Posts Tagged ‘John Lennon’

I’m Losing You

Thursday, December 8th, 2011

Once again, not much happened today and it was good. It’s been a day off today and I really don’t have much to write about and since today is the dreadful anniversary of John Lennon’s murder I thought I would republish an entry from 5 6 years ago. It’s a little all over the place but it is from the heart.

Old Dirt Road
Thursday, December 8th, 2005

I used to belong to a bowling league in 1980. Monday nights I’d bowl with the Harcourt Brace Jovanovich teams. I surprisingly was the captain of one. I had my own ball, shoes, and bag. The whole kit and kaboodle, wrist guard etc. I was all pretty much straight edge, didn’t drink, didn’t smoke weed. Smoked the butts though, but 25 years ago, a lot of other people did too.

I think I had a bowling average of about 142. That decreased when I started drinking and drugging. The fun increased, the sportsmanship didn’t. But that was a year or so later. I had some pretty good friends on the scene, Bill Wrice, Derry Pedovitch, John Carroll, Ida Sammartino. Ida was as old as my mother. This was her activity to get out of the house on her own. My mother did that at some point. I used to go with her and my brother, Brian on those Monday nights.

Mom and Brian eventually stopped bowling for HBJ. Mom stopped totally, and Brian bowled for the place where he was working then. I would play with various other kids while Mom and Brian bowled, that was around 1974. Elton was super big and John Lennon had a hit single with ‘Whatever Gets You Thru The Night’ featuring Elton on piano and vocals.

So 6 years later, I’m bowling at Parkway Lanes in Elmwood Park. My friend Derry and I had an extracurricular job with HBJ. We had to clear out a warehouse in Moonachie. When we were going back to Saddle Brook after a days clearing out, we had the radio on, and John Lennon’s first single in 5 years had just came out. Perry and I were big Beatle fans. He liked Paul, I leaned towards John. I liked the name. We were excited because we heard that Cheap Trick was backing him up on his new record and that would probably sound amazing.

What we heard was not Cheap Trick. Not much of an edge. I liked it, but most of the other music that I had been listening to was edgy, and I expected the edgy John Lennon of the Beatles. Or even of the 70’s. But it was a new decade, and he had a new voice and I loved him even more for it.

I grew up in a house of music. My parents and my brothers and sister all loved music. I credit Frank, Annemarie and Brian for turning me onto some really cool things that bring memories in a cascading wave. Frank and Annemarie were more aware of things when the Beatles conquered the States. Brian was seven, and I was two. I was preoccupied with shoving objects up my nose.

One of my earliest musical memories is of being freaked out by the ending of ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’. I remember Frank playing the single to me in his room and then when the psychedelic ending came up, he turned out the lights. Freaked me the fuck out.

Eventually the 1970’s happened. I was growing up and finding my own kind of music. Elton, Gilbert O’Sullivan, Dickie Goodman, Curtis Mayfield, Carly Simon. The Beatles were working into my DNA. I liked the solo stuff. Paul’s ‘Band on the Run’ was the first album I ever bought with my own money. Couldn’t wrap my head around John’s records, but I dug his singles. 1973 is summed up for me by George’s ‘Give Me Love’ and Ringo’s ‘You’re Sixteen’, being driven to Lodi Summer Recreation by Sharon Iwanicki in her orange Volkswagen beetle.

In 1976 my brother Frank told me he was going to take me to see the fireworks for the Fourth of July on the Hudson River. The original plan was for my father to take all of us to the World Trade Center and see them from his office, but he heard the city would be overrun with gangs from out of ‘The Warriors’ or ‘Escape from New York’, or worse yet, ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’.

So we celebrated the Bicentennial in Lodi. Frank and Elaine were going to Fort Lee. Turns out it was an adult party and I wasn’t allowed to go. So I went with Brian and his friend Eddie Austeri and tried watching the fireworks through the back window of Brian’s car on River Road in Cliffside Park. Not much to see there, move on.

