By Terry Ott

With the improbable title of Beatles, Football and Me, Hunter Davies, who at one point was the group's "official" biographer, has a new one out that claims to confirm that John Lennon and Brian Epstein got jiggy with it in Spain, circa, 1963.

Not that I really give a toss, but does this not seem like a gimmick to sell a new book?

I have not read the book so will make no reproaches, but it would seem to me that since both individuals are long dead, it would be pretty hard to confirm what happened, now some 43 years ago.

A definite he said, he said, bollocks-fest.

The promo stuff for the book sez that John was not a poof, but would try anything once.

Now, previous writings on this 30 year olde story have gone both ways-sorry-with some reports saying Lennon and Eppy did have something goin' on, and others saying it was a figment of John's vivid imagination.

Once again, who cares?

Personally, I don't even wanna think about it, as it makes no matter to the Beatles music, or legacy.

By all accounts, John was a wolf who chased every piece of poontang he could catch-and some he couldn't. So, to me, the whole gay thing seems, well, old and tired.

We'll see how the book reads.

Readers-and others-continue to inform your very dear correspondent that has again freaked out on tea, what with me musings on the looming Leggy MountMcCartney/Heathen Millstone divorce wankings.

These peeps tell me, and send printed "proof" that Millstone is some sort of 21st century serial vixen sociopath who has not only fleeced Macca, but others as well, including a man she was enganged to be married to, just before she took up with Dirk.

Obviously, there is about zero support for the mother of Macca's girl child in the olde UK.

Will this translate into a "victory" in divorce court and more importantly, in the court of public opinion for Sir Paulie when the sheit really hits the fan?

Fooked if I know, mates, yet I still think that this thing unsettled, will resemble the peace proces in the Middle East, which is to say, not too damn good.

First, Paul and Heathen must declare an immediate cease-fire, and let the media go back to what they do best, makin' it up as they go along.

Then, lock the star crossed lovers legalists in a room until a deal is reached.

It's the only sane way, really.

What did he just say?

I can hear the outrage 'round the world, directed at your dear correspondent, the London Times rated 4th Best Beatle Blogger in the whole wide, WWW.

This is what I say: I hate the idea and concept that the Beatles/Rutle Corps et al can get their (circus) act together and produce-according to multiple reports-the most AMAZING multi-track 5.1 or more reproductions of songs from ALL their catalogue, yet they STILL can not see past their daft arses to get the bloody back catalogue out in LOve quality.

And that's why I hate LOve, at least right now.

All you need is LOve?

Bollocks!

You/we need the whole lot of albums and singles in 5.1 and do it Yesterday (ha!).

My esteemed collegue at the NYTimes pointed this out when he reviewed LOve some time ago now, and his keen observations still hold true.

The rocket scientists at Apple should forget about rush-releasing a LOve soundtrack, and get into the damn studio and get the catalogue remastered, you twits!

Then, and only then, will I love LOve.

I have been hearing from readers who believe that I am wrong when I speculate that Heathen Millstone is headed for a humongous pay-off in her divorce from Dirk McQuickly AKA Sir Paulie "Stubby" McCartney.

Yet Coach Steve has posted some UK press tripe upon this day, which suggest that feinds of Millstone hope her to collect more than $400 MILLION, if she-devil can get the case heard in the US.

In addition, reports one such tabloid, Dirk has already offered Heathen about $100 mill, IF she kept her yap shut FOREVER, or until death do they part, whichever is later.

Now, Dirk is starting to come around, but 100 ain't gonna do do it Paulie.

Up, up, up, to the toppermost of the cash-r-most!

Heathen DOES have a legal leg to stand on, and watch for her to give Macca at least one bona fide chance to cough up the brass, before she moves in for the kill, and a book deal. Which I guess is one in the same.

Again, Paulie, good morning, good morning, good morning, agh!!!

Even though the UK press is presently tearing open a new one for Heathen Millstone, I predict she will get the last, and biggest laff.

Sir Paulie McCartney is of course a fave son of England, but things have changed a lot in family law since the Prince 'O' Wails got away with a steal of 35 mill or so to Lady Di almost 10 years ago.

And if Millstone can get even part of the case heard in an American court by a judge who is not a Beatle fan, Macca will be damn lucky to have a pot to tinkle in still left when the whole piss-fest is mercifully laid to rest.

The English tabloids have seemed to delight in publishing pix of Millstone looking a little worse for the where, yet methinks this will only, eventually, provide sympathy for the devil.

Plus how much dumber could Dirk be than to state on his divorce papers that Heathen had been "rude to staff," and had lifted a few jugs of cleaning fluid!

Yep, sounds like great grounds for divorce to me. If one is very daft.

If I were Macca's friend I would advise Him to wise up, soon.

Were this case goes to trial-which I believe it won't-Dirk will be very fortunate to not be stung for at least 100 million buckeroos, and probably a whole lot more.

But it will be the charges and counter-charges that will cost him the most, and I can't belive he is that stupid to let his rep go up in smoke over a bloody bunch of brass, and biggie boobs.

Whatever it takes to settle this thing yesterday-ha!-should be undertaken, even if it costs Macca more than 100 mill because in this day and age, he just can't win.

Nobody cares what He has to say about Millstone, but many millions do have an interest in His private life, of which Heathen has a good 4 years worth of to spill her guts to.

Paulie, fold your matrimonial hand before it's too late, and get on with your life and what's left of your career.

Some recent rumours about the state of Paul McCartney's achey breaky heart got me thinking of a morbid prediction I have made before, and will again.

I fear one of our heroes may croak on stage.

All of the big-time 60s rockers are in their 60s.

Ringo Starr is 66 for heck's sake, and is still performing.

Macca was supposedly headed back out on the road later this year, prior to the piss-up with Heathen Millstone.

