Three Chairs On A Porch: Two Rock Stars & A Roadie

Welcome back to another edition of Maine’s fasting growing talk show, “Three Chairs On A Porch”.  As always, I’m joined on the front porch of The House on the Hill by two celebrities, who have a vague (often witty) connection.  They then get to ask each other one question while I just sit there and listen in on the conversation.

Today, I am joined by Beetlejuice and one of everyone’s favorite Beatles, Ringo Starr!

My guests had never met, so I allowed them a couple of minutes of small talk while I enjoyed a Snapple.  Once that was done, Beetlejuice chose the seat to my left, while Ringo parked it in the seat to my right.

The envelopes under the seats (a new innovation by the interns) revealed that the person to my right got to ask the first question, so Ringo the honor is yours.  Drum roll please…

“Right then, mate,” Ringo began in that odd little accent of his.  “I was going to ask a question about how you deal with the trappings of fame, but I thought that would be too on the nose.  Can I get a rim shot?”

Ringo pointed to his huge honker and Beetlejuice laughed a little too enthusiastically.  I just took a deep breath and hoped Ringo was done with the one-liners.

“Instead, I’ll hit you with: Does it ever get to be a total drag having people summon ya just by saying your name three times?”

“It’s cheaper than a cell phone, Ringo baby!” Beetlejuice answered excitedly.  “Hey, it’s not like I’ve got anything better to do, you know?  Being dead sucks.  There.  I’ve said it.  Hope that’s not too racy for your blog, Toga Boy.  Toga! Toga!  Toga!  Damn…I was sure that was going to summon John Belushi’s ghost!”

Let me interject that Ringo was doubled over with laughter, red in the face, and clapping with delight.  Beetlejuice was just feeding off of the little drummer boy’s love.

“Seriously, though, Ringo-Dingo, I love getting the call,” Beetlejuic continued with even more energy behind every word.  “I’m like a relief pitcher going nutso out in the bullpen waiting for the manager to put me into the game.  I’m praying for those three beautiful words.  I love to hear my name.  I’m needy.  I’m neurotic.  I’m a sharp dresser.  I make balloon animals.  I am available for kids’ parties, but I also wouldn’t mind a little quality one on one time with a sexy broad if you catch my drift.”

He then stood up and took a bow, which is the only way Ringo and I had any idea he was finally done answering his question.  Then he sat down and pushed my chair back for a better view of Ringo.  Ringo waved to him.

“Ringo.  Ringo.  Ringo.   Holy crap, it worked!  You appeared.  Does that make us soul mates?”

Ringo nodded and laughed.  I drained my Snapple and wished I had something a little stronger.

“My question is probably quite obvious, but I’m going to ask it anyway,” he tried to act all serious.  “Does this suit I’m wearing make me look like Robin Thicke from the night of Miley Cyrus’ twerking seizure?”

Beetlejuice got up and did a twirl to show off his white and black striped suit (see the above photo) and then started twerking.  Ringo egged him on by drumming out a beat on the porch railing.   At this point, a small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk in front of The House on the Hill, and the interns were having difficulty keeping them calm.  My guests were out of control.

I stood up, gave Beetlejuice an icy glare, and asked him if he would like to pose his question to Ringo.  He clearly wanted to mouth off, but he looked at me being all intimidating in my toga, and thought the better of it.

“My question is simple…will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m sixty-four?”

Ringo lost it.  The crowd cheered.  Next thing I knew, Beetlejuice and Ringo were leading a sing a long on my porch.  After “When I’m 64”, they broke into “I Saw Her Standing There”, which is probably my favorite song by The Beatles.  I gave in and joined them.

We sang for about half an hour until the police finally came to break it up.  The crowd reluctantly went home, but I could see from the looks on their faces that as soon as they got out of the view of the cops, they’d be yelling out a certain name three times.

Best “Three Chairs On A Porch” yet!