I will never forget the morning of December 9, 1980. The
day before, my younger brother Micah had turned six. I trudged
downstairs half asleep and dragged myself to the kitchen table
where my Tri-Vi-Flor Vitamin C tablet awaited me.
The radio was on and for a moment I wasn’t sure what I had
heard. For a moment I thought it was Jack Lemmon who had been shot.
My mother corrected me but I still didn’t hear it right. “John
Lemon?” I innocently asked. “No,” my mother snapped, “John
Lennon!!!”
Then it hit me. Hard!!!
Even though The Beatles had broken up two years before I
was born I was well aware of their music. My father frequently
played Abbey Road on
our stereo. Dad would also occasionally play Lennon’s Rock n’
Roll album. I remember him being partial to Lennon’s version
of Gene Vincent’s “Be-Bop-A-Lula.” A
month earlier, Lennon and Yoko Ono had released the Double
Fantasy album. While we did not have that album I do remember
“(Just Like)
Starting Over” being played regularly on the radio.
And then John Lennon was dead at the age of forty. Not
only was he gone but he had been brutally murdered outside his
apartment building by a deranged fan. It just didn’t make
sense. It still doesn’t.
When I arrived at school, I saw a girl who lived down the
street from us leaning up against the wall. She was holding a
portable cassette player to her ear listening to a Beatles song
with the saddest look on her face. It was the one day at school
where the teachers wanted to do school work even less than the
students. They were as dazed and dumbfounded as the rest of
us.
The radio was still on when I returned home. By now,
however, the only thing that could be heard was a barrage of
Beatles songs and Lennon solo material. It was as if the entire
world had paused to remember John Lennon.
After supper that evening, Dad lit a candle in Lennon’s
memory as his mother had done for John F. Kennedy seventeen years
earlier. Normally such an honor would be reserved for a Jew. But as
far as Dad was concerned, John Lennon was one of us.
In the months that followed, I spent a lot of time drawing
pictures of Lennon as he had appeared on the cover of Abbey
Road with long hair, beard, granny glasses and the white suit.
They weren’t very good. I doubt if any of those drawings survive.
Drawing came far more naturally to Micah and he could do things on
paper I could never contemplate. Nevertheless, it was the only time
in my life I made any kind of serious effort to exercise my
creativity through drawing and it was inspired entirely by
Lennon.
As such I cannot think of Micah’s birthday without
thinking of Lennon’s assassination. I don’t know what thought, if
any, he gives to Lennon when his birthday comes around. But in his
early teens Micah would start taking guitar lessons. However, those
lessons didn’t last long. He was more interested in learning
Beatles songs which he taught himself to play. Before you knew it
he was playing in bands with high school friends who also loved to
play Beatles songs. About a decade later, he spent a couple of
years playing bass with the Canadian indie band
The Golden Dogs. I remember buying their debut CD in Sam The
Record Man on Yonge Street in Toronto. I cannot tell what a thrill
it was to go to a record store and buy a CD on which my brother
played. I strongly suspect this would not have to come to pass
without the Beatles and Lennon in particular. I can even hear
Lennon in his voice.
Naturally, I think about what life would be like if John
Lennon were still alive. I’m sure Lennon’s politics would not have
changed. I’m sure Lennon would have been leading voice against the
War in Iraq. I’m sure Lennon would have some choice words for
President Bush. I’m sure I would have been annoyed at Lennon as I
would have been at the long line of celebrities critical of both
Bush and the Iraq War.
But I would have taken it. I would have taken it because
I’m also sure Lennon would have had a lot more music to make. Some
of that music would have great and some of it perhaps not so great.
But it would have been ours for the listening. I’m sure I would
have had the chance to see him in concert as I have seen Paul
McCartney in concert (twice). And a splendid time would have been
guaranteed for all. I’m also sure that John would have eventually
agreed to come together with Paul, George, and Ringo. It certainly
would have made for a more meaningful Beatles
reunion.
My parents are now retired and presently spending the
winter in New York City on the Upper West Side a short distance
from the Dakota on Central Park West and 72nd Street. If Lennon
were still alive it is not inconceivable my parents might have
bumped into John & Yoko while walking in Central Park. I’m sure
that Dad in his typical Bronx bravado would have had something
clever to say and the Liverpudlian Lennon would have been equal to
the task. I’m sure my mother and Yoko would have looked each other
as if to say they couldn’t take their husbands
anywhere.
So if John Lennon were alive, well and living in New York
City I would happily put up with his political ranting if it meant
more music and memories. But alas I can only imagine.
