It was a day when people understood each other, and talked to each other about things that weren't on or about television or Facebook. But still, people found out that the Beatles, the best band in- I mean, the best band in the entire World, would come out of retirement, get together and play all of their songs in their entirety featuring John, Paul, George and Ringo, but not Pete Best.
It was a day when Mexico hadn't yet been invaded by the United States. (It was like something out of a Cantinflas movie, where then-President Obama, who had gone golfing multiple times, his games not been broadcast or published, Mexican drug cartels taking advantage of the media blackout, was replaced with a mute Mexican lookalike and suddenly all hell broke loose and before long, war with Mexico was new normal.) The world was in a state of limbo, where nothing really bad was happening, but nothing really good was, either.
For example,iIt was a day where somewhere in Monaco someone was heard saying defensively, "I don't mind the fascists, as long as they have good style!" And they did. The fascists had wonderful style, and fabulous sense of fashion, and the oppressed were all the more secretly grateful that the mandatory uniforms looked so well on anyone. People were still sent to secret prisons and tortured, but at least they looked great while they suffered.
But still, it was a day when men could do things like this in public.
Anyway, that day when the Beatles played, and everyone knew that it had once been impossible, was when everything was the same as usual, but it didn't feel as bad, and everyone was actually happy to be alive, even Pete Best, because he had seen the Beatles had gone out and play several dazzling shows that would be talked about for the next few years until a Mexican presidential impostor absentmindedly says "¡Salud!" with a perfect accent to a sneezing Secretary of State. There's nothing quite like going to see a Beatles show.
The End.