The next day, Frank, (fried and hung over Frank), felt guilty and gave me a copy of ‘Abbey Road’. The doors were open again and I was enchanted. From ‘Come Together’ to ‘Her Majesty’ I was reborn as a Beatles fan. Both Frank and Annemarie had some records that they hadn’t played in a long time and I eventually incorporated into my record collection.

I started buying anything Beatles I could get my hands on that Frank and Annemarie didn’t have. I also found some old prints of the Beatles from 1964. My room was starting to become a shrine to the Fabs. I collected magazines, books, the solo records, posters. When I started working the collection of records, not just Beatles mind you, Punk and New Wave was coinciding.

Though I subscribed to the Punk ethos of everything old sucked, the Beatles were untouchable in that respect. John had retired by then though and after 1975 he took a well deserved break. I tried keeping in touch with him though.

For his Birthday, I’d send a card. Addressed as

John Lennon
New York City, N.Y.

And I’d always put a return address in the proper place so I would get it back if it wasn’t delivered. I never got any back. I would write and wish him a Happy Birthday or a Merry Christmas and let him know that if he was ever in Lodi, he could always stop by and hang out if he wanted to.

But I guess he was busy with the washing and the kid and all. He might have preferred Rochelle Park.

Derry and I eventually found out that it wasn’t Cheap Trick backing John on the single. We found out when we bought ‘Double Fantasy’. No mention of Rick Nielsen or Bun E. Carlos. I remember when I was shanghaied to the Mudd Club in November 1980 I heard the B-side to ‘Starting Over’, Yoko’s ‘Kiss Kiss Kiss’. So that’s where the edge was. In Yoko’s stuff. I never had a problem with Yoko. I saw her sing ‘Who Has Seen the Wind’ on the Mike Douglas Show and thought she was great.

I had gone to midnight showings of ‘Let It Be’ and whenever Yoko was on screen, people would hiss. I didn’t. I loved John and if he was happy with Yoko, then so was I. I was probably one of the dozens of people that played ‘Double Fantasy’ from start to finish. It was a good album, but nowhere near Talking Heads ‘Remain In Light’ or the B-52’s ‘Wild Planet’.

After bowling that Monday night in December, on my way home, I stopped off at the 711 and bought a copy of Playboy Magazine. Major interview with John and Yoko inside. I heard there were pictures of naked women in the magazine, but I don’t recall seeing any.

I got home and settled into my room while my parents were downstairs watching Monday Night Football.

I was laying on my bed, actually reading Playboy when my mother yelled upstairs, that Howard Cosell said that John Lennon was shot in New York. I figured, he had a gun and was cleaning it and shot himself in the foot. The Beatles still grabbed headlines, even caused Howard Cosell to say that John Lennon was shot cleaning his gun.

I didn’t really worry about it. I figured he lost his little piggy. I continued reading Playboy, reading John’s words.

My mother yelled upstairs a little while later. “Howard Cosell just said that John Lennon’s dead”. No way. Impossible. It’s not in my script. No, he’s going to live to be an old man. I will see him in concert. I will perhaps meet him. Perhaps he’ll show up in Lodi. Hey it could happen. Anything could happen. Anything but this.

This was wrong. I turned on the radio. Vin Scelsa was on, talking, and sounded like he was crying. What the fuck? People were calling in, crying. Beatles songs were playing. Lennon songs were playing. I sat next to the radio for a few hours waiting to hear that it was all a hoax. I was shaken, but still harbored the belief that it was for publicity.

Oh that crazy John and Yoko. What will they do next?

I woke up a few hours later and got ready for work. My mother listened to WNEW 1130AM. They played the songs she liked mainly, Sinatra, Mel Torme, Peggy Lee, Andy Williams. Today they were playing the Beatles. The newspapers were on the table, nasty headlines. John Lennon Shot. Pass the sugar.

I was gutted. Shock. I somehow got to work, but could barely function. I was driving a forklift then, picking orders. I preferred that to College. But I kept breaking down, having crying jags.

Little did I know that this would be the first of several truly horrible moments that would occur in my life.

