Habershon of the Month

Monday, December 3rd, 2001

We have a Habershon of the Month! Stay tuned for the big
announcement. Meanwhile I’m accepting nominations for January.

I heard from Nick today for the first time in about four years.
That’s okay, Nick. I’m just as bad, and your baby sister certainly
makes up for you in the communications department. Anyway, check out his
page
for all his news. I’m slowly updating everyone’s pages and
plotting as to which Habershon will be embarrassed next.

Oh, and I also heard from Sarah (for the first time in ten
years). Her e-mail address is now posted and she’s promised to write
when she gets some free time. I presume you’re working for The
Guardian
, Sarah?

George Harrison

Saturday, December 1st, 2001

It’s rare that I shed a tear when a celebrity dies. I can only think of Princess Diana and Charles Schulz in the last few years. It happened again yesterday, though.

These days, if John gets up before me in the morning the first thing I say to him is “Did we catch him?”, and if I get up first, he’ll say to me, “Did we catch him?” Yesterday I was up first and reading the news on my laptop at the kitchen table. John wandered in a few minutes later. “Did we catch him?”, he asked. “No,” I said, “but George Harrison died.” And with that, I burst into tears. Such memories I have of the Beatles. What a major part of our lives they were. I always remember (brother) Paul being extremely pleased with himself because he bought their first single, “Love me Do,” which only went to number 15 in the charts. I wonder if you still have that, Paul? It must be quite valuable. Paul also brought the Sergeant Pepper album home first and I was mortified that Mum and Dad listened to it before I did. Mum was already raving about “When I’m 64” before I’d even heard it.

I also remember receiving a letter from (brother) Paul when he went to school in America. He wrote about how everyone thought he looked like George Harrison, and when he went to Las Vegas with some friends they made him walk down the street in front of them. Within a few minutes there was a whole crowd of people following him. Incidentally, Paul, that letter you wrote was the beginning of my determination to live in America one day, even though I’d never been here. Everything you wrote about, from the “rest rooms” on the Greyhound buses to the carpets on the pavements in Las Vegas had me mesmerized.Back to George Harrison. We knew his death was imminent, but how sad it was when we actually heard the news. I’m playing all my Beatles CDs today.

Catch who? Bin Laden, stupid.