Thanks, John

Thanks, John

The very first writing I ever did was this: hunkering down in my lonely but safe upstairs bedroom, and imagining new lyrics to Beatles tunes.  By kindergarten I knew the words to virtually every song.  I had this ancient, single-unit stereo with hinged speakers attached to the side and a drop down turntable.  I don’t recall too many of the songs I rewrote, but one was “For No One.” I know Paul sang it. But the Beatles, for me, was John. Fast forward 10 years. I recall exactly where I was, on the night John Lennon died. SE 52nd. Woodward. Portland, Oregon. Driving down the street in my green Ford Galaxie.  24862299_868613125772_6517709966357775190_nThe news came over the radio. Since then I’ve been through a lot of loss but this was sui generis. It gutted me. It was the death of everything. It was world murder. John, I thank you. I miss you. I’m so grateful. You grabbed me by the hair and saved me. I’m still here and still listening.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s