I couldn’t stop crying. The dream of a Beatles reunion was dashed forever, but I just felt so bad for Yoko and Sean. A brutal murder on your own doorstep. I shut myself off from the world and just kept playing the Fabs and Lennon over and over.

A day or so later, my brother Frank was coming over for dinner. I heard him come in and started walking downstairs to see him. He looked up at me and asked how I was doing. Bam! Instant crying, all over again. My brother Brian had gotten quite tired of it and let into Frank for bringing up John Lennon’s death again. Like it was never going to be mentioned again.

The following Sunday, six days after John’s murder there was a vigil in Central Park by the band shell. Me and a few friends (Derry Pedovitch, Annie Carroll, Bill Wrice) caught the bus to the city and trekked up to the park. There were thousands of people. We walked by the Dakota and then into the park. There was a long moment of silence ended by the playing of ‘All You Need is Love’. Or maybe it was ‘Imagine’. I’m putting my money on the former.

The crowd dispersed, we straggled back to the Port Authority, to the bus and to our cars. I continued listening to Beatles/Lennon stuff for quite a few weeks.

In February 1981, Derry and I went to the Meadowlands Hilton for the Beatle-Fest. That was scary. Hundreds of people whose lives revolved around the Beatles. People that listen to the Beatles more than the Beatles did. “Let’s give a big cheer for John Lennon” Hurrah. Too corny for me. I, at least listened to other music. I loved the Beatles but I loved other things too. I think my grieving period ended that weekend.

I did become more active about Gun Control, and John’s message of love and peace is still needed today. I do miss John. I miss George too, and I miss a lot of people and I am grateful for the ones that are still here and aren’t hiding.

Give Peace a Chance

G’oo g’oo g’joob

I Can’t Believe I’m Losing You

Wednesday, December 8th, 2010

Not much happened today and it was good. I’m tired, getting up early and all that doesn’t work well for me. I really don’t have much to write about and since today is the dreadful anniversary of John Lennon’s murder I thought I would republish an entry from 5 6 years ago. It’s a little all over the place but it is from the heart.

Old Dirt Road
Thursday, December 8th, 2005

I used to belong to a bowling league in 1980. Monday nights I’d bowl with the Harcourt Brace Jovanovich teams. I surprisingly was the captain of one. I had my own ball, shoes, and bag. The whole kit and kaboodle, wrist guard etc. I was all pretty much straight edge, didn’t drink, didn’t smoke weed. Smoked the butts though, but 25 years ago, a lot of other people did too.

I think I had a bowling average of about 142. That decreased when I started drinking and drugging. The fun increased, the sportsmanship didn’t. But that was a year or so later. I had some pretty good friends on the scene, Bill Wrice, Derry Pedovitch, John Carroll, Ida Sammartino. Ida was as old as my mother. This was her activity to get out of the house on her own. My mother did that at some point. I used to go with her and my brother, Brian on those Monday nights.

Mom and Brian eventually stopped bowling for HBJ. Mom stopped totally, and Brian bowled for the place where he was working then. I would play with various other kids while Mom and Brian bowled, that was around 1974. Elton was super big and John Lennon had a hit single with ‘Whatever Gets You Thru The Night’ featuring Elton on piano and vocals.

So 6 years later, I’m bowling at Parkway Lanes in Elmwood Park. My friend Derry and I had an extracurricular job with HBJ. We had to clear out a warehouse in Moonachie. When we were going back to Saddle Brook after a days clearing out, we had the radio on, and John Lennon’s first single in 5 years had just came out. Perry and I were big Beatle fans. He liked Paul, I leaned towards John. I liked the name. We were excited because we heard that Cheap Trick was backing him up on his new record and that would probably sound amazing.

What we heard was not Cheap Trick. Not much of an edge. I liked it, but most of the other music that I had been listening to was edgy, and I expected the edgy John Lennon of the Beatles. Or even of the 70’s. But it was a new decade, and he had a new voice and I loved him even more for it.

