John Lennon the Jerk

I don't like to call people names.  It pains me to call one of my idols a jerk.  But I just finished reading John by Cynthia Lennon.  Her basis of the book is not to bad mouth him either.  Just to say it like it was.  I loved every minute of it.  She was writing a piece of history like she was writing in her journal.  Very warm and heartfelt toward the man that caused her such pain.  Yet also expressing regret and giving an accurate explanation of a key part of music history.  There has been the John Lennon that Yoko has (commercially) promoted since his death and there is the real John before drugs overtook his life. She explains what life was like growing up in Liverpool in the 40s and 50s. We learn in the book why John would be attracted to a person like Cynthia. Why one minute he wants to be a better husband and the next he's going through a third party wanting a divorce.  Why would John be attracted to Yoko?  Can I spoil that one for you? John grew up in a controling, nothing's-ever-good-enough household raised by his aunt Mimi.  He found those characteristics subconsciously appealing in Yoko.  She herself had admitted aunt Mimi and her had a lot in common. This blew my mind as one of his fans.  Reading this book has made me destroy the pedestal I had put him on.  It also has made me view Yoko in a new light.  It was hard for Cynthia to say nice things about Yoko even though she tried. Why would that be a problem? Because in all honesty there is not much there to say. I hope Yoko is embarassed for the way she has acted toward John's family. Public opinion used to be so cruel to Yoko and I know that has cooled down in decades since his death.  Well everyone was right. She's got problems. This eye-opening book is must read for anyone who loves the Beatles or wants another reason to say that drugs destroy families. 

Too Sentimental for My Own Good

Do you ever have a day when you wish you could revisit the past?  For some reason, today is that day for me.  I e-mailed my childhood friend who lives in L.A.  telling him how much I missed him. Then, I wrote a poem about a long lost best friend I had in high school.  Not satisfied, I looked her up on the internet and her name popped right up (past searches never showed much). Years ago, I  tried contacting her through Classmates.com but wasn't sure if she got the message or maybe she didn't want to hear from me. So today for some reason, I got up the nerve to e-mail her. Now I'm very anxious if she will write me back.  There was never closure to our relationship, she moved to England and never told me her new address.  So why 11 years later should I care? There is something about our relationships in childhood that are so pure, so endearing that most adult relationships can't fulfill.  Those few adult friends I do have I don't take for granted, knowing how hurt I have been by people I thought were friends in the past.  Will my old friend brush me off?  I tend to have the ability to go to the past in my mind and recall things vividly.  I remember her like it was yesterday. In my e-mail, I wrote like we had only lost touch for a few months.  It hurts when people don't remember you the same way.  It makes the people who do, that much more special.

Is It 1957 or 2007?

There was a construction worker outside near my home a month ago talking very loudly to a guy inside the house they were working on.  My children and I were leaving our house for the day when I hear the worker make a joke with the N-word in it.  My first instinct was to shield my children's ears from a bad word.  Then I thought, this goes way beyond a bad word.  I put them in the car and made my presence known to the guy.

"I'm glad I'm not black." I said sarcastically.

He said,"Oh, didn't see you there."  (Obviously blind and ignorant)

"You need to watch your language."  I berated.

He brushed me off with a sorry and I starting fuming.

"Well it's not so much the language but the attitude that's behind it!" 

I was shaking as I got back in the car.  I'm not one prone to yell at strangers but it needed to be done. There have been racial incidents in our area in the past five years and I didn't want this idiot to think our community put up with it.  Well, nothing like what a Newsweek article recently published about a small town in Louisiana.  It was quoted that the community there still lives in the past and are going through a very tough time because of that. It mentioned parts of a high school were still traditionally segregated. Gimme a break! What's a good hearted white person to do when surrounded by ignorant white people?  Don't put up with it!  Tell those around you that hating or making fun of other people is not okay. Don't just laugh along with them to not make waves.  I feel better for taking a stand on what should be an archaic issue.

A Post for the Child Within

I can't speak for the young girls of today by any means. It's my understanding that by seven or eight, girls think Barbie dolls are for babies. They would rather worship the latest vocal artist by mimicking their wardrobe down to the exposing of a recently healed from birth belly button. This post is not for you. Let me show my age by saying "in my day" girls didn't grow up so fast. At six years old, I still enjoyed Sesame Street. I will even admit to you, my dear reader, that I enjoyed creating drama between my Barbie dolls until I was twelve. This would be considered "babyish" by today's standards. Now having a four year old daughter, we spend our time together playing Barbies. (Bratz dolls have way too much attitude to be allowed in my house.) I think back to the 80s and remember dolls and furniture I had then. I even would look on eBay sometimes and drool over what was once considered so unattainable. Women sellers even market their used product in such a way that they know women like me still want them. So, I will understand if you do not share in my excitement of what transpired over this weekend. I found a much coveted 1979 Barbie dream house. No Barbie "dream house" since has come close to this particular one for me. I would see these on eBay and they could go up to $200. No thank you. So a minute from my house at a garage sale, I spot one. I approach the purveyor of goods.

Trying not to show too much emotion, I say,"Is that a Barbie dream house?"

"I don't know," is her lackluster reply.

"How much is it?" I say as I'm expecting the worst.

"Five bucks."

It's in excellent condition but empty. I decide to push my luck, " Do you have any furniture that goes with it?"

"Oh I didn't think to get it out, hold on."

She proceeds to bring out a large bag of Barbie furniture in good condition, including a set from the 1979 edition. I call my mom afterwards like I won the lottery. I never call my mom unless it's to keep up on her health. She is very happy for me but declines to come over and play. After all, you can recreate the past, but you can't reinvent it.