The Movement He Needed...

A lyric pops into my head. "The movement you need is on your shoulder." Where's that from? Not from Mozart, that's for sure. I rack my brain. I should know this. I DO know this. Blame it on the alcohol. In moderation, it's good for the heart but maybe not so good for the brain cells. I bear down and focus. Damn it, it's right there, on the tip of my brain's hippocampus. Slowly, it's coming. Ah, there it is, from The Beatles, of course: Hey Jude. The song sat atop the pop charts when I was still in diapers. No matter, it speaks to me. The song prevails upon someone to let her into your heart and under your skin, someone who would make their world a little colder by not pursuing what he wants. Well, she's in my heart and under my skin; and what's more, I intend to keep her there. My world would grow dark and cold without her.

I'll call her. No, on second thought, I'll drop in on her. One doesn't do these things over the phone. I throw on a pair of old jeans and a light jacket over my T-shirt, hop in my Audi and drive through the night. It's not far, less than ten miles from that cute little Cape Code house of hers, a "starter" home she once called it.

"It's me," I say when she responds to my knock from behind the door. She's in panties and bra. Her hair hangs over one eye, sexy as all get out. "Wow!"

She chuckles. "If you're horny, you've come to the right place," she says. "Cause you know I am. It's been a few days, you know."

"That's great, but it's not the reason for my visit. It's about what we discussed on the trail."

Suddenly, her beautiful emerald eyes look sad. She expects bad news. "Kirk, I don't want to hear that you've decided to break up with me. Because if that's your mission, then—"

I grasp her shoulders. "Listen to me! I'm trying to tell you that my world would grow dark and cold without you."

She exhales. "Okay, mine would, too."

"Right. Which is why if you want kids with me, I'm okay with it."

She stands there as if in shock. Her mouth hangs open, she shakes her head. "If I'm dreaming, don't wake me up." I begin to say something. Then, before I can even get the words out, she falls into my arms, crying tears of joy. She looks up and wipes her eyes. "You really are?"

"Yes, and you can thank Paul McCartney and John Lennon. Paul wrote that line in Hey Jude, 'the movement you need is on your shoulder.' Paul once told an interviewer that he thought of dropping it until John stepped in and persuaded him not to."

She laughs, still wiping her eyes. "I guess I owe Paul a big thanks. Too bad John's not still around."

Per my suggestion, she posts it on a Beatles fan Facebook page. We both know that it took more than simply a line in a Beatles song to change my mind. Still, I enjoy telling friends that Paul's words were the catalyst. Even Chrissie, still not fully onboard with my decision, laughs when I tell her.

Over the ensuing months, our bond grows stronger. Shortly after turning fifty-one, I perform the time honored ritual of dropping to one knee. A few close friends and family attend our small wedding. Despite their reservations, Chrissie and her parents attend. In fact, as a wedding gift, Chrissie gives us a 45 rpm pressing of Hey Jude. Cute, I think—and definitely appropriate.