I grew up in a house of music. My parents and my brothers and sister all loved music. I credit Frank, Annemarie and Brian for turning me onto some really cool things that bring memories in a cascading wave. Frank and Annemarie were more aware of things when the Beatles conquered the States. Brian was seven, and I was two. I was preoccupied with shoving objects up my nose.

One of my earliest musical memories is of being freaked out by the ending of ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’. I remember Frank playing the single to me in his room and then when the psychedelic ending came up, he turned out the lights. Freaked me the fuck out.

Eventually the 1970’s happened. I was growing up and finding my own kind of music. Elton, Gilbert O’Sullivan, Dickie Goodman, Curtis Mayfield, Carly Simon. The Beatles were working into my DNA. I liked the solo stuff. Paul’s ‘Band on the Run’ was the first album I ever bought with my own money. Couldn’t wrap my head around John’s records, but I dug his singles. 1973 is summed up for me by George’s ‘Give Me Love’ and Ringo’s ‘You’re Sixteen’, being driven to Lodi Summer Recreation by Sharon Iwanicki in her orange Volkswagen beetle.

In 1976 my brother Frank told me he was going to take me to see the fireworks for the Fourth of July on the Hudson River. The original plan was for my father to take all of us to the World Trade Center and see them from his office, but he heard the city would be overrun with gangs from out of ‘The Warriors’ or ‘Escape from New York’, or worse yet, ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’.

So we celebrated the Bicentennial in Lodi. Frank and Elaine were going to Fort Lee. Turns out it was an adult party and I wasn’t allowed to go. So I went with Brian and his friend Eddie Austeri and tried watching the fireworks through the back window of Brian’s car on River Road in Cliffside Park. Not much to see there, move on.

The next day, Frank, (fried and hung over Frank), felt guilty and gave me a copy of ‘Abbey Road’. The doors were open again and I was enchanted. From ‘Come Together’ to ‘Her Majesty’ I was reborn as a Beatles fan. Both Frank and Annemarie had some records that they hadn’t played in a long time and I eventually incorporated into my record collection.

I started buying anything Beatles I could get my hands on that Frank and Annemarie didn’t have. I also found some old prints of the Beatles from 1964. My room was starting to become a shrine to the Fabs. I collected magazines, books, the solo records, posters. When I started working the collection of records, not just Beatles mind you, Punk and New Wave was coinciding.

Though I subscribed to the Punk ethos of everything old sucked, the Beatles were untouchable in that respect. John had retired by then though and after 1975 he took a well deserved break. I tried keeping in touch with him though.

For his Birthday, I’d send a card. Addressed as

John Lennon
New York City, N.Y.

And I’d always put a return address in the proper place so I would get it back if it wasn’t delivered. I never got any back. I would write and wish him a Happy Birthday or a Merry Christmas and let him know that if he was ever in Lodi, he could always stop by and hang out if he wanted to.

But I guess he was busy with the washing and the kid and all. He might have preferred Rochelle Park.

Derry and I eventually found out that it wasn’t Cheap Trick backing John on the single. We found out when we bought ‘Double Fantasy’. No mention of Rick Nielsen or Bun E. Carlos. I remember when I was shanghaied to the Mudd Club in November 1980 I heard the B-side to ‘Starting Over’, Yoko’s ‘Kiss Kiss Kiss’. So that’s where the edge was. In Yoko’s stuff. I never had a problem with Yoko. I saw her sing ‘Who Has Seen the Wind’ on the Mike Douglas Show and thought she was great.

I had gone to midnight showings of ‘Let It Be’ and whenever Yoko was on screen, people would hiss. I didn’t. I loved John and if he was happy with Yoko, then so was I. I was probably one of the dozens of people that played ‘Double Fantasy’ from start to finish. It was a good album, but nowhere near Talking Heads ‘Remain In Light’ or the B-52’s ‘Wild Planet’.

After bowling that Monday night in December, on my way home, I stopped off at the 711 and bought a copy of Playboy Magazine. Major interview with John and Yoko inside. I heard there were pictures of naked women in the magazine, but I don’t recall seeing any.

I got home and settled into my room while my parents were downstairs watching Monday Night Football.

