December 8, 2005 | Remembering
This morning Bob Stroud, DJ on the Drive radio station in Chicago, reminded me today is the 25th anniversary of the death of John Lennon. In commemoration of an innovative musician, I dug out his old LPs and turntable, and then cranked up the volume to sit back and remember.
As a teenager I liked the Beatles, particularly George, but never went into screaming fits when they performed and really could never understand the girls who did. It wasn’t until I was older that John Lennon’s talent for writing unique and stirring lyrics really moved me. My mother hated him. She often said he was an incarnation of the devil with a cult following. I never agreed. Although his lifestyle would never have suited me and his politics were a bit startling, the man sure knew how to bring notes and lyrics together. No one will ever be able to take that away from him.
I followed his career with interest and found I’d learned something from each of his songs. He was a sensitive man who gave our world a new perspective of itself.
My favorite album was and still is Shaved Fish. It was a musical announcement of the transition his life was making under the influence of Yoko Ono.
His last album, Double Fantasy, was released only three weeks before his death and still sells well after all this time. There’s a beautiful photo of John and Yoko on the cover looking respectable and very much in love. Each of the fourteen songs carries a theme of love and hope which make me smile sadly that we will never hear another new recording form a man who celebrated life in all its facets.
Long may his music play.
Sloane
I have never understood the screaming fans of any group, let alone one like the Beatles. Many years ago I went to a Neil Diamond concert. Had floor seats, which I thought, this being my very first live concert, were great seats.
Not.
I’m 5’4″. Every time everyone in front of me stood up, I couldn’t see. So I’d stand up. Still couldn’t see. Most people are taller than 5’4″. Then they’re all singing along and clapping and yelling and screaming. I just wanted to stand on the chair and yell, “Would you shut the hell up? I’m trying to listen, here!”
Now I’m much more likely to go to hear someone where all that carrying on isn’t going to happen. I bet not many people were singing along with Andrea Boccelli. Which may explain why he sang in Italian. 🙂
On December 8th, 2005 at 4:55 pmI sympathize with you but at 5’8” I don’t have the same problem and the only other concert I ever went to was the Beach Boys. Damn, I’ve led a sheltered life
However, the Bocelli concert didn’t go as you would expect. Toward the end of the second half I finally leaned over to Studley and said in a not too quiet voice, “If I got in a fight with the loud mouth flat singing bitch behind us would you get mad?” All he could do was laugh and she finally shut up.
Okay, okay, so I really am short on class.
On December 8th, 2005 at 6:01 pmBut long on spunk!!!
You go, girl.
On December 9th, 2005 at 1:17 am