RARE Beatles Interview! Houston, 1965.

This rare transcript is from the Beatles’ 1965 press conference in Houston, Texas.

San Antonio’s KONO aired the interview, then mailed copies to anyone requesting a transcript.

10-year-old Patty took them up on their offer.

52 YEARS LATER, Patty found the transcript while Spring Cleaning and sent me a surprise copy!

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So.

Without further ado I share it with you verbatim . . . minus their spelling mistakes.

(Sherridan? Really? )

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!

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How did you feel when you were trapped in the plane last night? **

Ringo: Terrified.

What are your plans for after the tour?

John: If we’re still alive, we’d like to rest.

No offense meant here: After your popularity runs out, what are you going to do?

John: Don’t know really. Haven’t really thought about it.

Do you think it’ll ever end?

John: I don’t know . . . All good things come to an end.

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A lot of people say the Rolling Stones and other groups have gotten more popular than you. Does this worry you?

George: No.

I understand that Lightnin’ Hopkins is a great idol of Ringo’s. Do you think you’ll see him while you are here?

Ringo: I do like him very much. But I don’t think I’ll get a chance to see him.

We have a television show here in Houston where we read the comic strips. Isn’t there a Beatle comic strip that is coming out?

Paul: If there is a Beatle comic strip, we don’t know anything about it.

Do you think you’re going to make another movie in the fall?

John: I think the next movie we are going to make will be in the Springtime.

Paul: It will be in Spain.

George: It is called ‘A Talent for Loving.’

Ringo: But we’ll probably change that.

Which country do you think has the most Beatle fans?

Paul: America.

This is to Ringo: I heard last night when you walked out of the plane and looked at all the fans, you were terrified . . . Were you really?

Ringo: You can bet I was terrified.

Paul, it’s been reported that you are going to marry Jane Asher . . .

Paul: It’s been reported, but I never said it . . . so what do you do . . . I don’t know about it.

Are you?

Paul: The newspapers seem to know, but I don’t know.

Did you watch the space shot preparations this morning?

George: No.

What do you think of the press conference?

John, Paul, George, and Ringo LAUGH.

It has been reported that in Playboy magazine that one of you said ‘All Americans are fascists.’ Quote unquote.

John: It sounds like something that was shoved into my mouth (laughs). I really don’t mean what that report had in it.

Oh, then you don’t think they are?

John: No.

Are the Beatles going to Mexico in the next year?

George: No, not planned. But we don’t know.

This is for Ringo: Have you picked out a name for your baby yet?

Ringo: No, I haven’t.

Why does Paul keep biting his fingernails?

Paul: (laughs) I’m not biting my fingernails. I’m just chewing a bit.

Someone asked George if he had any brothers or sisters. George said had two brothers, and John said he had no sisters to speak of . . . Is this a direct slap at Mrs. Caldwell?

George: Yeah.

I read in a column in the Houston paper that Ringo had said, ‘Women should be obscene, not heard.’  . . . is that true?

Ringo: No.

How do you fellas like England?

Paul: It’s just like home to us.

What do the Beatles think of Texas?

Paul: We’ve only been to Dallas and here and we nearly got killed both times. **

Do you think you’ll ever get to San Antonio?

John: Well, not on this tour. Some of the other guys have told us about the Alamo.

What are you going to do on your days off the 23rd and 27th?

George: I’m not telling you!

Paul: Wouldn’t be a day off then.

What do you plan to do after this tour?

Ringo: We’ll go back to England and holiday.

George, would you take your hand off the mike? It’s causing a hum.

George: I kinda like hum.

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Right outside the hotel now, George,  there are several thousand loyal, excited fans who would tear you apart if they got ahold of you. How does this make you feel, now that you’ve gone through several years like that?

George: Well we’re organized, you know. I mean we have organized security forces. Nobody sees us leave the hotel. So how could we get killed?

Are Scotch and Cokes really your favorite drinks?

John: Ringo drinks Bourbon.

Ringo, is photography your hobby?

Ringo: No, not anymore.

Why did you drop it?