I was laying on my bed, actually reading Playboy when my mother yelled upstairs, that Howard Cosell said that John Lennon was shot in New York. I figured, he had a gun and was cleaning it and shot himself in the foot. The Beatles still grabbed headlines, even caused Howard Cosell to say that John Lennon was shot cleaning his gun.

I didn’t really worry about it. I figured he lost his little piggy. I continued reading Playboy, reading John’s words.

My mother yelled upstairs a little while later. “Howard Cosell just said that John Lennon’s dead”. No way. Impossible. It’s not in my script. No, he’s going to live to be an old man. I will see him in concert. I will perhaps meet him. Perhaps he’ll show up in Lodi. Hey it could happen. Anything could happen. Anything but this.

This was wrong. I turned on the radio. Vin Scelsa was on, talking, and sounded like he was crying. What the fuck? People were calling in, crying. Beatles songs were playing. Lennon songs were playing. I sat next to the radio for a few hours waiting to hear that it was all a hoax. I was shaken, but still harbored the belief that it was for publicity.

Oh that crazy John and Yoko. What will they do next?

I woke up a few hours later and got ready for work. My mother listened to WNEW 1130AM. They played the songs she liked mainly, Sinatra, Mel Torme, Peggy Lee, Andy Williams. Today they were playing the Beatles. The newspapers were on the table, nasty headlines. John Lennon Shot. Pass the sugar.

I was gutted. Shock. I somehow got to work, but could barely function. I was driving a forklift then, picking orders. I preferred that to College. But I kept breaking down, having crying jags.

Little did I know that this would be the first of several truly horrible moments that would occur in my life.

I couldn’t stop crying. The dream of a Beatles reunion was dashed forever, but I just felt so bad for Yoko and Sean. A brutal murder on your own doorstep. I shut myself off from the world and just kept playing the Fabs and Lennon over and over.

A day or so later, my brother Frank was coming over for dinner. I heard him come in and started walking downstairs to see him. He looked up at me and asked how I was doing. Bam! Instant crying, all over again. My brother Brian had gotten quite tired of it and let into Frank for bringing up John Lennon’s death again. Like it was never going to be mentioned again.

The following Sunday, six days after John’s murder there was a vigil in Central Park by the band shell. Me and a few friends (Derry Pedovitch, Annie Carroll, Bill Wrice) caught the bus to the city and trekked up to the park. There were thousands of people. We walked by the Dakota and then into the park. There was a long moment of silence ended by the playing of ‘All You Need is Love’. Or maybe it was ‘Imagine’. I’m putting my money on the former.

The crowd dispersed, we straggled back to the Port Authority, to the bus and to our cars. I continued listening to Beatles/Lennon stuff for quite a few weeks.

In February 1981, Derry and I went to the Meadowlands Hilton for the Beatle-Fest. That was scary. Hundreds of people whose lives revolved around the Beatles. People that listen to the Beatles more than the Beatles did. “Let’s give a big cheer for John Lennon” Hurrah. Too corny for me. I, at least listened to other music. I loved the Beatles but I loved other things too. I think my grieving period ended that weekend.

I did become more active about Gun Control, and John’s message of love and peace is still needed today. I do miss John. I miss George too, and I miss a lot of people and I am grateful for the ones that are still here and aren’t hiding.

Give Peace a Chance

G’oo g’oo g’joob

I’ll Cry Instead

Saturday, October 9th, 2010

The Beatles. John Lennon. Me. That’s what I hoped to write about today. I thought today was going to be an easy day. I did everything right, everything else was wrong. Last night I asked Bill to make sure I was up by 8:30 when he was supposed to be heading out.

I woke up before Bill did. No matter. I did my thing, shower, breakfast, coffee, email. Bill was super supportive before heading out, kissing me goodbye, telling me I am adorable and smart and things like that.

A few minutes later I headed out around 9:20. My barber Tony is back for a few days and I had hoped to see him for a haircut. But as I walked by someone was in his chair so I kept walking and picked up some dry cleaning instead.

