The Fifth Beatle: Astrid Kirchherr

Beautiful and cool Astrid

Astrid was a photography student at Meisterschule für Mode, Textil, Grafik und Werbung in Hamburg when Klaus introduced her to the Beatles, who were playing at the Kaiserkeller. Kirchherr later said: "It was like a merry-go-round in my head, they looked absolutely astonishing... My whole life changed in a couple of minutes. All I wanted was to be with them and to know them."

It didn't take long for Astrid and Stuart Sutcliffe to become a couple and for Astrid's art school influence to impact the band. She asked to take publicity photos of them, and being dirt poor performers, they were happy to have professional shots to help them stand out in the crowd of bands on the scene. 

She gave them a look, style, and the Beatle haircuts. Her influence resulted in the look created on the album Meet the Beatles, handsome beatniks half-lit in black and white. 

Her style influenced great photographers of the next generation, including Annie Leibovitz and Richard Avedon. 

Astrid herself struggled after Stu's death in 1962, as people weren't as interested in her art as they were in her early photos of the Beatles. In an interesting twist of fate, she married drummer Gibson Kemp, who replaced Ringo Starr in Rory Storm and the Hurricanes. 

She went on to have shows and exhibitions throughout the world, including Liverpool, London, and here in the States at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. She died in 2020 at the age of 82. Beatles historian Mark Lewisohn praised her involvement with the band as "immeasurable" and credited her as an "intelligent, inspirational, innovative, daring, artistic, awake, aware, beautiful, smart, loving, and uplifting friend to many."

Lipstick on the Mic: Connie Francis

My dad had a thing for curly, short-haired brunettes.

Connie Francis was an Italian-American from New Jersey. Her dad would have put the Dance Moms to shame, entering her in countless talent shows and beauty pageants when she was just a child. 

She was beautiful, talented, AND smart - salutatorian of the Newark Arts High School, class of 1955. 

She appeared on various variety shows back in the day, waiting for her big break, including Arthur Godfrey's Talent Scouts and NBC's Startime Kids. She was hired to voice Tuesday Weld's singing in the movie Rock Rock Rock, which led to her being a ghost performer for the movie Jamboree. 

Then she scored her first major hit with the song Who's Sorry Now? when it debuted on American Bandstand, New Year's Day, 1958. A flurry of hits followed, including Stupid Cupid, My Happiness, Frankie, and Lipstick on Your Collar. 

My soft spot for Connie comes from the first-ever spring break movie and hit song Where the Boys Are, released in 1961. She sang and starred in the picture as Angie, who falls for jazz musician Basil. 

Connie went through some personal traumas in the 70s and 80s, including being raped while on tour and her brother's murder by the mafia. She has written several books, appeared in revues in Vegas, and finally retired in 2018. 

Because social media is a bizarre and often wonderful thing, her song Pretty Little Baby from 1961 became a viral hit in 2025, an achievement she was able to enjoy before her passing in July 2025. In a memorial post, The Beatles' social media lauded her as the first female rock star and noted she rivaled them in popularity in the early '60s. A lovely swan song. 

YA Book Club: To Tell Your Love

1950, the evolution of the American Teenager

To Tell Your Love is probably the oldest book I'm going to review this year, published in 1950 when teenagers were barely a cultural phenomenon. It predates rock and roll by five years; even my own mother was too young to read this, eight years old when it was first published. The book is several tales woven into one, each featuring one of the children in the Armacost family: 

• Theo, 21, is a pragmatic nurse who stumbled into a relationship while caring for the cantankerous grandfather of a reserved young man; 
• Anne, 16, is mourning the end of a relationship with a boy who was frankly not that into her; and
• Johnny, 14, the youngest sibling, is coming to terms with the awkwardness of growing up and perhaps loving himself. 

There are additional storylines as well. Nora, Anne's best friend, who quit school to marry far too young, struggles with the thought "Is this it?" as her schoolgirl romance gives way to the reality of too many bills, too many diapers, and not enough money. There's also Johnny's best friend and his family, whose gruff exterior belies the grace exhibited with casual generosity, overstuffed picnic baskets, and a championship trophy for July the cat. 

Even the bit players are fully fleshed characters in this small New York town. 

Stolz attended Columbia University at age 16, married at 18, and began writing in 1949 when an illness kept her homebound. She received the 1953 Child Study Association of America's Children's Book Award for In a Mirror, the Newbery Honors in 1962 for Belling the Tiger, and 1966 for The Noonday Friends, and her entire body of work was awarded the George G. Stone Recognition of Merit in 1982. She passed in 2006.

Why Art Matters: Spy Camera!

