December 8, 1980

I remember that day. I have kind of an uncanny memory - I remember things from when I was quite young, which people always seem surprised to hear, but which is true. On December 8, 1980, I was four. I remember the news, the people gathered in Central Park, crying. I remember my mom being really sad, too. I remember asking her, "Why are those people crying?" And I remember her responding sadly, "Because they loved him," And then I remember asking, "Why?" And her responding, still sadly, "Because he was very special." And that always stuck with me. My brother lived in the building next to the Dakota for a couple of years, and I never visited him without thinking of it. I never passed Strawberry Fields without remembering the crying people gathered there.

I could go on a rant about how celebrities now are devoid of substance as compared with John Lennon. But I choose to believe that's not true. Sure, there are vapid idiots out there, and sure we're all idiots too for obsessing about them. But before John Lennon emerged from Liverpool, who could ever have guessed the impact he would have? Therefore, isn't it possible that the next great artistic genius is just around the corner? I like to think it is. I like to hope so.