It seems to be obligatory for bloggers this morning to write on some or all of the following topics…
- How I met John Lennon
- Where I was thirty years ago today when I heard that John Lennon had been murdered
- What John Lennon's music meant to my life
Taking the last of these first: I mean no disrespect to the dead or to my many friends whose lives were changed by him when I say that it was music I enjoyed but that's about as far as it went for me. This may have been my loss and it may still be my loss, I don't know. Lennon's was the music of my generation but I somehow never connected with most of the music of my generation; not the way so many others do. I guess I'd like to get a word in here on behalf of anyone who was saddened by John's death (and especially with how it occurred) but who wasn't personally touched. Music can mean many things to many people and it doesn't necessarily have to course through your soul to have value. I certainly appreciated him as an artist and a man who impacted so many in such a positive way, even if I wasn't among the impacted.
Where I was: At home, not watching the famous football game where Howard Cosell announced it in such an odd, inappropriate way. I answered my phone and heard a woman in such tears that it was clear someone who meant everything to her had died. It took at least a full minute to figure out who the crying woman was (a lady I'd dated) and who she was crying about…and then I recall not saying much because there wasn't much to say beyond the obvious. It did seem quite inappropriate to say the obvious when you noted the death of John Lennon.
I turned on the news and heard a chilling reference to a deranged loner who'd stalked Lennon and gunned him down outside his New York apartment. It was chilling because I knew (slightly) a fellow who had told me how much he hated both Lennon and Paul McCartney. Why? I didn't pay enough attention to fully comprehend, though I bet it wouldn't have made a lot of sense. It had something to do with how The Beatles were the most important thing in the world and since they'd broken up and taken that away from us, they deserved to die. The fellow didn't seem capable of violence but that's what they say about a lot of people who go up on a tower somewhere and point an automatic weapon at strangers…and the guy was in New York. A bit later when the news identified the "suspect" in custody, I was relieved. I guess I didn't want to spend the rest of my life thinking, "Gee, when that guy said John and Paul deserved to die, I should have called the police…"
How I met him: It was brief, very brief. It was just after I ceased working on Welcome Back, Kotter so that would have made it '77, I guess. I had to go back to the studio, which was the ABC facility in Los Feliz, to meet with Danny Simon (brother of Neil) on a project I was offered. On my way back to the car, I ran into a gentleman I knew who helped manage the facility there. He was showing two people around and when I said hello to him, I guess he thought it would be awkward not to introduce me to the couple he was escorting through the lot. Or maybe he just wanted to give me the thrill of meeting John Lennon and Yoko Ono…which it was, though Mr. Lennon could not have been less interested in meeting me.
We shook hands. Racing to think of something different/witty to say, I fell back on what I occasionally did when meeting someone really, really famous which was to deliberately misstate their credits. It had amused them in the past but at first, Lennon did not laugh when I said, as I did, "This is a great honor. My favorite song has always been your 'I Can't Get No Satisfaction.'" He gave me a look and I thought, Oh, shit. He doesn't get that I'm trying to be funny and Yoko had a look of shock that I will never forget.
But it only lasted a fraction of a second because then Lennon laughed and Yoko realized it was a joke so she laughed too…and I'd like to think he knew exactly what I was doing from the second I said it but decided to play along and react as if he didn't. I mean, someone like John Lennon had to be so weary of meeting people who said gushy things about how they knew every note and word he'd ever written, what I said had to be a little refreshing, right? That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Anyway, I thought the best way I could show my appreciation to the man — and not risk saying anything inarguably stupid — would be to leave him and Yoko alone. So I said, "A pleasure to meet you and to be able to tell everyone for the rest of my life that I met you," and I made sure Yoko understood that she was included in that. And I got the hell away from them.
Later that day, I phoned the fellow who'd introduced us to thank him. He told me that John and Yoko were looking for a place to tape some sort of message to the world about some cause they were championing, which is why he was showing them what ABC Los Feliz could offer. I never heard if they did the broadcast, there or anywhere.
He also confirmed for me that Mr. Lennon was indeed amused, which I was sure glad to hear. Still, I don't think I ever tried that Deliberate Misunderstanding joke with anyone else I ever met who was that famous and important. Then again, who was ever as famous and important as John Lennon?