Because think about it. The Beatles are announcing they’re gonna sell their music on iTunes. That’s all. But there’s so much hype around Apple these days — and, let’s face it, around me personally — that they want me to come in here and sex up their press conference. I mean, this is the friggin Beatles. And they’re asking me to help promote them. They’re hoping my popularity will rub off on them. Pinch me. Seriously.
Anyway, it’s late here, but I totally can’t sleep. It’s just so great to be back in London, even if, like almost all of the former Soviet Bloc cities, it still has that oppressive gray feeling everywhere you go, that crappy cement architecture and the gloomy people shuffling along and not smiling, as if they just can’t manage to shrug off nearly a century of communist rule. Anyhoo. Yeah. We’ve got the Beatles. Yoko Ono is being kept under sedation in her apartment in New York. Paul’s good to go. Ringo is hanging out here at the hotel and throwing TVs out the windows just to be nostalgic. Awkward moment a little while ago when I asked, “So will George be here?” They all gave me this look like I’d farted in church. “I mean George Martin,” I said. Oh, they said, sure, he’s gonna be here. And they all looked really relieved.