My neighborhood is diverse, to put it kindly. On any given evening, one might hear pop from a dozen countries, in a half dozen languages. I get Chinese opera from one neighbor, mariachi from another, and bluegrass from a third. Weekend parties and home recitals result in a cacophony of languages and styles, but the one thing that everyone agrees on is the Beatles. Oh, yes, the Beatles transcend all cultures, all languages. We all Imagine all the people. We all Shine On. We’re all Feelin’ Groovy.
When I come home, tired and achy and world weary, it’s a distinct pleasure to hear the house on the corner, with three generations of Chinese, getting by with a little help from their friends. I’m grateful that the aged Republicans next door will Let It Be. I know the single mother across the street works 8 Days a Week, and we’re happy to feed her cat. I’m so grateful that my partner and I don’t have to Hide Your Love Away.
Really, when it comes right down to it, we all Feel Fine and we Help each other, because Tomorrow Never Knows.