John, Paul, George and Paddy. Just waiting on Ringo.

The plaque on Middle Abbey Street. I’m not at all modest about it.

I am practically the Fifth Beatle.

The plaque, now on the side of Arnott’s in Dublin’s Middle Abbey Street commemorating their Dublin gigs in 1963…

I organised that. And I’m not afraid to boast about it.

Anyway, I mentioned John Lennon a few days ago because I was chuffed to discover that I was staying in the hotel he called home for a few days.

Ok. That was 51 years ago.

But I was still pleased. 

Because I once slept in the same bed as Paul McCartney. 

So that means I now have a connection with three of the four Beatles!

Paul wasn’t in the bed at the time of course.

But it WAS the bed he and Heather Mills shared during their stay at Castle Leslie before their not very secret wedding there. And that’s “shared” in my book.

And of course George and I go back a long way. To 1972 as it happens.

Back then, the word Apple meant The Beatles. It was the business side of their lives. And it was headquartered at Saville Row in London.

Despite the band having broken up a few years previously – they played their last gig on the roof of the Apple building – they still had connections with the company.

So me and my mate Brendan (I think it was he but remember, it was 1972 and, well, some memories are a little hazy) called in to visit.

We sat in reception for a little while and eventually a receptionist asked if she could help us.

There was no security, no minders – nothing!

I told her we were there to meet a Beatle. Which one? she asked. I said it didn’t matter.

She laughed. “They don’t come in here every day,” she said. “They hardly ever do.”

But she let us stay and I think offered coffee.

An hour passed. We didn’t budge.

Then I saw someone coming through the front entrance. It looked like George.

It WAS George.

I jumped up, stretched out a hand, shook George’s and said: “George, Paddy Murray. From Dublin. This is my friend Brendan.”

I don’t think was actually frightened. Confused maybe.

But he smiled, said hello and went on his way.

I doubt it ever crossed his mind again.

But me?

As far as I was concerned I had just met a Beatle!

A real life Beatle.

We’re almost besties, close pals, whatever..


I stayed in the same hotel as John.

I slept in the same bed as Paul.

I MET George.

You know what’s coming next..,

Ringo?!?!…give us a shout will you?

Hope he does.

Sure we’re practically related! 

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