Ringo: I was sick of taking photos in a room.

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What do you think would be the perfect tour?

Paul: Well, one where we have good audiences and it is well organized.

On the Help! album, the British version, you’ve got a couple of tracks. One was strings and the other a country take-off . . . Are you going to do more things with strings or stay with sound as it is or what?

Paul: We only did the strings because . . . um, it was good for a change.

It’s beautiful! Really groovy, man.

Paul: Oh! Well, thank you very much!

What do you think of Elvis Presley?

George: I didn’t like this earlier records. I’ve liked him better these last few years . . . but he’s still, you know . . . it still doesn’t do much for me.

Paul, what do you think about the concert being scheduled the same day as the space shot?

Paul: Well, I hadn’t heard about the space shot.

With concerts causing all the headaches they do, have to sneak through towns and all that . . . why don’t you just ditch them and make your money off of movies?

John: Because we like it. We like doing concerts.

(applause)

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Paul, what is your favorite record?

Paul: I don’t know, really. There are so many good ones. The records I like are done by American groups.

What do you think of the American policy in Vietnam?

John: I’d rather not think about it.

What do you think about the rising popularity of Folk Music? Like Sonny and Cher and Bobby Dylan?

Ringo: Sonny and Cher is not Folk. But still we all like Folk Music. Especially the kind like The Byrds and Sonny and Cher.

Before too long it looks like you, George, are going to be the only single one in the group. Are you going to make it unanimous?

Paul: Wait a minute . . .

George: The papers keep saying Paul is getting married. But he knows nothing about it.

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Paul, are you getting married?

Paul: No.

Paul, did you like making Help! or A Hard Day’s Night best?

Paul: We enjoyed making them both. But I think we had a better time on Help!

Did you ever get tired of being Beatles?

John: We’d be dead if we did.

How did the critics in England rate your movie Help! ?

John: They gave it pretty good reviews.

What do you think of American teenagers trying to be more British than American?

George: I kind of like it, really. When we first came over here, we thought American girls dressed rather poorly. But now they seem to look neater.

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Does Ringo want his wife to have a boy or a girl?

Ringo: I don’t know. I don’t mind as long as it is one or the other.

Do John and Ringo have their wives with them on tour?

John: No.

Paul, do you like champagne?

Paul: No, I don’t like it at all.

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Is it true that you don’t consider yourselves musicians?

John: Yes, because none of us read music, you know. We are entertainers. Not musicians.

Do you think that you should be able to read music?

John: Yes, it would be very good for a young group starting out.

Paul, what did you have for breakfast?

Paul: I had half a grapefruit, some Shredded Wheat, and tea.

What characteristics do you admire most in young girls?

George: Beatlemania.

Do you approve of middle-aged Beatle-maniacs?

John: Yes, they are very nice.

Moderator: This will be the last question.

Will this be your last tour in America?

John: No. We haven’t scheduled another but there’s no reason for this to be our last tour.

Are you enjoying this tour so far?

John, Paul, George, and Ringo: Oh yes. Yes. Very much.

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The Beatles performing at the Sam Houston Coliseum, August 19, 1965:

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Facts:

Tickets were $5.oo.

The Beatles were paid $85,000 for 2 performances.

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** Over 2000 fans mobbed Houston’s Hobby Airport after a local station broadcast the Beatles’ flight arrival time. Teenagers swarmed the tarmac. Some even managed to climb onto the plane and mobile stairway to bang on doors and windows, preventing their safe exit. Officials had to extricate the Beatles and their managers atop a service truck used for unloading luggage. This was a year after a similar incident at the Dallas airport. 

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Thank you SO MUCH Patty for sending me this awesome piece of Beatle history!

I do know my grandmother took my 13-year-old Dad to this concert. Granny told me her ears rang for 3 days!  Anyone else reading attend this concert or remember hearing this interview? I’d love to hear from you!

With Love From Me To You,

Jennifer

 

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Beryl’s Chicken Diary: Remembering Momma.

That lady ate your mother.

I closed my eyes.

Missus Jenkins has no tact.

