyone who says that he is their favorite, I have been alien for all of my life. Note that I don’t say “felt alien,” because I think most people do to some extent. I know damn well that I am actually alien and that is in more ways than one. I try my damndest to relate to others and often can in the littlest of ways. But really connecting to others has been incredibly difficult. When you have been given this lot in life, seeing someone prominent who actually seems like you in larger ways is quite something special and rare. It helps you feel less out of sorts.

A Small Caveat

By the way, I am not saying that fans of John, Paul, or Ringo don’t like them due to relatability. If anything, I think that is often quite true of those who truly have John has their favorite, too. But I think this is strongest for George fans. I wish there was an easy way to assess whether or not I am off about that. (If you have any ideas, tell me! Maybe then I can use those methods to follow-up and examine this thought.) I can’t help but to feel that this factors into what it is about George fans that really get under the skin of the anti-George crowd.

So Exactly What Is It That Is Relatable?

Again, I can’t speak for all fans who state that George is their favorite. (Seriously, those “as a _____, I _____” statements drive me nuts. Way to see yourself as an authority on a particular social class you are a part of. And way to assume that everyone in this group experiences whatever you are sharing, too.)

I’ve come to learn that the “Quiet Beatle” moniker is a misleading one, but it helped me find some solace when I was younger. I’m far from being the most talkative person you’ll encounter. And I got grief for this when I was younger. I’ve always thought that it is bullshit that people get criticized for not saying much, but those who never shut the hell up and talk about nothing are seen as more desirable. I find that people assume that you’re weak or scared if you don’t say much. And if even if you are quiet for those reasons, why do people think that criticism is going to loosen your mouth? If anything, people double-down in response. I’m nowhere near as anxious as I once was, and I can be quite chatty in both writing and certain environments.

Despite that, George seemed atypically introverted for someone of his fame. I’ve come to learn very well that people still assume what introversion is. And I’ve come to learn that there actually are quite a few famous people who are introverted. While I’m someone who doesn’t like labeling myself much (Seriously, people have heard me grumble about how I find it frustrating that younger generations seem so keen on doing this and how I am alien within some of the social groups I’m a part of because I don’t buy into their labeling games.), “introvert” is one of the few labels I apply to myself with no hesitation. I suspect that if experienced much of what he went through, I would experience similar frustrations because the attention and constant interaction seemed to be way too much.

There was something about George that struck me as being a polymath, too. He had several interests that went beyond the scope of music. And he seemed to be the sort who had a sort of drive where he could teach himself, too. I suspect that this sort of thing was another reason why he and Paul came to be at odds with each other when doing projects together. As Paul strikes me as being a specialist sort. I’m not saying that either type of expertise is better than the other, but it can make interaction difficult.

I get being someone who regularly has her hands in different types of projects and finding so much of what is out there as being interesting. It’s precisely why I am working on so many things other than this blog at the moment. And it’s precisely why I felt so unfilled and frustrated with being made to choose a major in college. Regardless of that bit about me, I think this point about George deserves much more discussion than it receives, and I hope to touch upon it more some day, too.

George seemed to walk the line of being so sure of who he was, but got it that he was part of something collective and undefinable (at least to our human abilities) and wanted to have a better sense of what it was. Despite what social anxiety I had when I was younger, I felt that doing just as I was told was socially acceptable was foolish if there was no good reason for it and felt wrong to me. But even then, I knew that that wasn’t an excuse to say the hell with everyone else. I also have always felt as if I’m a part of something bigger. There’s something that explains why so much seems familiar, yet I have yet to truly grasp it.

With That Being Said…

It seems as if the more I learn about George, the more I like him. And that even includes what negative there was about him. I feel if I said much of nothing in this post. But I think that feeling comes from the fact that I know I could easily say more.