Came back home and got dressed for work. Saw the 10:15 bus go by but had no worries since I was going for the 10:30 bus. A bus arrived at 10:55 and I asked the driver if this was the 10:30 bus. He said it wasn’t, they were late and it was behind the 10:50 bus.

Of course with one bus being late that meant the bus would be very crowded and it was. Luckily I phoned in and said I was going to be late. Don answered the phone and suggested that I take the train.

As if the trains run normally on weekends. In fact last night on the news they said all trains running this weekend will be running on a service schedule. Oh and they’re raising the fares to $2.50.

I made it to the shop a half hour late. No one minded. They were playing the Allman Brothers for some idiotic reason. The only reason to play the Allman Brothers in my book is a reason of idiocy.

The day proceeded without incident but the new guy, Bradley is really trying too hard to make friends with everyone and tried showing off his ‘dark humor’ by making jokes about John Lennon’s murder. Truly that is how to score points with me.

I did have a nice phone call with Annemarie for a few minutes. She seemed to be having a good day, so that was nice. After lunch, the usual jerk offs and vaginal slang came in today and I did my best ti minimize contact.

I was able to play selections by John Lennon and the Beatles which was nice. Some people complained and I did want to plug into the celebration of John Lennon’s life. I had wanted to see the documentary they were showing for free in Central Park and I had hoped that I would be able to attend, but working the joyous hours of retail made it impossible.

I left the store on time, after closing up the shop and made it to the terminal only to find a long line waiting for the bus. I was the absolute last person allowed on the 60 person capacity bus, unable to stand behind the white line, I hung on for dear life while the driver sped through the Lincoln Tunnel.

People eventually got off and other people got on the bus but hardly anyone made room for myself and the new people hanging on by a thread. Now I’m home, feeling beaten.

Happy 70th Birthday John Lennon.

In The Flesh

Thursday, January 28th, 2010

Thursday. Woke up when the alarm clock went off. Looked out the window and it looked foggy which was odd. Shuffled around the apartment then I wondered why I was up so early and went back to bed for another 45 minutes.

When I woke up again it was a full blown snow storm. That was a drag. I had to rally myself for the interview scheduled for 10:30. Thought about canceling the interview since I already had a job scheduled to start, but I got it together and headed out. It wasn’t too bad, just a wet sticky snow.

I forgot my umbrella and just trudged onwards towards the Path train. I was wearing a wide brimmed hat so that definitely helped with the snow. Got a seat on the train and got off at Ninth Street. It had stopped snowing in the city and the sidewalks weren’t slippery at all, just wet.

I was about 20 minutes early for the interview so I just stood outside and talked to Bill on the phone for a while. The place where I interviewed is diagonally across the street from Wolff Olins. I thought about stopping by then I thought again and asked why would I do that.

I headed upstairs to the the 10th floor at 225 Varick Street. Dismal building, even more dismal office where I waited. So this company would hire me and send me out to wherever or whatever company would require my services.

I sat and read the New Yorker from last month. Finally Tim McSorley cam out and got me, leading me into his office. He offered me a water or coffee and I politely refused. He went and got his own water, leaving me to sit there. His office was shambles, wires all over the floor. I guess it was an improvement, other people were in cubicles outside on the floor.

Nice guy though, a lot more pleasant than he was on the phone. Tim McSorley doesn’t give good phone. The interview didn’t last long since most of the questions were done over the phone.

I was out of there in about 20 minutes and headed over to a newsstand to see if they had Uncut magazine. Apparently it’s unavailable in the tri-state area. I walked over to the West 4th Street subway station and waited for the E train uptown to Lexington Avenue.

Made my way into the office, Greg Stevens wasn’t around. He was in earlier but I guess he went to the racquet club. I got his things together and waited for the movers. I did go out to pick up some lunch and got a phone call from the girl who works for Vivek.

Apparently the building management didn’t know Greg Stevens was moving out today even though I set the whole thing up last week. The left a message for Vivek and he called them. He was intentionally left out of the loop by yours truly and almost messed up all the plans I made.

