Monday Music: Imagining the Unimaginable

John Lennon would have been 82 yesterday (Sunday). The same age as my mom. I remember where I was when news broke that he had been assassinated in the street outside his New York home. I can remember my reaction when someone ran into the bathroom in my Penn State dorm and shouted that Lennon was dead. I dropped my toothbrush. Stood before the mirror and stared.

I find it strange now that it hit me as it did, almost as hard as when my grandfather died. I know more about Lennon now than I did then. Can see the flaws, the damaged man that he was, and I get angry that he took his anger and disappointment out on those around him.

Lennon was a lot of things, including being an often shitty person. But in his contradictions lied a desire that the world be better than it was.