LENNON REMEMBERED

Recently, I posted the following comment on my Facebook page:

A new father quoted the lyrics to John Lennon’s song Beautiful Boy here (on Facebook). Which reminded me of the night Lennon was shot dead in New York and the newspaper I worked for (The Ottawa Citizen) asked me to write a reaction piece. So after tucking my beautiful boys into bed, I sat down and wrote from the heart.

Many, many year later, doing an online search for my name, I discovered that someone was kind enough to get permission and post it on the Web. I didn’t want to put a damper on the new father’s joy, so I decided to post the link here.

My son 32-year-old son Travis then posted the following comment:

“Did they run the piece the next day? I’m just trying to see if I can find it.

My reply:

Travis. The piece ran on Friday, Dec. 12, most likely in The Citizen’s weekly entertainment tabloid, tgif. (You might remember tgif, you appeared there a number of times, including a famous cover shot [Thank you, John Major] taken at La Ronde amusement park in Montreal.)

Lennon was shot that Monday night (Dec. 8). I was next door playing video games with Lloyd, while listening to Monday Night Football,  which is how I first heard the news from legendary sports broadcaster Howard Cossell.

I was stunned speechless.

I think I wrote the piece the next night and they ran it in tgif on Friday. [tgif was included in the Friday paper, hence its name] I wrote a weekly album-review column, Revolutions, which appeared in tgif, and wrote articles, including cover stories, for them.

I was still somewhat chocked up when I tucked you, and Tyler, in that night, before sitting down to write. I don’t think I ever wrote anything else in such an emotional state.

The paper loved it. People remembered it for a long, long time. And I was happy that it came out as well as it did, considering much of it was written in stream of thought, AND feeling. I didn’t go back and rework it, or polish it up, because I wanted to retain the spontaneity of emotion.

Any clippings, and a few copies of tgif, [I’ve kept] are buried somewhere down in the basement. I don’t think I have a lot saved, so it’s nice to see this piece preserved so far on the Internet. (And yes, I long ago saved a copy from the Internet.

Love, Dad (who has always worried over his own beautiful boys and prayed the Lord to keep them safe.)

Here is what I wrote back then:

LENNON DREAMED FOR US ALL

By Bill Provick, Ottawa Citizen Staff Writer

Published on Friday, December 12, 1980

Introduction

The music of the Beatles rocked the world, and the murder of head Beatle John Lennon shocked it. Today TGIF music columnist Bill Provick, who grew up as part of the Beatles generation, attempts to explain the impact of Lennon’s life and sudden death.

[Article]

John Lennon dreamed of “life in peace” for everyone in Imagine and he was right when he added he was not the only one.

While his fellow Beatles filled us with pleasure, it was always Lennon that filled us with ideas.

For me, Lennon lived in and through his music. All the publicity about his changing lifestyle was just so much background. It was the images, the emotions, the humor and the pain he shared with us that earn him such a special place in our minds and hearts.

The others accepted their roles: Paul McCartney as the gifted composer / arranger / performer; George Harrison the slightly bitter, inhibited lesser-light whose belated bid for artistic credibility drowned in his religious propaganda, and Ringo Starr as the anti-star, the gifted amateur who endeared through his off-beat charm.

Individuality maintained

But through it all, and under intense pressure, Lennon insisted on being himself. Right or wrong, he dared to speak his mind and forced us not just to listen, but to think.

When Beatlemania threatened to turn them all into golden idols, he fought back. He publicaly stated that the Beatles were bigger than Jesus Christ. He didn’t believe they were, or even should be, but he wanted to shock some sense into his near-hysterical public following.

A mere pop band was being deified and perhaps he sensed that crucifixion usually followed. And he was always crucified in the media, but, as always, he stuck to his convictions.

You tended to hate him or love him, but he made you react.

Enduring personal respect

The others had immense popularity spiced with artistic respect but it was Lennon who inspired the enduring personal respect that sparked such intense loyalty.

We didn’t always agree with him, and even he had to revise some of his stances, but it was all part of his human nature — the very humanness that set his music apart from everyone else. Only Bob Dylan has come as close to turning messages into memorable music.

Lennon was tortured. He grew up without a dad, lost his mom early, and was raised by his aunt. It was little wonder he soon became a rebel in need of a cause.

Anthems to live by

His causes were always admirable if not practical. He gave us anthems to live by: “All you need is love,” “Give peace a chance,” “Whatever gets you through the night.”

Like many, I saw myself in the musical mirrors Lennon provided. He was the Beatle who dared to look at the darker side of love — primarily the fear of rejection that lurks like a landmine in any romance.

Unlike most of the other musicians providing soundtracks for our lives, Lennon shared his ups and downs. He touched numerous responsive chords within us, often magically articulating our very own thoughts, hopes and fears.

This personal, long-distance bonding of psyches made Lennon’s music transcend mere entertainment.

I never knew him but I knew what he brought to my life. Just being able to speak our troubles out loud often helps; hearing them reflected in our music provided a near-magical solace.

Lennon was a close personal friend who was always as close as the nearest turntable.

Rock’s rarefied lifestyle

Lennon was caught in the rarefied lifestyle of a rock superstar but he didn’t let it eat him alive as it had done others. He even strove to remain the working-class here, with partial success.

And he taught us valuable lessons — including the fact that fame and fortune don’t insulate people from their personal demons. In Lennon’s case, those demons were frequently loneliness tied to jealousy.

No matter what, we were all still vulnerable. We could still be scared and scarred by life.

“Hatred and jealousy, gonna be the death of me

I guess I knew it right from the start

Sing out about love and peace

Don’t wanna see the red raw meat

The green-eyed goddamn straight from your heart”

— John Lennon, “Scared“

And like so many of us in the post-peace-and-love ’70s, he was more than a little tired. He suspended his musical career and, again like many of us, turned his attention to raising a family of his own.

Again, I could relate to it.

I suffered through the teen-age trauma of first loves with the Beatles. And understood how one could get moony and dewy-eyed over McCartney crooning silly love lines to Michelle.

At the same time I could relate even better to Lennon’s flair for looking at the darker sides of the clouds. I could understand how traditional insecurity can turn a person into a emotional bully.

“Well I’d rather see you dead little girl

Than to be with another man

You better keep your head little girl

Or I won’t know where I am

Better hide your head in sand little girl

Catch you with another man

That’s the end…”

— Lennon-McCartney, “Run For Your Life”

And now, more than 15 years later, Lennon re-entered my life in a more active manner, and I found I could still relate to his new music. Double Fantasy — including his beautiful song to his young son:

“Close your eyes / have no fear

The monsters’s gone / he’s on the run

And your daddy’s here

Beautiful boy

Beautiful, beautiful boy . . . “

— Lennon, “Beautiful Boy”

But the monster wasn’t gone.

He waited on the streets of New York City.

And as I tuck my boy into bed, I feel the fear and I feel the loss.

And I can’t stop feeling what this man taught me — never stop imagining, never stop dreaming.

And the music plays on, still transcending its own medium, and giving life — and now death — a little more meaning.

It’s a dream worth keeping.

“So long ago .

Was it in a dream? Was it just a dream?

It seem so very real, it seemed so real to me

Took a walk down the street

Thru the heat whispered trees

I thought I could hear

Somebody call out my name

As it started to rain

Two spirits dancing so strange…”

— Lennon, “#9 Dream“

— Bill Provick

The Ottawa Citizen

E-published with permission.