“Okay, go.”

I started to play my guitar, playing the familiar song I had just spent days perfecting. I took a deep breath and sang into the microphone.

I want a love that’s right and right is only half of what’s wrong.

I want a short-haired girl who sometimes wears it twice as long.

Now I’m stepping out this old brown shoe,

Baby, I’m in love with you.

I’m so glad you came here, it won’t be the same now I’m telling you.

You know you pick me up from where some try to drag me down.

And when I see your smile, replacing every thoughtless frown.

Got me escaping from this zoo, baby I’m in love with you.

I’m so glad you came here, it won’t be the same now I’m telling you.

If I grow up I’ll be a singer, wearing rings on every finger,

Not worrying what they or you say, I’ll live and love and maybe someday

Who knows baby you may comfort me.

I busted out the most freakin’ awesome guitar solo, or how they would say it, gear.

I may appear to be imperfect, my love is something you can’t reject.

I’m changing faster than the weather, if you and me should get together

Who knows baby you may comfort me.

That love of yours to miss that love is something I’d hate.

I’ll make an early start, I’m making sure that I’m not late.

For your sweet top lip I’m in the queue,

Baby I’m in love with you.

I’m so glad you came here, it won’t be the same now I’m telling you.

I’m so glad you came here, it won’t be the same now I’m telling you.

“And…cut! Great. Best take yet. We’ll use it for the CD,” said Julie, pressing the stop button on her home recording studio, “It sounded like the real thing.”

“Come on,” I said, “It can’t be that great.”

Julie played it back. “The guitar lessons paid off,” I said. “No, the voice, Taylor, the voice!” exclaimed Victoria as she started to burn the CD, “It sounds just like him.” Of course it does, I spent seven years working on it.

“I think I have a chance,” I said, unplugging my guitar from the amp.

“No, you don’t,” replied Victoria, always the realist, except when it came to her taste in books (Harry Potter).

“Victoria,” I said, “I begged my dad for guitar lessons and had to pay for them myself, I watched the concert videos to study his techniques, I listened to his voice, and spent hours rehearsing it, developing a second voice, and I grew calluses on my hands. You think I don’t have a chance?”

“The thing is, Taylor,” said Victoria, “You can’t be a Beatles impersonator because, well, you’re a girl!”

“So, I have about a good as chance as any guy! I have been practicing since I was fifteen!”

“Why do you want to do this, again?” asked Julie.

“It came to me in a vision,” I said over-dramatically, “A man on a flaming pie told me I will be George Harrison impersonator!”

Julie and Victoria stared, blinking at me. Victoria was into the Monkees and Julie was a country fan.

“It’s a Beatles reference. John Lennon had a vision with a man on a flaming pie that told him that from now on he would spell The Beatles wit an e and an a instead of two e’s.”

“Okay,” said Julie, “We get the obscure reference. Why do you really want to do this?”

“It’s been an aspiration. I’m finally out of college, and I just want to start doing things my way before I get too old and have to get a real job.”

“The thing is, though, most Beatle impersonators are men.”

            “So, it’s time to break the barrier!”