Anyone whom I’ve allowed to truly know me knows I love the Beatles and more specifically, John Ono Lennon.

Flashback to December 9, 1980: I was exactly a week shy of my thirteenth birthday when I walked into the classroom to find my teacher crying buckets and pressing rewind on her tape deck. I had no idea what was going on that would make my normally stalwart yet compassionate teacher forgo teacher-student protocol but it made me curious to say the least.

As John himself said, his last album, Double Fantasy, was about him and Yoko and was also oriented to people of his generation, which I, almost thirteen, 27 years younger than him, was not. Still, as an alienated, immigrant teenager struggling to find my way, what I managed to read about him, Yoko and the Beatles in that pre-Internet age, spoke to me in such a way it still resonates to this day, when I am older than he was allowed to be.

Yes, I am in my feelings about the Beatles and John Lennon. So here are videos:

As I wrote above, I am 27 years younger that JOL (John Ono Lennon) which means that I am, partly, of the (real) punk generation.  What does that mean? It means that this is one of my favorite songs of “his”. It means that I not only don’t have a problem with Yoko’s vocals in this song but actually, truly, enjoy it.

 

This.

As someone who has shut a significant amount of doors (aka just had to let them go) in order to raise my son in a way that will allow his black nerd self to thrive in this nation which has consistently refused to respect life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, watching the wheels go round and round is devastating and heart-breaking. Yet the fact that the wheels go round and round means that what is up will come down and what is down will come up and in that vein, it doesn’t significantly  matter, that people (family and friends) call me lazy because I, currently, do not work outside the home (folks don’t consider blog posts and writing poetry to be “actual” work).

 

I include this one because JOL could be a perfect asshole lyrically when he was enraged. In other words, he was not perfect and I embrace his imperfections (especially because time has proven “Sir” Paul to be a perfect wanker). I could, possibly, embrace “Sir” Paul’s imperfections except I can’t bear to listen to him. So it goes. I am not perfect, either.

 

This…because I’m a womanist and because JOL “perfect assholeness” includes how he treated women. And also, because he recognized that he needed to acknowledge, publicly, that, yes, he profoundly loved Yoko but also that their relationship broke him out of the prison that was Beatlemania. Before Yoko, he expressed his angst about Beatlemania with semi-trite songs like Help and Nowhere Man. After he met and got involved with Yoko, it was All You Need is Love and Imagine, etc. She was his muse in ways that Beatlemaniacs still don’t acknowledge or respect to this day, 36 years after his death. Kudos to Yoko for staying her path.

 

 

Miles Lennon

January 11, 2016

He brings Miles.
I bring Lennon.
Both of us side-eyeing
the other;
both musicians atrocious
to women
but in his eyes, race trumps gender
each and everytime.

I don’t know what to do with that
except throw it away.

So I do
feeling kind of run down
voodoo blue
Nobody told me
about instant karma.

Something, Not Nothing

December 1, 2015

Earlier today I was hit with the desire to post a blog but I had no idea what to write about. I inquired of my resident expert “What do you think I should blog about?” but then we got busy getting him to the barbershop and then school. Errands were needed to be run. A book to be bought. And now it is post 5pm. My child, who had the whole of last week off from school [we are no longer homeschooling although he does attend a self-directed learning school] in observance of a national holiday we don’t celebrate used the time to wreck his schedule by turning into a Minecraft night owl, is asleep. Mother Nature and Daylight Savings has turned the 5 o’clock hour into nighttime and I am having a glass of wine as I type this.

But let me backtrack for a minute. It is imperative (yes, imperative!) that I state that the errands mentioned above included finally getting the glasses I desperately need in order to read my dearly loved books without having to resort to large print! But … it turns out I don’t know how to wear glasses. Let me be more precise. I don’t know how to see through bifocal glasses. I wanted glasses that enabled me to continue reading but turns out I needed “distance” glasses as well. So the science of the matter dictated that I got bifocal glasses that I don’t know how to see of. The optometrist told me to “raise my head and lower my eyes” in order to read. You should see me trying to do it. I look like someone who hears, and feels, the beat of music but can’t quite get the rhythm right enough to head nod without looking spastic. If every video (or picture) I took of myself didn’t come out absolutely awful, I would show you but they do so you’re just going to have to trust me.

I mentioned above that the errands I had to run included buying a book. This is the book:

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Triggers are usually seen as a negative but in the case of A Year of Yes, the triggers “yes” set off are positive. I’m not going to go into all of them but I will say one of them: John Lennon’s first encounter with Yoko Ono. John’s Yoko-sponsored trip into the world of yes started with that meeting. I flirt with yes; have philosophical conversations with yes and now with this book, Shonda has become my metaphorical Yoko. What might I accomplish if I spend 2016 positively, consciously, saying yes? I’ve said no plenty. Maybe it’s time to flip the yang, so to speak.

So….this is how you write about “nothing”. When I was in high school, I used to have conversations with teachers outside of the classroom. One teacher told me when I have nothing to write about, write about nothing. This is me writing about nothing. But what is really nothing? How can you quantify nothing? You can’t.

But yes? Yes is something. Saying yes is something. And I am saying something, not nothing.