Today I'm thinking about John Lennon and his death thirty years ago. Was that truly his destiny or a random happening? Who can say.
Yes, I'm a Beatles fan. We were lucky enough to live in London during the early '60s and swinging it was. Those were the days when I reveled in striding down Bond Street wearing my newly-sewn Courreges-style mini-dress and my knee-high (flat-heeled) white boots. Those were the days of discos when I could twist the night away. Ah yes! Ah youth! If it came down to it though, I was more for Paul than John. Seeing as Paul's squeeze (Jane Asher I believe it was) lived around the corner from us, I hoped to catch a glimpse of him on my way to Oxford Street or the British Museum, but it never happened.
Recently I've read a bit about the Beatles' history, probably on the Guardian. The commentator mentioned what a miracle it was, given the extreme pressure on the group, that they didn't split up earlier. I started to think then about the different life directions John and Paul took and how they influenced the culture of the day and the entire world. And I'd say my preference is still for the latter. How about you?
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