Finally, a name for the affliction I've had since early 1964. Doesn't matter that I had to coin the name for this affliction myself. Please: Steal, borrow, or co-opt my neologism when you need an explanation for mystified family, incredulous friends, or anyone staring at you with disbelief as you begin waxing rhapsodically about the Fab Four's music.
As I embarrassed myself - again - in front of a class by breaking down while extolling the divine magic of If I Fell, I began reflecting on a way to describe how this music never lets me down. That was after the first week's class ended.
In week two it was And Your Bird Can Sing that ignited me so intensely I actually scared myself a bit. On the drive home, de-briefing my over-the-top enthusiasm while de-constructing this song for the class - one I've probably listened to at least five hundred times since 1966 - I still couldn't explain myself to myself.
Yer Blues and While My Guitar Gently Weeps were today's gateway to my rapture. I re-played Ringo's brief drum break in Yer Blues as he downshifts the band from 4/4 to 6/8 at least four times. If that wasn't deranged enough, I then moved into no-man's land after While My Guitar Gently Weeps ended while trying to get through a mention of Paul McCartney and Eric Clapton's performance of that George Harrison song in the Concert for George documentary. And then suddenly, I landed on the name of the affliction that has had me for almost sixty years. Please share with me here - or offline - what your most recent bout of Beatles Brain did to you. Nothing is too far-fetched, trust me.