Everybody had a favorite Beatle. Mine was John. His
death was devastating.
Dec. 12, 1980 Gusto tribute
For John Lennon, mere stardom wasn't the point.
Perhaps
the extraterrestrial villain Ming the Merciless has taken control of earthly
affairs, just as he demonstrated on his pushbutton panel in the "Flash
Gordon" film. Earthquakes, volcanos, financial cataclysms, starving
refugees, petty wars and Russian troops camped on the Polish borders.
If not
Ming, then what sent an angel of death flying halfway around the world to keep
an appointment with John Lennon Monday night? Was the accused Mark David
Chapman hearing voices?
Had it
been any other former Beatle, the grief wouldn't have been as severe. Certainly
the loss of chipper Paul McCartney would be profoundly saddening. The passing
of mystic-gone-Hollywood George Harrison would inspire a somber shiver. And the
effervescent Ringo Starr would be a quick fizz in "People in the
News."
But
John Lennon was the mainspring of the Fab Four. Without him, there wouldn't
have been the Beatles. He founded the band, he was the nominal leader and when
the breakup came at the end of the '60s, it was because John couldn't see the
point in taking the Beatles concept any farther.
His
cynical wit was forever scorching the candy-fluff facade of popular music, both
in his lyrics (consider the offhand "then I lit a fire" at the close
of "Norwegian Wood") and in his public statements. The Beatles were
in it for the money, he said. Elvis Presley never put it quite as plainly as
that. But it turned out to be much more.
The
Beatles unexpectedly tapped into the wellspring of hope and idealism that
bubbled in the post-World War II generation. They blew apart old social
structures with their hair, their clothes, their attitudes and their
experimental lifestyles. Their music became a continual adventure in discovery,
each record daring to go where pop songs previously feared to tread.
Their
most significant breakthrough, however, was the way they changed the role of
the popular singer. The Beatles proved that popstars could be artists too and,
as artists, they could have integrity. Integrity is always on the line. There's
more than irony at the end of "Get Back" when John chuckles, "I
hope we passed the audition."
By
achieving creative control over their records and financial control over their
affairs, the Beatles set a pattern popstars have followed ever since. This and
the maniac fun of their first film, "A Hard Day's Night," made
becoming a rock 'n roll star respectable and stunningly attractive. Thousands
upon thousands got guitars and learned how to play, even as John Lennon was
discovering that the dream wasn't all it was cracked up to be.
Being
spokesman for a generation turned into an awesome responsibility. Worldwide
acclaim became an endless hassle, a trap which he was determined to escape. He
began by seeking a higher consciousness, first via Eastern mystics, then by
casting his fate with Yoko Ono, one of the few women in the world he could
approach as an artistic equal.
With
Yoko, he finally found the love he'd sung about. Together they took up the
cause of peace and understanding in an ear wrenched with Cold War tensions and
the heat of Vietnam. John's retreat, first from the Beatles, then from stardom
and ultimately from the recording studio, was his way – and perhaps the only
way – of easing the pressures and establishing a balance in his life.
Somehow
this was revolutionary too, turning his back on the merry-go-round and cleaving
closely to Yoko and their son. In the Me Decade of the '70s, John Lennon the
house-husband was demonstrating the nobility of giving oneself to home and
family.
When he
and Yoko re-entered the recording studio this year, the subsequent album,
"Double Fantasy," was briming with the peaceful strength of this
devotion. After all those years of aspiration, anger and controversy, it seemed
John Lennon has discovered the key to life on this mortal plane. Just as he
once put up billboards announcing, "Peace is here, if you want it,"
he was ready to got forth and tell the world it could do likewise.
Like
others in history who set out to let the world in on a cosmic vision, he's been
silenced before he could finish. He leaves a formidable testament. The rest is
up to us. And if you're behind this, Emperor Ming, then we've got a score to
settle.
* * * * *
IN THE PHOTO: Uncredited photo of John Lennon from November 1980.
* * * * *
FOOTNOTE: Dale Anderson’s Sunday Brunch, my radio show
on WZIR-FM (Wizard 98.5), ran from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. on Sundays, which meant
that I was on the air to observe the 10 minutes of silence that Yoko Ono had
requested as a tribute at 2 p.m. on Sunday, Dec. 14. I spent part of those wordless 10
minutes shedding tears.
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