The Remarkable Partnership

by Noel J.

“Calm down, old fellow. Take a deep breath,” chuckled John. 

“Maybe after you get a haircut,” mumbled Dale as he untangled himself from dusty wires and speaker cords. “Ellen, why are you the only one who appreciates me? I work for these men all day and all night, and don’t get an ounce of gratitude. ” 

The Beatles in the studio

Dale Callaway, a man of 64 years, lay down on the cold, dusty floor among cords and wires to take a short break from his untangling. He had been up for hours organizing equipment for the studio, yet hadn’t received a single thank you. Dale was a technician, and quite a good one at that. He worked hard and never took days off. Sadly, at work, he thought he was invisible. He had never been much of a talker, and had always felt overrun by the noise and youth that filled up the studio. He could have been from the stone age in comparison to the bright, lively band members. You would think that this would make a man very lonely, but he would tell you that he always had Ellen. Dale and Ellen were more like one person than two separate people: incomplete without one another. They were two halves, and they fit together perfectly. He was usually pessimistic and often fairly blue, and she was a light that brightened others simply with her presence. 

Ellen died last year. Dale never took off his wedding ring. He refused to sleep on her side of the bed. He couldn’t let her go.

The band that worked in Dale’s studio was very popular. In all honesty, he didn’t understand why. They certainly didn’t think things through before saying them, and their music was completely obscene, filled with random subjects like submarines and octopuses. Not only this, but they managed to pop out a new song practically every hour. Through the eyes of an old, relatively dispassionate technician, they were not especially noteworthy. 

As usual, the band was recording a new song, and it was Dale’s job to set up the technical parts of the studio. He lethargically swept himself up from his resting spot among the tangled wires, when his foot hooked onto a cord. As he started walking, Dale tripped over the cord, and when he fell, the cord pulled down a speaker that it was attached to. He hit the ground right before the speaker tumbled down onto his hand. “Ouch!” he wailed. “Could one of you boys help me out for a minute, instead of spending more time marveling about your latest radio appearance?” he shouted across the room. 

“Sure!” barked one of the men from the band, who surprisingly didn’t seem to be at all taken aback by Dale’s criticism. He strolled over to the pile of technical equipment that surrounded Dale and chortled, “You’ve gotten yourself into quite a mess, haven’t you?” 

“Yes, in fact I have. And it’s all your fault,” Dale replied fiercely. “These wires and speakers were for you to record one of your irrelevant songs. You know what? I don’t even want your help.” Then, accompanied by an obnoxious grunt, he pulled his hand out from under the speaker, flying backwards as he did so. A soft choir of friendly laughter came from the other side of the room. 

Dale sat up, and reached for his glasses, which had fallen off as he fell. After putting them on, he examined his speaker-crushed hand, only to find a bare ring finger. Dale instantly burst into tears. “I’m sorry, Ellen!” he sniffled as he crawled around the floor in search of his wedding ring. “It must have gotten stuck between the speakers,” he whispered between coughs. 

“It’s all because of these careless musicians, who take everything for granted. They sing about love, but they don’t know what they’re talking about. They haven’t lost the love of their life, and found themselves still talking to her a year later. No, they flaunt their happiness around while I spend my days making sure everyone can hear them loud and clear! Nothing’s going to change for me, Ellen! You were my whole world, and without you, my life is empty! Nothing’s gonna change my world.” Dale’s words were drowned out by more coughing and sobbing as he searched and searched for his ring. Without finding it, he left the studio in a frenzy. Right before he slammed the door behind him, he heard the band member who had come to help him remark, “Boys, let’s look on the bright side. I’ve got a new idea.”

Dale never returned to the studio. 


Years later…

Dale Callaway strolled through a small record shop off of Portobello Road. He rolled his wrinkled fingers across the tops of the crisp new records, until he came across a title he recognized. The record was called Abbey Road: The Beatles.  

Dale thought to himself, That was my studio! And that was my band! He scrolled through the other titles under the Beatles, and decided to buy two of the most recent ones. He realized that he had never really listened to the Beatles’ music or thought about it in depth. Yes, he had certainly heard it, but there is a big difference between hearing and listening. 

That evening, when Dale got home, he put the first record on his record player, sat down with a cup of tea, and began to listen. Time seemed to fly by as he listened to the first record all the way through. Old favorites such as Guy Mitchell and Pat Boone suddenly lost importance as his near-hatred for the band was quickly transformed into a new passion. He was greeted by a surge of happiness that he knew he hadn’t felt for years now. After listening to the first album all the way through, he tried the second one. It was even better than the first! He even remembered overhearing two of the men writing a few of the songs. John always had the sad parts, and Paul wrote the cheerful melody. Dale was absolutely unsure as to how men creating such wonderful music could be so oblivious to people like himself while working in the same studio.

Just then, a song came on that nearly made Dale drop his tea cup…

"Across The Universe"

Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup

They slither wildly as they slip away across the universe

Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my opened mind

Possessing and caressing me

Jai Guru Deva OM

Nothing's gonna change my world

Nothing's gonna change my world

Nothing's gonna change my world

Nothing's gonna change my world

Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes

They call me on and on across the universe

Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box

They tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe

Jai Guru Deva OM

Nothing's gonna change my world

Nothing's gonna change my world

Nothing's gonna change my world

Nothing's gonna change my world

Sounds of laughter, shades of life are ringing through my open ears

Inciting and inviting me

Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns

It calls me on and on, across the universe

Jai Guru Deva OM

Nothing's gonna change my world

Nothing's gonna change my world

Nothing's gonna change my world

Nothing's gonna change my world

Jai Guru Deva

Jai Guru Deva

Jai Guru Deva

Jai Guru Deva

Jai Guru Deva

“They listened to me! I only heard them, but they really listened to me! I remember! That’s what I was saying the last day at the studio! They were listening to me all along,” said Dale out loud, but this time, to no one but himself. In remembering his last day at the studio, Dale thought of his new love for the Beatles. He thought of his fit of hysterics mixed with the Beatles’ warm-hearted laughter, but he didn’t think about his wedding ring. He realized that he had been wrong. His world could be changed. The Beatles changed his world, and although his life had revolved around making sure that others could hear them, he ended up hearing the Beatles the loudest. And that night, as the sun set, he finally listened.


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