J.L. Oh, J.L., you belong to the whole, entire world. To combovered Beatlemaniac Spaniards and to pre-teens mustying up their hands as they pillage dad's college rekkids...to basically anyone who has ever heard a single song by you, which is Everyone. Are you the most loved? I have a flower from Strawberry Fields pressed in a cheap photo album. I wrote John 4-EVER!! on the wall in front of Abbey Road Studios when I was 17. I felt like you were watching me.In Italian class, I recited a tribute to you -- my beautiful urban-hippie teacher loved it and everyone else giggled. You once drew a cartoon that said "Play with yourself all day" for a gay magazine...you were the first person I was obsessed with to talk about sex with ease and humor. You left your wife, and she understood that you needed to, and you came back and she said, "It was time." Do people like you exist everywhere? That Mark David Chapman interview with Barbara Walters...I still can't watch my busted tape copy all the way through. The No Parole for John Lennon's Assassin pin that I picked up at the Cavern "Gift Shop" (does that make you mad? I can't believe they tore it down) is on my jacket today. On a family trip to Boston (years before I made it to NY), a friend of my mom's (he loved you, too) offered to buy me a train ticket to the city to see the Dakota, to see where you lived and died. Too hard. I miss you. You helped me grow up and out. fell on 2005-12-08 at 6:29 p.m. |
hunting hi/lo neu!
Grishko & Co. - 2022-12-23
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