Letters from Quotidia 2026 Weekend Supplement 16

Welcome to Letters from Quotidia 2026 Weekend Supplement 16. This is a notable occasion- to me, anyway. It marks the 300^th Letter from Quotidia. As usual, I discovered this by chance- I had flubbed the numbering of the Letters in my documentation- not that anyone else would have noticed because of the shifting nomenclature adopted by me over the roll out of the posts during the past few years.

If I had a cake and candles and the inclination, I would mark the occasion more tangibly, but this reference will have to do. Now to matters more consequential. Over the course of the Letters I have covered quite a few songs remaining nonchalant as to whether I had the chops and vocal capacity to cope with the task at hand. But one group remained off-limits: The Beatles.

In the summer of 1963 my brother, Brendan, visited us in Aruba clutching the Beatles first LP, Please, Please Me. It was a revelation- expat Brits found excuses to come round to welcome Brendan to Aruba, but really it was just to hear the LP which they had heard about from relatives in Blighty in the months since its release. Thirteen-year-old me, of course, basked in the reflected glory.

Sixty-three year later, when I’m at St Marys Leagues Club in western Sydney, the dance floor fills whenever a band plays McCartney’s composition, I Saw Her Standing There, which is better known by its opening words- She Was Just Seventeen! This is the track that opens that epoch-shaping LP. The closing track, Twist and Shout, with John Lennon hoarsely rasping the lyrics, also has the ability to attract dancers of all ages to the floor.

The reason Lennon was hoarse was that it was the end of a gruelling day’s recording where The Beatles set down fourteen songs for George Martin. One day. One album. One phenomenal group. And they have formed a significant part of my personal playlist from that time. Oscar Wilde tells us that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I have paid McCartney this compliment by writing a response based on his song, When I’m 64, twelve years ago when I turned that age. In the Letters from Quotidia posted on 20^th July 2021 and reposted on 15th July 2025 you may hear this homage.

But as for covering an actual Beatles song? Well, not until now. As usual, a confluence of factors influenced the decision. First, the song I have been dithering about covering is, Let It Be, which features a special woman named Mary. Second, I have written a song about three women named Mary which can be heard as the second song of the podcast. Last, it is- sort of- a special occasion: the 300^th Letter, so maybe I get a dispensation? My version is simple- no harmonies, chorusing, soloing, elaborate arrangements or vocal excellence like Paul’s. Just straight. [insert song]

The Letters from Quotidia have had a few false endings- like one of those Beethoven symphonies. And is this another? The project was originally slated to run for 30 weeks in 2021 totalling 150 posts. And here we are nearly five years later with 300 of the things!

Twenty years ago I sat around a backyard fire with a friend, and we were talking about how little we knew about our forebears. I knew details about my grandparents and even a few about great-grandparents but the rest was a blank. My nephew, the family historian, had discovered that my great-uncle had fought and died with Australian forces on the Western Front in 1917.

That got me thinking that maybe I should jot some stuff down about the themes and preoccupations of my life just in case a future family historian might want to delve into what it was we were all about. So, the Letters are, in fact, the culmination of that process. In advance then, let’s set out a few words about Quentin Bega as might be intoned over the casket before it is lowered into the burial ground or trundled into the flames of the crematorium.

Yeah, Quentin was a modest man with, frankly, a lot to be modest about. He lived and died in well-deserved obscurity. Not that he would have minded in the least. By the time eternity was ready to embrace him the flames of youthful ambition had well and truly burned out. He asks that we retire quickly to a place of hospitality and share a meal, a few laughs, and a drink or two in his memory. Vale.

I note that he still has a gigabyte of storage left in his podcast account so don’t be surprised if there is the occasional, the sporadic, dropping of yet another Letter from Quotidia. On the front page of his blog he noted that he was born in the middle of the last century and then stumbled into the present one with something more to say and sing about. So what does he have to say and sing about, in the final original composition?

There’s a fine old Scottish folk song called The Four Marys which details what happened to the four ladies-in-waiting to Mary, Queen of Scots. My song has one fewer Mary, and my point of reference is John ch.19: v.25. Although the Catholic Church is heavily patriarchal, there is no doubt in my mind that women have sustained it down the ages.

In John we read of three women named Mary at the foot of the Cross. The first verse of my song is about Mary of Clopas, who may be related to the mother of Jesus. The second verse features Mary Magdalene, whose name was probably blackened in history by men jealous of her closeness to Jesus. The third Mary is the Mother of God. [insert song] When I looked at my documentation, I noticed that this is my 200^th original composition! A hint that this just might be an appropriate terminus for the Letters.

Let It Be ( The Beatles Words and Music Paul McCartney)

C G Am Am7 Fmaj7 F6

When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me