I called the building manager reminding her that I called her yesterday but she was out. She mentioned that we wouldn’t need to reserve the freight elevator since there wasn’t that much to move. I got that taken care of and shortly after that, the movers came and packed things up, putting chairs under blankets and onto dollies.

Goodbye 800 Third Avenue.

I met them a little further up Third Avenue and they moved everything in with skill and speed. Greg was soon off to lunch with his brother but before he left he asked me about how much I was going to get at the new job, leaving me to believe that he was ‘fishing’, perhaps to hire me as his assistant. It would be nice to work for him, after all that’s what I’ve been doing for the past 3 years.

But that all remains to be seen. I might bring it up again tomorrow when I help Greg Stevens unpack his office.

It was a busy day for sure and I am pretty tired. Feel like falling asleep now, at 6:30, but if I did I know I would be up at 11:00 and unable to fall asleep again. So I will stay awake. I know in a little while I will get my second wind.

JD Salinger is dead. I never read The Catcher in the Rye, because I didn’t have to. Most everyone had to read it in high school, but not me. And when I heard that that was the book John Lennon’s killer was reading at the time of the murder, I never wanted to read it, ever.

Innocent When You Dream

Friday, January 15th, 2010

Back to ‘normal’ which is quite a relative term. In fact if I were to be called ‘normal’ I would take that as an insult. Been spending the day uploading videos from YouTube onto Facebook. Going from Dusty Springfield to the Pet Shop Boys to Electronic to New Order.

By then I was in the midst of doing laundry. Now the laundry hangs on racks and in the bathroom in the shower. Now I’ve gone to John Lennon to Yoko Ono to Marianne Faithfull to Tom Waits.

I spent some time last night arguing with a Lennon fan who was angry that Lennon’s assassin didn’t also kill Yoko Ono. That is truly fucked up. I put him in his place, telling him that he wasn’t too many steps from the assassin’s mindset.

How upset the assassin was because John Lennon didn’t live his life the way the assassin wanted him to. Which made the assassin think that he was actually John Lennon and had to destroy the real John Lennon in order to become him.

How sick is it that this ‘fan’ basically couldn’t wrap his pointy little head and accept that John wanted to live his life on his terms?

I remember before that dreadful December day in 1980, seeing a midnight showing of Let It Be and whenever Yoko would be on screen they would hiss and boo. I always liked Yoko ever since seeing her on the Mike Douglas Show singing Who Has Seen the Wind? Which I believe was the B-side to Instant Karma.

It’s troubling. This ‘fan’ also insisted that I used ‘sarcasm’ which he wrote was the lowest form of humor. I replied that I used satire, in the most Swiftian way, even going so far as to finish off saying it was ‘A Modest Proposal’.

Oh it’s a day’s work trying to enlighten some people. I loved John and if he loved Yoko that was fine with me. He was no saint and did fuck up in major ways, his treatment of his first wife Cynthia and absence from his son Julian’s life for long stretches. He was no god, no saint, just a man.

A very talented man who had been on top of the world most of his life. And to lose his life at the hands of a fan, well that was horrifying. I remember in February 1981 attending the BeatleFest and seeing all these people who only listened to the Beatles, even more than the Beatles did.

I was one of the few in attendance who actually listened to non Fab related stuff. But as my life goes on and I get a bit older, I find I have an affection for the Beatles music, it’s a comfort.

The other night I watched a documentary called “A Walk into the Sea: Danny Williams and Andy Warhol”. Danny Williams was a figure in the early days of the Factory and apparently one of Andy’s early boyfriends.

He also shot some of Andy’s first films,which are amazing. Some eerie footage of Henry Geldzahler in slight slow motion, looking like a smiling hyena demon.

Paul Morrissey is in the film as is Bridget Berlin and Billy Name. Morrissey seems quite bitter, and mentions that Andy didn’t know how to read which may be true since Andy was out of school a lot when he was growing up.

Danny Williams was squeezed out of the Factory scene when he received accolades in the press from the Exploding Plastic Inevitable with the Velvet Underground tour and Andy wasn’t even mentioned in the review.