I made the mistake of telling her about the last day me and Babs saw Momma. Which honestly, I try not to think about. It still hurts remembering that itchy-nosed lady and all her questions about gluten and additives.

“You don’t give them hormones, do you?”

She coughed in her elbow.

When the farmer said no, she reached down and grabbed Momma.

Just like that.

Why? Was she fat?

Me and Babs looked at each other.

Forcing Momma’s soft, warm, feathery body on our memory was more than we wanted to think about.

Let’s talk about something else, suggested Babs, who always says the right thing.

So they did.

They discussed yesterday’s maggots on last week’s banana peels and the overweight chihuahua next door.

–until it was time for sleep.

But I couldn’t sleep.

Not with Momma all warm on my mind.

Don’t be sad, Babs whispered, feeling me always.

So I thought about Christopher and the profound impact of human choice.

We moved to a feed store after they took Momma.

And it was awful.

There’s no easy transition from domestic freedom to cages and fluorescent lights.

Rabbits, kittens, pigs, turtles, parakeets, ferrets, chickens, mice . . .

The place was brimming with orphans, crying for love and sunshine.

Me and Babs spent weeks in that cage, tripling in size while animals came and went.

Our insides were prime for laying, increasing our chances for adoption. So every day was roulette.

I remember feeling really low that morning — resigning myself to a crock pot when I saw him by the soy-free layer food. Discussing eggs with Jennifer. Light bouncing off his head and paint all over his jeans.

Feed Store Man led them over and Jennifer stuck her pale face right up to the grate.

Don’t look at her! I warned, scooting to the back of the dirty cage we shared with an aging rooster and bossy Araucana whose name escapes me now. Momma was long gone but I remember what she said.

Never make eye contact with a human unless you wanna be picked for something.

But Babs had a bright red comb, and everyone knows red catches human eyeballs the fastest.

“That one looks good,” Jennifer said, pointing to my sister.

Oh please God, no.

The man opened the latch, reached in and grabbed Babs, who burst into flappy squawks. Really she was screaming my name.

He handed her to Jennifer.

The door slammed and I rushed to the front.

Please don’t take my sister, I pleaded with my eyeballs, sticking my beak through the grate.

Babs looked at me, her pumpkin eyes woeful.

I sank to the floor.

Then Jennifer paused.

“Let’s get two,” she said, suddenly.

And I stood back up.

Curcurcurcur, I managed, wishing my comb was bigger. Brighter.

Christopher peered inside.

So I locked eyes with him.

I had to stand sideways to do it but I locked eyes with him hard, sending all my feelings.

Please pick me.

I puffed out my wings a little bit.

My tiny heart pounded.

And that one.”

Feed Store Man opened the latch and grabbed the Araucana, who — of course — would give them pretty blue eggs instead of brown.

I knew it.

Humans and their ridiculous emphasis on color.

I sank back down again.

“Not that one. The other one.”

He pointed to me.

I tried to stand up.

But —

You know

that funny

feeling

when your

belly melts

into warm

relief

so fast

your top half

feels empty?

And maybe you might fall over?

Feed store Man scooped me up and handed me to Christopher.

Babs was so relieved she pooped right there, a creamy white dollop landing beside Jennifer’s unpainted toe.

And then what happened? Jenkins asked.

Then we came here, I said. And scoot over. We have this whole roost and poor Wanda’s squished against the wall.

I wonder what we taste like, Jenkins said, scooting over.

See?

No tact.

G’night, Jenkins. I closed my eyes, snuggling into my sister.  G’night, Wanda, I added. But she was already asleep.

That night I dreamt we were babies again.

Colored like buttered popcorn.

Scrambling over wood chips seeing who could cheep the loudest.

With Momma, watching from the corner.

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I miss you, Momma.

love, Beryl

P.S. I have a Facebook page now.  Would you be my friend?

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If you’re new, hi. My name’s Beryl. My story started last summer when I was brutally attacked and left for dead. I wrote down what happened and hijack Jennifer’s blog sometimes to write some more, that’s all.