When asked if Ringo Starr was the best drummer in the world, John Lennon quipped that: “He's not even the best drummer in the Beatles!” Many, not for the first time, misread Lennon's impish wit for a sage judgement on the unassuming musician who did as much as any of the Fab Four to make the Beatles the most hummed rock'n'roll band ever. Lennon later amended the record by saying “Ringo's a damn good drummer.” Sir Paul McCartney told Ringo: “You are the greatest drummer in the world.” This paean came in a postcard sent to Ringo the day after the Beatles performed on the roof of Apple's Savile Row offices in 1969.

Last night Ringo was on a rooftop again. He was performing on the roof of St George's Hall in Liverpool to launch the city's year as the Capital of Culture. There could be no fitter ambassador for a city that was made famous from Calcutta to Kowloon by the Beatles (all due respects to Bill Shankly and his Liverpool football team).

Ringo represents all that is great about Liverpool: a vibrant spirit, puckish humour, a modest profile that belies a glorious history and an unconventional grace that the French term jolie laide. The Beatles stand among Britain's greatest gifts to the world, alongside parliamentary democracy, railways and never inflicting on cinemagoers an actor as implausible as Sylvester Stallone.

In addition to inspiring two generations of drummers who understood that his deceptively spare style was as pathbreaking as Hemingway's deceptively spare prose, Ringo capped his Beatles career by injecting some vim into the travels of Thomas the Tank Engine, and by never doing anything embarrassing. Given that Paul McCartney has been knighted - let alone Cliff Richard - it is surely preposterous that this national treasure lacks a similar honour.

The Times has submitted an online petition to Downing Street to remedy this oversight. Last night Ringo Starr was drumming from the rooftops of Liverpool. This morning we should be singing from the rooftops: “Arise, Sir Ringo.”