BEING RINGO: A BEATLE's ALL-STARR LIFE

There are some things Ringo believes. "If you are on a desert island and you have coconuts, you can survive." There are some things Ringo can't answer. Was "Taxman" recorded on four-track or eight-track? "Ask someone who knows. I only know I'm on it." There are times when Ringo can be quite acerbic. "I was having dinner with him recently in L.A. with Dave Grohl and our wives," says Paul McCartney. "I know Ringo has been sober for years, so I joked, 'C'mon, Ringo, have a whiskey.' Ringo looked at me for a second and says, 'What, and end up looking like you?' I deserved it."

And then there are things Ringo Starr wants to make absolutely clear. He is dressed all in black and turns his sunglasses toward the sun. He speaks slowly in his Beverly Hills-via-Liverpool Postal District 8 accent.

"You know my real name isn't Ringo, right?"

His real name is Richard Starkey. His wife calls him Ritchie. He's 74. He is one of rock's greatest drummers, and — even if he doesn't have the songwriting gifts of the other Beatles — he is one of the finest entertainers in the history of Western civilization.

Think about it. If you're between 20 and 80 and someone mentions Ringo, what do you do? If you're not Hitler, you start smiling. If you're 67, you remember the nose and bouncing hair at Shea. If you're in your thirties, you think of the little man narrating Shining Time Station when you were eight. And if you were ever a parent, you thank Ringo for the three minutes of serenity "Yellow Submarine" brings to every truculent four-year-old. He can work high — backbeating for John, Paul and George. He can work low — Wednesday night for the senior crowd in Fort Pierce, Florida, high-hatting Toto's "Rosanna" at the Sunrise Theatre.

Ringo will bring his road show to Cleveland on April 18th for a different kind of event when he's inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as a solo artist. McCartney will give the speech. There will be the usual hosannas, but probably not a lot of talk of Ringo as a tortured artist. That's not Ringo, not the tortured part, even if he has survived alcoholism, growing up without a father or a toilet, and spending two years in a sanitarium with tuberculosis. "I always thought I had a great childhood," says Ringo with a laugh, as he talks about his mum taking two buses and a ferry across the Mersey to visit him once a week. .....

READ MORE ... HERE.