Inkwell: Authors and Artists

    
I did a reading in London last night, and the topic of the conspiracy
came up.  I believe that the John Lennon of 1980 was sedate, a family
values guy of sorts, and not the threat that certain powers thought
he'd been in the past; indeed, he'd appeared with Ronald Reagan a few
years earlier on Monday Night Football.  And Chapman is mentally ill. 
It would be pretty tough for the government to trust him to implement
their scheme.

Tupac, I understand your comment.  But a lot of readers I'm meeting
are not Beatles scholars and are learning much of the backstory for the
first time.  As I've mentioned before, it was a long road for John to
end up where he was in 1980, and I felt it was necessary for the reader
to travel the same rough patches.
  

    
Keith, how did the audiences and especially the questions differ
between your book readings in the USA and in the UK?
  

    
Gail, that's an interesting question.  I was discussing this last
night with my wife.  In the UK, I received a number of questions about
whether Yoko was popular in New York.  I answered affirmatively.  She
stayed in the city even after her husband was murdered in front of her,
proving that she was never a "blow in."  Her days as an artist -- long
before she met John -- are well-regarded.  Her role in creating
Strawberry Fields, as well as her charitable work, is appreciated. 
And, by all accounts, Sean Lennon is a great guy -- so she raised a
good kid.

The English were also very interested in the New York aspects of the
book, asking questions about the city.  Interestingly, I was concerned
that certain people, particularly in Liverpool, would feel territorial
about John Lennon.  But everyone was welcoming.  I guess there's
something about Lennon and/or the Beatles that's unifying.
  

    
Unifying.  Of course, that makes sense.  I think of "Imagine" when I
think of John. That has got to be one of the most optimistic of songs,
gently inviting the unity of humanity.  

Thanks for participating in this conversation, Keith.  
  

    
Thank you, Gail.  I'm enjoying the feedback as everyone reads through
the book.
  

    
In spite of the temptation to be possesive, the sharingnes of Beatles'
songs defers the possesiveness.  Although your book has motivated me
to write much more many times my words were wiped away so I did not get
to write what I was trying to write.

Your book reminds me to say only the good about the positive.  PEACE!

;-)
  

    
I was only 12 when he was shot - first semester of Jr. High in
Phoenix.  I was raised by my dad's mother Christine (who had been "mom"
to me virtually my entire life, as she'd raised me since I was 6
months old) and her sister, my great aunt Helen.  Mom was 59 when
Lennon was assassinated.  Helen listened to a bit more in the way of
pop music than mom, even though she was about 2 years older - mostly
oldies on the radio like Dionne Warwick, but she knew stuff like Rod
Stewart's latest hits, too.  Mom had been the hipper one back in the
day, although she listened to practically no music the entire time I
was growing up.  

She probably didn't care for the longhairs the Beatles became, but
back in her 30's she'd become a huge Elvis fan fairly late in life, and
she was definitely the most musical of the bunch (she'd learned to
play piano by ear when she was a girl).  

My uncle, who'd just turned 30 himself, had moved out of our home a
year or so before, and he'd left behind some of his huge record
collection, which I was just beginning to really exploit.  I was at the
age where you start listening to the radio a lot on your own - the Top
40 countdown and such.  I liked oldies a lot, and my uncle's
collection was thick with Stax and the Stones, although a bunch of
Beatles LPs had been given away to another uncle just as I was starting
to sample them.  I remember being a bit upset about that. 

On the radio I gravitated to singer songwriter oldies from the early
'70s, Carole King and such.  I may have had my own copy of Tapestry by
this point, and I think I'd just gotten my own Sears stereo, complete
with a record player and a tape deck.  Not hifi, but not cheap and
plastic like my kiddie Wards record player had been, and it had a great
FM stereo radio.  Lennon's "(Just Like) Starting Over" was climbing
the charts at the end of November and I knew it and I liked it.  But
I'd never been much of a Beatles fan up until that point - they were
still on my to-do list.
 
Mom came into my room and sat down on the bed while I slept, the
morning after Lennon died.  I don't know why she did that (I never
asked before she passed away), what compelled her to gently wake me and
tell me the news herself, first thing in the morning.  I remember
thinking at the time it was odd - she never did anything like that
before, and never did anything like it after.  It was as if a relative
had died.

Of course "(Just Like) Starting Over" and Double Fantasy stormed the
charts after Lennon's death, and Beatles songs were wall to wall on the
radio for months.  I loved all the singles from Double Fantasy, and
like most folks felt they were eerily appropriate somehow.  He'd been
away from the charts for far too long, came back completely
contemporary and relevant, and was then taken away from us for good. 
Tribute singles trickled out onto the Top 40 over the next year or two,
most of them surprisingly inspired and evocative - "All Those Years
Ago", "Empty Garden (Hey Hey Johnny)", even Stevie Nicks with her "Edge
of Seventeen", although we wouldn't learn what her inspiration was
until much later.
 
Flash forward a couple of years and I'm an enormous Beatles fan in
high school.  Everybody else is spinning Van Halen and I'm listening to
Sgt. Pepper's.  I've got a couple of Lennon solo records, a smattering
of Wings/McCartney efforts, even a Harrison record or two.  I've got a
poster of Lennon up on the wall, the works.  It radically impacted the
kind of music I listened to, my standards, my politics, my
understanding of (and obsession with) the 1960's, my Anglophilia, all
of it.

So you know, finding out about his death and finding out about it in
the way that I did, and then what happened in music as a reaction to
his death has - in an odd way - turned out to be not only one of the
most memorable but also one of the most powerful and most positive
experiences of my life.  Which is just bizarre, given how sad I still
feel to this day when I think about how he was cut down, 2 years
younger than I am now, but that's how the universe seems to roll.  

Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans . . .
 
  

    
Very powerful story, Dan.  And it's consistent with something I've
been saying.  John Lennon's story did not end with his death.  In your
case, it was just the beginning.  My hope is that, 50 years from now,
someone will pick up my book in a library somewhere, and begin
listening to Lennon and the Beatles.
  

    
The holiday and my birthday took me away early from saying thank you
to Keith and Mike. We have moved on to a new features conversation. 
  

    
And thank you to everybody.  I've enjoyed your feedback, as well as
your personal stories.
  

    
And now, today is the 30th anniversary.