My Dad hated everything about the Beatles, their music, the lyrics, and especially their hair. He would take my sister and I to the mall to buy 45 rpm records about once a month. He wouldn’t let us buy any by this group. My mother had a way of bullying my Dad into doing what she wanted, and what she wanted was to make my sister happy. So finally he gave in and let her buy a couple of them.
The year was 1964, and the Beatles first movie had just come out. In July that year the movie, “A Hard Days Night” featuring the Beatles, began showing at the Drive-in. My sister really wanted to go see it, so after a couple of weeks my Dad surrendered to her wishes and said we could go. I really didn’t like the Beatles, but I loved going to the drive-in. We would take sodas, pop popcorn and buy candy to snack on. We would also bring two foldable lawn chairs for my parents and pillows for my sister and I to lean back on while sitting on the hood of the car.
It was a Friday night, and we were getting things ready to go. I helped carry everything out to the car, placing it all in the trunk. I hate waiting, even as a young child, so I stayed by the car, hoping everyone else would hurry. It was starting to get dark out. As soon as I saw my sister come through the back door I opened the back car door and jumped in! My sister got in the other side and then my parents opened the front doors. When they did, the dome light came on up on the roof. It was then that I happened to look at the floorboard. There between my feet was the largest tarantula I had ever seen!
I jumped out of the car, screaming to the top of my lungs. My Dad rushed around and used his handkerchief to scoop up the intruder. I was hysterical and I refused to get back in the car. After about 5 minutes of stern talking, my mother and sister “convinced” me to get back into the car, and we went to the movies. I spent the entire night checking every corner of the inside and outside of the car to see if there were more “spiders” hiding somewhere. I had a miserable time.
Here it is, 56 years later, and I am still scared of spiders. It doesn’t matter how small they are, if I start screaming my husband comes running to kill the dreaded monster! I blame the Beatles for my fear of arachnids on that first Hard Days Night’s!