Each year on December 8th, the world remembers John Lennon for his gift of music. It’s a gift that forever resonates and floats eternally across the universe. But what made this December 8th most special was the fact that I got to spend it in the city that John Lennon loved and called home– New York City. My father, a friend, and myself spent about 7 hours strolling through the city. We walked almost 8 miles when all was said and done. I would have walked ten.
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John Lennon was murdered 27 years ago tonight. On December 8, 1980, I wasn’t old enough to appreciate the loss of such a gifted and talented artist. Some 27 years on, I am. Aside from Kurt Cobain, a puzzle piece of my generation, musically, there was no other person I admired more than John Lennon.
My only connection to John Lennon in the physical world is an autographed thank you card, signed by Yoko Ono, I received way back in high school. I sent a letter and some money for purchase of flowers in his memory. I received a thank you card, and I can’t remember if I received the money back. I am pretty sure she did send the money back. For some reason, the card was ripped, and all that is left is a portion of the card where she signed it.
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If anything on this Earth has been important to me my entire life, music would be up on top of that list pretty high. As far back as I can recall my earliest memory, I can recall music. It’s always been there.
I guess I can thank my father, who knows more about music than anyone I’ve ever known, and more about 60s music than most so-called experts who write books and give commentary on the subject. I guess I can thank him for the thousands of records he’s owned over the years, and the 1,200 or so music CDs I have sitting down in the “vault.”
Blood, Sweat & Tears
After having converted out entire CD collection to digital, in the form of MP3s, I now have almost 17,000 songs at my fingertips. No more searching ten minutes for a two minute song. Those days are over. The problem now is figuring out what song you want to hear.
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