War Is Over If You Want It.

Most of you know that my favorite Beatle is George Harrison. This is true, but my first love was John Lennon.

His music has affected me since before I can remember. When I was a baby my parents played a tape in my room called “Baby Road,” a tape of Beatles lullabies. When I was ten I picked out “The Magical Mystery Tour,” by my self when my dad told me I could pick out a CD. John’s voice and lyrics mesmerized me. “Strawberry Fields” was one of the songs that first spoke to me. My favorite line in the song is, “Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see.” It reminds me to pay attention to my life, right now, and to analyze the things I experience as much as possible. “All You Need Is Love,” is also on that album. That song has meant so much in my life. Every line is full of advice and reminders.

Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.
There's nothing you can do that can't be done.
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung.
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game
It's easy.
There's nothing you can make that can't be made.
No one you can save that can't be saved.
Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time
It's easy.
All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
Love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love, love.
All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.
There's nothing you can know that isn't known.
Nothing you can see that isn't shown.
Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be.
It's easy.
All you need is love, all you need is love,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.

It is so tempting to get wrapped up in the drama of everyday, but this song helps me slow down, and remember that the best things are often the simplest.

John’s solo music has also affected me more than I can say. The first solo John song that I, and most people ever heard was “Imagine,” a song that asks people to forget how live is and think about how it could be if we all worked less to build barriers and a little harder to love each other.

One of my favorite things about John is that he was so personal in his lyrics. He wasn’t afraid to show his weaknesses, like in “Jealous Guy,” (I was feeling insecure, you might not love me anymore, I was shivering inside, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m sorry that I made you cry, I didn’t want to hurt you, I’m just a jealous guy.) He wasn’t afraid to admit that he was desperately in love, shown in “Oh My Love,” (Oh my lover for the first time in my life, my eyes are wide open, my eyes can see.) And he certainly wasn’t afraid to express how he felt about the world, society, and politics, as seen in many songs including “Gimme Some Truth,”

I’m sick and tired of hearing things
From uptight, short-sighted, narrow-minded hypo-critics
All I want is the truth
Just gimme some truth
I’ve had enough of reading things
By neurotic, psychotic, pig-headed politicians
All I want is the truth
Just gimme some truth
No short-haired, yellow-bellied, son of tricky dicky
Is gonna mother hubbard soft soap me
With just a pocketful of hope
Money for dope
Money for rope
I’m sick to death of seeing things
From tight-lipped, condescending, mama’s little chauvinists
All I want is the truth
Just gimme some truth now
I’ve had enough of watching scenes
Of schizophrenic, ego-centric, paranoiac, prima-donnas
All I want is the truth now
Just gimme some truth
No short-haired, yellow-bellied, son of tricky dicky
Is gonna mother hubbard soft soap me
With just a pocketful of soap
It’s money for dope
Money for rope
Ah, I’m sick and tired of hearing things
From uptight, short-sighted, narrow-minded hypocrites
All I want is the truth now
Just gimme some truth now
I’ve had enough of reading things
By neurotic, psychotic, pig-headed politicians
All I want is the truth now
Just gimme some truth now

Many of John’s fans feel like they have an intimate connection with him. I think this is because he was so skilled at expressing how he felt and how he believed the people that listened to him were feeling. He said how he felt about the world and he did so in a plain, sincere, and honest way. It seemed like he had taken the time to reckon with himself and now he wanted to share it with all of us. For many he was a symbol of hope and resistance against the way the country was going.

John was murdered on December 8th, 1980 at 10:50 PM, Eastern Time on the sidewalk outside his apartment, in front of his wife, while his son slept inside. He was shot three times in the chest, and then twice in the back when he turned to run away. Mark David Chapman was an obsessed fan who felt like the only way he would be remembered would be if he killed someone famous. I don’t hate him, but rather, I pity him. I can’t imagine feeling that horrible about myself, or feeling so ignored, so unloved that I had to take someone else’s fame. It’s obvious that something went wrong in his brain and that he is an obsessive personality. He read “Catcher in the Rye,” and identified with the main character, Holden Caulfield. He heard an interview where John Lennon explained that he often felt that his celebrity was “phony,” and from that point deiced he should kill Lennon.

I get chills when I hear the recording of Howard Cosell announcing his death during a football game, “Yes, we have to say it. Remember this is just a football game, no matter who wins or looses.” An unspeakable tragedy….” When I hear people’s stories about how they heard about his death, it makes me feel just as sad as if I was there. Mark Riley, a veteran New York City radio host said about the day after Lennon’s death, “It was one of those days when New York City just stopped. People walked slower, their posture was lower, it was like a piece of the city had been killed.”

I don’t cry too much. I’m not a mushy person. I don’t cry at movies or during TV shows, and I’ve never cried at a funeral. But when I think about the force that was stolen from the world when John Lennon was killed, I feel like I could cry for hours.



"I'm not afraid of dying. I don't know how it feels at the moment. But I'm prepared for death because I don't believe in it. I think it's just getting out of one car and into another."

The Floor Is Different

When I went home for Thanksgiving I expected things to be different. I thought my friends might treat each other differently; maybe my family would be different too. I thought it would feel different to be in my room at home after sleeping in my dorm room for so long. When I finally arrived home after my plane being cancelled until the next afternoon and a three over layover in Seattle, and almost losing my suitcase is that the only thing that was different was the floor.

The first instance that life in Portland had not changed much happened as I was wandering around in the baggage claim area in PDX. I turned on my cell phone and saw that I had a voicemail: “Hi Alison……It’s Clarieeeece…..Just wondering what you are doing……Where are you? Uhh…call me…yeah.” It was the first time I had heard my friend’s voice since leaving, and everything, right down to the intonation of the message (almost identical to every message she’s ever left on my phone) was the same.

Then my dad called. The traffic on the Sunset was awful so my family wouldn’t be at the airport for a half hour. I asked if we could pick Kellen up from Powell’s on the way back home and as usual, my dad was reluctant, (“We might not have room”) and my mom, in the background said that we should (“Of course we have room, the car seats five”). Also in the background was my brother, “This sucks.” It was sort of comforting to know everything was the same, but also disappointing in a way. What…my leaving didn’t cause drastic change in everyone’s attitudes?

I knew my dad was changing the floor at home, but it looked a lot different than I thought it would. Our house was built in the 1970s, and it was quite obvious. Harvest gold (orange-brown) carpet, fake rock on the fireplace, sunken living room, it had it all. Now almost the whole main floor was light colored hard wood, it was all one level, and most of the fake rocks were gone. I like how it looks, and I’m glad I was gone while it was being changed, but it threw me off a little.

Friday night proved that none of my friends had really changed. Clariece was still sardonic and sarcastic, Isabelle was still attached to Seanie by whatever body part was closest, Ruth was still paranoid, yet endearing, and Kellen remains steady when no one else does. He’s also still allergic to my cats but tries to be friends with them. The Christmas Tree lighting was all right, although it became more of a never-ending quest for coffee and dinner. Then not wanting to go home we wandered the brightly lit streets and through the department stores filled with Black Friday shoppers. Clariece and Ruth failed at a game called “Lets Get Kicked Out of Nordstrom,” and we took the Max back to my house and watched “Pulp Fiction”.

For some reason I thought that some, or maybe, all of these things would be different. After thinking about it, it’s less disappointing, and more a relief that things are basically the same. Even though I love it in Missoula I can hardly wait to get home again.

(Picture is Kellen looking miserable because of Licorice the cat. Licorice looks like he's enjoying making Kellen miserable.)