The last time I broached this subject, I mentioned how the Who's John Entwistle just missed expiring on stage in Vegas by about 18 hours or so in 2002.

Some yelled at me, saying that olde John was actually done in my coke and strippers, but not necessarily in that order.

Yet he had presumably passed an insurance ryder for the tour, so I say ANYONE of the seemingly ageless rockers are fair game for a coronary on stage at some future gig.

To me, it is just common sense. Few-if any-of these guys were exactly models of health and diet right up into their 40s, with perhaps at least 75% of them heavy, heavy smokers along with shit diets and heavy alcohol abuse during their wild and crazy daze.

So just because they swill Perrier onstage and back now instead of Wild Turkey does not 20 years of fun, and 20 of middle age, undo.

It may well be true as they say that 60 is the new 40, yet that may hold more accurate for suburban weekend warriors rather than full monty ageing, heavy touring Baby Boomer rockers who had sympathy for the devilish.

Now I ain't sayin' that these olde geezers should retire to the old rock star home, but perhaps they might wish to entertain the idea that Clint Eastwood once articulated and observed- or vice the verse- to wit, "a good man's got to know his limitations."

I'm 51, and I know mine. My tea is strictly rationed now.

In the past year or so, we as Beatle fans have been fairly inundated with books on the group and individual members.

All of the written efforts did provide some further insight into the life and crazy times of the Beatles, but, in my opinion, only The Beatles by Bob Spitz came close to capturing any essence of the group.

Honourable mention goes to Tony Bramwell's memoir, which may have been the most brutally honest, many warts and all.

Yet even if you read every one of the reported 200 books written on the Beatles, NONE of them, I repeat, NONE of them, will have the same impact as puting on one side of ANY Beatles record.

There will always be millions of fans-including me-that yearn to know more about the group and its individual members and life/strife and times/troubles.

But in the end, it really IS all about the music.

It is doubtful that any writer will ever be able to re-capture for me the feeling that I had when I first heard I Want To Hold Your hand, or She Loves You.

A picture may contain a thousand words, but even 1000 pages of mere printed words fail me when they try to describe just what it was that made the Beatles the Beatles.

If the medium is the message, then it follows that the message IS the music.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Sorry, for the dearth of BBs lately, but I have been on a tea tasting bus cruise across the Great White North of Canuckistan, and as you may very well know, the Internet is a new fangled thang, up here.

In any bloody event, regular readers will of course be familar with my admiration for the pointy-eared one, Mirror Spock, and equally, the friendly Californiee uber-geeks at TOUP (toupltd.com), skipped by Sir Veechster Von Applefookerensteiner.

Both sent your trusty correspondent new offerings recently, and, ah, here they are:

MS passed on his re-done MFSL Yellow Submarine effort, and most importantly, a much techno fussed over DVD of A Hard Day's Night.

The YS package is a nice looking one, with a gear gold label, limited number treatment, and the original MFSL tape box reproduced.

The only problem is that this album, even when 1/2 speed mastered by MFSL, is perhaps the "worst" sounding Beatles record of all, so I'm not sure why Dr. Spock bothered, although the George Martin side does, to me, sound the "best" I've heard so far.

(This side IS fun to listen to, even though John Lennon, I seem to recall, called it rubbish.)

An interesting sidebar is that due to MS tweaking, one can now clearly hear the clunker note that George Harrison hit at the end of his live, All You Need Is Love solo, as recounted in Geoff Emerick's recent book.

But the real newz here is the MS AHDN, which has been video tweaked so much, that it is a joy to watch, again.

The Dolby Digital MONO soundtrack is sounding great, and MS has conveniently dropped in the You Can't Do That outtake into the body of the film, although that edit is noticable.

True completists may need to have the YS CD, but to me, the AHDN DVD is one the average fan may want to seek out as it tops all other versions currently available.

I don't want to drag you down in techinical details, but believe me, MS spent a great deal of time getting this thing to look splendid and I recommend that you screen it.

And speaking of AHDN, the TOUP boys have finished a DTS 5.1 mix of the original UK album, and I know, I know, I say this every time, but it may be the "best" one they have done, so far. It is their 17th attempt at 5.1, and so far, so good, or best.

The TOUPsters have come a long way in the past 3 years getting the seperation, soundstage, balance, vocal and bass down to an almost fine art, and I shudder to wonder whether Apple Corpse referrences TOUP's discs, in silent shame.

Every time TOUP does a Beatles 5.1, they have to be careful not to add too many sonic bells and whistles, as after all, the Fabs' 1963 to '67 recordings-even most of the White Album as well-were recorded on 4 or less tracks, and mixed with a single monitor at Abbey Road.

So if TOUP gets too fancy, the effect-while providing for "oh wow," moments-would not sound at all what we are "used to," and therefore, would fail, I think.

TOUP rides the fence well on this matter, and the new AHDN 5.1 is solid proof.

Well, well, well.

According to the tabloid UK press, Dirk McQuickly has offered a "quickie" settlement to estranged alleged wife/ho Heathen Millstone, of, give or take 30 million lbs.

Fook you, Millstone has said, apparently.

Dirk countered with what everyone on the planet already suspected, that Heathen was a "golddigger," and not the kind that used to perform with former Rat Packer Deano Martin, neither.

This means WAR!

Yes, this will be the pissing contest of the year, and look for a saw-off of about 100 mill, which will make the combined legalists, orgasmic.

Already, I'd bet that McQuickly is busy penning a song called, "I'm Down When I'm 64," with the opening line of "You tell lies thinkin' I can't see, you can't cry cuz you're laughin' at me, we shall scrimp and save."

Ahem.

But, if you ask me, I'd rather be described as a digger, than a bore.