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We took them for granted for too many years.

That’s my personal theory about what’s happening now as the world starts watching the unique three-part “Get Back” documentary on the Disney + streaming service. The mini-series marks the first time we’ll get an intimate peek inside one of the last rehearsing/recording sessions The Beatles conducted, this one in January 1969. The video and transcripts of the sessions have been hidden away in vaults for over a half century. Noted director Peter Jackson spent several years parsing the material and finally assembled the show we began viewing Thanksgiving night.

Like many baby boomers I was a fervent early fan of those four Liverpool lads who swept England first in 1963, then the U.S., then the world with a brand of music that could not be ignored. It was impossible to listen to the radio back then without hearing one of The Beatles catchy chart-topping hits. The band stopped performing live in 1966, which accelerated their efforts in the studio as they produced masterpiece after masterpiece during the next three years. And then, horror of horrors, they broke up between the fall of 1969 and early 1970, each moving on to successful solo careers. I listened to the solo music by Paul McCartney and the others—and loved it. But I lost interest in The Beatles as an entity.

I was growing up, and my taste in music was changing as I entered college. I anticipated a “next best thing” in rock and roll to fill the gap left by John, Paul, George, and Ringo. Sure, there was my beloved Bruce Springsteen and his talented band of scrappy musicians who emerged from the Jersey Shore. Over the years I saw The Boss and his band(s) at least 10 times in person. I journeyed with my wife to see his one-man show on Broadway. But did the rocker from Freehold, New Jersey, change the music world like The Beatles did? I was never certain. So, I kept waiting. And waiting.

The gap created by the Fab Four remained unfilled.

My interest in the Fab Four resumes

All of that began to change in 2001 when a friend from Boston gave me a CD of The Beatles “One” album. Joe told me every middle-aged baby boomer should have a copy. Listening to the collection of 27 number one songs over the next few years, I began to accept that my post-Beatles “next best thing” would never arrive and I should resume my love affair with the group. Whether it was the masterful piccolo trumpet on “Penny Lane” or my sudden recognition of the guitar mastery of George Harrison, I concluded that I would no longer take them for granted.

What followed was a roaring resumption of my adoration of this once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon. I bought new digital copies of their albums. I listened to remastered versions of their music, searching for instrumental sections or words I hadn’t heard before. Family and friends bought me Beatles-themed gifts. I bought books about the band and their music. I plumbed their lyrics for more meaning. I re-engaged on the topic with three Boston-area friends who had never stopped loving the group. They educated me. I pressed for even more information. I re-watched their first movie, “Hard Days Night,” which I had only seen once before: at the theater with my family in 1965.

This hunger, this zeal to learn more, reached a fever peak in 2016. My three Boston-area friends invited me along on a 10-day guided tour of Beatles sites in London and Liverpool during the annual international Beatles Festival. It was pure gold for a newly reborn fan. On our visit to Abbey Road Studios in London Joe, Phil, Ed, and I recreated and photographed our own album cover walk across the street. We talked to people on London roads who had met members of the group while filming “Hard Days Night.” One older woman told me how she re-hemmed John Lennon’s pants during scenes. We stood outside Twickenham Studios, where much of the rehearsals filmed for the Jackson documentary took place. We wandered by the old Saville Row headquarters for the Beatles recording company Apple Corps.

Finding the root of The Beatles genius in Liverpool

But Liverpool turned out to be the real treat. We toured Lennon’s well-preserved childhood home on Menlove Avenue, stopping to sing an a cappella version of a Beatles tune in the vestibule. We sat in the living room of McCartney’s first home on Forthlin Road, soaking in the setting that gave rise to so much legendary music. We spent hours listening to Beatles cover bands in the legendary underground Cavern Club.

While the five days we spent in Liverpool were filled with historical treats, my favorite stop remains the tiny first club where some of the original Beatles first played before appearing at The Cavern. Liverpool resident Mona Best in 1959 converted part of the basement of her large Hayman’s Green home into a members-only club where her son, a drummer named Pete, could play music with his friends. She called it The Casbah Club. Among the friends who jammed with Pete was a group called The Quarrymen, which included Paul, John, and George.

We spent an evening in the Casbah near the end of our trip, listening to cover groups and Pete Best’s band. Pete started his professional music career as The Beatles drummer. We reveled in seeing one of the original Beatles play, later meeting Pete and talking with the man who is a walking answer to the trivia question: Who was the original Beatles drummer before Ringo Starr? It’s one of the saddest chapters in rock history, but we weren’t brave enough to ask him how he felt about his dismissal over a half century ago. He was still a good drummer. Our evening in the cramped, claustrophobic, steamy underground club was a memory that will last forever.

Today

Today I continue to enjoy Beatles music more than I ever did. I especially love talking to fellow fans of the group. I even have a friend who actually saw The Beatles perform in 1966 in Boston. I did see two Beatles perform “live” over the years: Paul in Fenway Park, and Ringo with his band of rock all-stars at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center. I try to play some of their easier tunes during my struggles with the acoustic guitar.

I still think about the years I missed reading about the original group and listening to their music. I’ll more than make up for it in the coming years. And I think a lot about what Beatles music means to me and my friends. One friend, Andrew, says it best: Their original music fills him with joy like nothing else in the world of music, he says, and he will never stop listening. Well said.

(Next post: some thoughts on the Jackson documentary.)