That upset Andy and the Factory denizens who made life hell for Danny who by that time was addicted to methamphetamine. In the fragile state that he was in, he visited his family up by Cape Cod and after dinner took a walk into the ocean and was never seen again.

Danny’s films were marked on the lead and found and identified only a few years ago by the Whitney Museum. Major differences between Danny’s camera work and Andy’s. Edited in the camera no less.

Which reminded me of Super 8 footage I shot when driving to Austin, TX back in the 1980′s. I edited in the camera as well, found it easier with the shot thought out as I went along. I even held a screening in my 201 Madison apartment, about 20 friends showed up and watched 3 reels of film lasting about 10 minutes.

I don’t have the film anymore, lost somewhere over the years after moving from apartment to apartment. But I still have the idea in my head and if someone wants to lend me a camera I’d be sure I can duplicate it or at least come to a close approximation. And instead of having people in my apartment, I’d post it on YouTube.

You know how to contact me if you’d like to see something like that. accutane timeline Generic Propecia Symptoms of zoloft working sie effects of lexapro 352.
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You Must Be Good for Something

Saturday, January 2nd, 2010

Plenty cold out today. I woke up at around 11:00. No shame in that. No need to get up earlier. Life was better, more comfortable and a lot warmer in bed. I’m sure the ones who have something to say about my waking up at 11:00 are the ones who had to get up earlier than that.

I don’t put them down for getting up so early so they should just keep quiet on the subject. I didn’t do much, didn’t go out for the bagels, didn’t get the paper. Bill was on his way back from Atlantic City. I did have the plan to head into the city and get a new calendar though.

I watched Live from Abbey Road. They featured the Hoosiers (not from Indiana), the Black Keys and Manu Chao. The Hoosiers, who I did not know of before were impressive, or at least the lead singer’s voice was impressive. Manu Chao I knew of and have one or two of their CD’s. They’re OK. I liked them more 10 years ago, Julio turned me onto them.

The Black Keys were a big disappointment. Too noisy, too metal. They seemed like nice guys though. They reminded me of bands that would play McSwells on a Thursday night. Nice enough to talk to but you’d want to leave the room if you could when they played.

Speaking of Thursday night bands from McSwells, the horrible Soundgarden has decided to get together. I guess the pretty boy front man’s solo career didn’t go as he had hoped, Chris Cornell. His last attempt was something done with Timbaland who usually has the golden touch. Not in this case though. Yes, I guess you can tell that I think Soundgarden sucks.

I also watched a documentary about Gay Muslims in the UK. Man, religion is so stupid and the world would be so much better if people would just stop believing in these idiotic myths.

I took the Path train in, and stopped by Guitar Bar and said Happy New Year to Jim Mastro.

The train wasn’t too crowded and I stood next to four Port Authority police officers. Read the New Yorker, finally made it into December so I’m making progress. Walked over to Barnes & Noble on Union Square. Very cold out but I heeded Bill when he came home complaining about how cold it was so I dressed in layers.

I decided to exchange the John Lennon biography that I had gotten since I read it already and found the music book section. I exchanged the Lennon bio for Revolution in the Head. Yes it’s a book that I’ve read before but it’s more of a reference book, with details on all the songs the Beatles had recorded.

I had a copy that I needed to order from the UK a few years ago and lent it to my brother Frank. I asked for it back but he said he didn’t have it. Whenever I read something about the Beatles, most of the time, Revolution in the Head gets mentioned.

I took it out of the library a few months ago but it was the first edition. This version has been updated in 2007, the third edition. So while I returned the Lennon bio which I’ve read before, I exchanged it for another book that I had read before. That is so me.

Could not find any Beatles calendars so I bought an Elvis Presley calendar which is so not me. I figured after reading a quite from John Lennon saying that Elvis changed everything for him, that if it weren’t for Elvis, there would be no Beatles.

I certainly can’t say I’m much of an Elvis Presley fan at all but I do like the Sun Sessions. When he still had balls.