. With the recent re- release of the Beatles’ 1964 kaleidoscope movie, “ A Hard Days Night” on its 50th Anniversary ( gulp!) via DVD and Bluray, I am being hesitatingly catapulted back in time to those brutal, personality crushing years of my teenage youth when some of us less fortunate teens suffered from acne. It was a most debilitating time.
Bright, red and bruised pimples would suddenly pop up overnight on your face. You know the face, the thing we all look at; the frame in which our eyes, nose, mouth, cheeks and chin reside. The first impression for anything human. The face... And if you are a teenage prone to such an affliction, the morning face message was a very real horror trip.
First thing you do before getting out of bed is to lay still and with your fingertips you walk the fingers over your face. Feeling for the tell tale sign of a potential pimple. And most mornings you find one. Your face is already a farm for pimples.
A gruesome crop of one of nature’s most hideous blunders. You already know your pimple inventory. You know where every pimple is. Every one. And invariably your feel one in its infancy. Not yet protruding above the skin line, but a small burning stamp of a pimple in the making. . And like a slow deliberate PBS science program you know you will watch and feel the life of a pimple. And damn it, you are powerless to prevent it. It will slowly ebb above the skin; push itself into its world and yours. And you have no control over its devastating impact. None. It will blossom so to speak into an in
intrusive, unwelcome interloper, like a brother in law who stays uninvited for a week or two
This mean-spirited facial partner will compete with your blues, your chiseled cheeks for attention. And it always wins... The first person to step up and greet you is immediately drawn to the thing. In the early to mid 60’s when I was a teenager there was little medical help in controlling acne. Oh there were at least three top products out there. Clearasil - I can smell the pasty ointment as it oozed out of its tube. You would spread it on your face usually at nighttime. It had a musty almost mush roomy smell and did very little to clear up the skin. Then there was Phisohex in a tall blue plastic bottle. This was a white creamy facial wash, that supposedly cleared the skin of grime and grease which in turn was thought to contribute to acne. Finally there was Stridex Acne pads, small round pads about 2” in diameter packed in a small round glass container that were seeped in an acne fighting concoction of chemicals. Not much help either.
Back in the 60’s it was medical belief that since acne primarily affected teenagers, one should look to teenagers and their lifestyles to find the cause. Facial cleansing and hygiene? Well Phisohex and Stridex pads should have been the cure-all. There must be a hidden trigger… ah ha! it must be the diet of teenagers. You know, greasy potato chips, French fries, and well just about anything the teenager consumed must contribute to acne. And so ring dings were out, so was fried food stuff, no fried eggs, no butter … but of course yanking these great foods stuff out of ones diet didn’t really stop the infestation.
Science and medical advances were what would ultimately cure and stop this youthful plague. Drugs like erythromycin, adapalene, doxycycline and isotretinoin weren’t even in a dermatologist’s dictionary in the mid 60’s.
The Beatles’ movie “A Hard Day’s Night” 50th anniversary edition should emit motions of joy and remembrance for someone of my generation. And guess what, upon hearing that distinct resonating opening chord of the title song, “A Hard Days Night”, all is forgotten and forgiven. As it should be. After all I can’t buy me love.