Temptation courtesy of the Johnson Smith Co.  

The true definition of temptation for a child of the 70s has to be back-page comic book adverts for such amazing products as Sea Monkeys, magic tricks, Charles Atlas workout routines, ant farms, and slot machine banks. 

What I wanted, more than anything, was the miniature spy camera. Like a pint-sized Margaret Bourke-White, I was going to document, in teeny-tiny pictures, life on the east side of Jackson, that 10-block radius that was my world back then. 

But to obtain the camera required a combination of candy wrappers (Bazooka or Dum-Dum), a self-addressed, stamped envelope, and/or a check or money order from mom and dad. Therein lay the problem - parents who attempted to put a rein on candy and junk coming into the house, there was no way they would say yes to giving me the $2.95 required to obtain the object of my desire. I didn't even bother to ask. 

Dream unfulfilled.

110 retro style

Flash-forward 50 years or so, and I have been hit with ads for retro camera keychains. They look like the 110 cameras of old, with bright packaging, cute designs, and cool filters. They were advertised by Facebook sellers for $14.95 and have become a viral hit with the kids, as there are five designs to collect, including a mystery package. 

But I have become wary of FB sellers after the seven-for-the-price-of-one sweater grifters from Christmas. And, I was looking for something more specific, an unresolved dream as remembered from my Casper the Friendly Ghost and Josie and the Pussycats comics. 

It's taken nearly 50 years, and here you are 

And then I found it - the spy camera of my youth for $9.99 on Amazon. Using the inflation calculator set to 1976, $2.95 is actually worth $17.27 today, so I got it cheaper than it would have been back then. On top of that, I had a $10 credit in my account from a virtual test session I did a while ago. Well, that's practically free. 

I hit that Buy Now button, fully expecting crap. 

It arrived in less than 24 hours. 

It looks just like a miniature Pentax K-1000. It also came with a built-in flash, a charging cord, a keychain, a wrist strap, a memory card, and instructions on how to use it. It holds 9999 images, so no film processing. It holds a charge very well. There are filters! The LCD display is tiny, but it works. There's a date and time stamp that I need to figure out how to update. It's freaking adorable. 

So far, I've taken pictures of Dave, a bird's nest, the backyard, my desk, and random selfies. I can't wait to take more. 

Raised on Country Sunshine: Heartbreak

Can I make the case for us as Honky Tonk Angels with our candy cigarettes? 

Kitty Wells, It Wasn't God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels

Kenny Rogers, The Gambler

Everly Brothers, Bye Bye Love

Loretta Lynn, Coal Miner's Daughter

Freddie Fender, Before the Next Teardrop Falls

Patsy Cline, Fall to Pieces

Cowboy Junkies, Misguided Angel

Hank Williams, So Lonesome I Could Cry

Bonnie Raitt, I Can't Make You Love Me 

And the granddaddy of them all: 

George Jones, He Stopped Loving Her Today

Typing Out Loud: Get Out

 

Sigh. Not the way for our community to make the national news.

Comstock Park is crushed to learn that a recent house explosion is the result of an attempted murder-suicide. The now-deceased husband blew up his family home with his wife in it, all because she was going through with divorce proceedings. 

What has emerged is the story of two heroes, one of whom is Will's friend Manny, who ran into the rubble to save the woman who brought him cookies when they first moved into the neighborhood. The other is a man who sustained burns and broken windows to help rescue the woman as well. 

She herself is known for being well-beloved, a Polish beauty queen who was known for her kindness and stewardship. 

Stories of the man who committed this brutal act have not been as kind, nor view his death as tragic. From the beginning, neighbors were posting on social media that this was no accident. 

Has there been an increase in instances of domestic violence, or has it been resilience on the part of women who have now chosen to shout instead of whisper? Have men become more boorish, more violent, more drastic in their measures? 

I'm also curious as to why we haven't heard from the son, in his 20s, who was living in the house at the time. 

Time and again, I hate that we are now often quoting my favorite author for her sad perception of domestic relationships: men are afraid we will embarrass them, and women are afraid they will kill us. 

I came home and checked in with Dave, and asked him please, if he is unhappy, to let me know and get out. He said the same to me, and we hugged and kissed. 

Sometimes, I'm ok with being old and boring. I'm so sorry to my neighbor, I wish it had been easy for her. 

If you're not happy, get out. Prove 'em wrong some other way. Don't they say living well is the best revenge?  

Edited to add the connection is closer than I anticipated: the victim is a former skate mom; I used to skate with and judged with her daughter at local basic skills competitions. 

That's It, Just One Line: Me and Bobby McGee

 "Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose."