Thursday, December 9, 2010
I've never gotten over John Lennon's death. The gunning down of a man whose music brought so much joy to so many people has always seemed particularly senseless to me.
Certain considerations further emphasize the cruelty and absurdity of his murder: that the killer somehow fashioned himself a "Catcher in the Rye," protecting little children; that John was finally resolving many troubling issues and emerging as a loving family man; that his "Double Fantasy" album celebrating his family life was recently released; that John signed a copy of the album at his killer's request hours before he died; that he loved living in New York, especially enjoying everyday activities like going to the movies; that he was only 40; that he spoke out for peace.
I remember taking part in a memorial service right after Lennon's death at the Bandshell in Central Park. Thirty years later, many of us have left a part of ourselves there.