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Meh

I remember when ol' Lennon was murdered. I was at the petty officers club on the training base in Norfolk Virginia (horrible city in a horrible state) and this guy comes in with tears in his eyes and he says "John Lennon was killed!", I, being as sensative then as I am now, said "Thank god, now we don't have to be subjected to a Beatles reunion", which you have to admit was a good answer. This guys starts a fight with me! The fight goes no where and I leave to walk back to the bearthing and this same idiot jumps me and we fight some more, he runs off, a few minutes later he jumps me again. Went on all the way back to the bearthing, we fought about five times....no harm no foul. Next morning he didn't remember none of it...I'm still happy the Beatles never reunited.

Umehh...

The Dakota is a cool dark luxury building...1880's
Exterior for Rosemary's Baby and is the time traveling jumping off point in the novel "Time and Again".

I'm sure you would hear more on Justin's bike tour.
I should do it myself.

I lived in small Southern towns which the oldest buildings usually were early 1900s and in San Jose that has no cool old buildings really (other than the DeAnza Hotel) and only goes back to 1776 for even being settled by indian killing Spanish missionaries. That is why I loved visiting Boston because how old the buildings are. I've never been to NYC, never really had a reason to go. My father is there all the time (Queens I think, her street ends across from Houdinis grave) because he is shacking up with his highschool girlfriend (Brooklyn Technical) and being the nagging pain in the arse she is she makes him go to NYC for about half the year, usually the worse part of the year. Kind of makes me wanna visit. I don't know about a bike tour, saw enough leather bars in San Francisco.....

My mother worked for an older gentleman who lived in the Dakota. I visited her on occassion and met John and Yoko for a short while in the elevator. (World's SLOWEST elevator! Bar none!) It's a moment I treasure.

I treasure never being subjected to John and Yoko. My dream is to never be in the same state as Sean Lennon.

That album cover forever put the fear of exposed hippie genitals into a nation of innocents. Ivory soap sales went up 10 fold.

The (REALLY) cool thing about the bicycle tour is we don't have to go by bike! It's your tour, we can go however you are most comfortable! I'm just the guide, I'll get you around to see all the sites. We go when you want, we come back when you want, we go at YOUR pace.

Book now, space is limited.

Santa, I am sorry you had to fight over that. I would not have reacted as your assailant did. I do however understand why he felt the need to do that. If you don't care for the Beatles music, that is your business. I don't care if you liked them or not. Making light of anyone's death is never appropriate. If you don't understand that, think about how you would react if someone make a joke of of the death of someone you loved. Your statement was at best insensitive, and the fact that he had tears in his eyes should have told you everything you needed to know.

Don't answer this, just think about it.

He didn't love Lennon, he didn't know him, he was drunk...the next day he didn't care Lennon was gone. Dang Justin, I use a cane, you'd be jitterbugging down the street and I'd be left behind beating some gangster over the head while screaming "why can't you people speak without that stupid $@&()( accent?!".

I did have fun in Boston, I walked around impersonating JFK and no one noticed.

Dude...I said we will go at YOUR pace. It's not about me, it's about YOU having a great time, no matter how fast, slow or crawl we go. We can just sit on a corner and make fun of all the outta towners. That's a sport in itself!

I'll tell you what will happen when I get to New York City. I'll end up in Queens being told how wonderful my father is (note, my father was a drunken ahole when I was growing up, now he is a fun loving sober geezer, still doesn't change what he was). I'll then end up meeting the pals of my half brother who died a few months ago, which means bikers and convicts, so that will be fun. I'll then go look at Houdinis grave and then maybe hit Brooklyn to get mustard. I'll say "how about going to Timesquare or any of that stuff?" and they'll say "oh, youz doon wanna dooz dat ya bustah" and I'll get on a bus and end up in Harlem where I'll be knifed by a guy named Choo Choo because he always wanted to drive the subway and when they steal my wallet someone will say "he's a freakin' tourist!" and my corpse will lie there until it rots and is eaten by rats.

I still have the front page of the Las Vegas Sun, dated December 8, 1980, whose headline read "John Lennon Shot to Death." Lennon's picture, longish hair and round sunglasses, was the size of my hand. Along side the picture of Lennon there was a picture of a Communist soldier from Poland, whose stern face reminded us that we were still in the middle of the Cold War.

Regardless of my personal differences with his philosophy and politics, I still admired the man, his music, and the music he wrote with McCartney. I still remember the cold, achy feeling I got when I saw the headlines and read the paper. The picture of him juxtaposed with the Communist soldier is a constant reminder to me that, for the most part, we live in a cold-hearted, impartial world, full of strange beings that I will never quite fully understand.

Oh...I thought you were saying McCartney wrote music with a Polish soldier.

December 8th, 1980; I was in the navy, we just got back from 6 months over seas, a few weeks earlier, and I was looking forward to 15 days off and heading back to NYC.

Double Fantasy is better than a great album.


Beautiful boy...

Ever hear the outtakes and discussions on tape that John had during the recording? He wasn't exactly the 'woman is my equal' type guy the public thought he was.

Matters aught to me. He had his beliefs as you have yours and I have mine. The rest is bait and lures, and I've already eaten. Good luck.

Buenos nochas!