Anyway, twenty-eight years ago a crazed fan shot John Lennon right outside of his apartment in The Dakota building on New York's upper west side. I was in New York about eight years ago. I was walking through Central Park and stopped to cool off in the shade. I looked down at my feet, they were killing me, and I realized I was standing right in the center of the imagine mosaic dedicated to him.
I am not one of those that deifies Lennon, nor am I particularly fascinated by him. However, during college a friend of mine brought the song "Working Class Hero" to my attention and it truly changed my opinion of him (and life in general).
That song is well worth any praise it ever got. It's power is immediate and lasting. I probably spent close to forty minutes with the song on repeat sitting mostly in the dark save some softly flickering candles. I had outlasted everyone that had come by for our party that night including my friend who'd brought the album over.
The next day, I was a bit heavy from the introspection and meditation from the night before. I've played that song for dozens since and spoken of it with countless others.
The man certainly had a unique perspective on life. And he made plenty of songs that I don't care for, much less understand, but there are also musical imperatives from the mind of John Lennon.
I woke up today and donned the $5 shirt I bought of him on Madison Avenue several years ago without even realizing it was the anniversary of his death. R.I.P!
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