Further ramblings of a self-made pauper

Morning, Folks.

Monday again, just as we were all getting fed up with free time, work wheels its way around again!

Hurrah! How handy is that? Almost as if it had been planned that way.

Of course, since it's not yet 8.30am, nothing has happened of note to write about, but we can't have everything.

Of interest (perhaps) to Beatle historians, I found this snippet on Tony Levin's website: an audio clip of John Lennon directing the production of (Just Like) Starting Over in 1980. Interesting throwaway comment about the bass (or maybe not since Levin is the bass player), which makes you wonder just how much was real and how much propaganda in the stories that L&M had made up their differences before the former died.

While I'm at it, I believe today is the first day of Spring (Oo La La). Or is it tomorrow? When is the Vernal Equinox this year?

When Elvis died in 1977 a lot of people of my acquaintance were devastated. Some said they felt as though they'd lost a close family member. Not me; I thought they were bonkers. I knew they were bonkers with the resolute certainty of my full 18 years.

Three years and some months later, I knew how they felt. I don't understand, even today, how a person can get so attached to someone they only know from the media, but you can.

The morning of 9 December 1980 was the first time I recall hearing news and knowing that it was a 'where were you when' moment. I was 21 and in my final year at college. My alarm radio woke me up, at just after 7am and the station - Beacon Radio - was playing Beatles songs. It was still half an hour before I had to be down for breakfast, so I lay back and enjoyed it. It was only after I realised that they were playing Beatles song after Beatles song interspersed with Lennon solo material, that I began to wonder. Why nothing by Wings, or George (or even, bless him, Ringo)? And then of course the news came on.

I skipped lectures and spent the day in the bar of the Student's Union with Helen and John. We dressed the Christmas tree for the week's social events culminating with the end of term party. And the radio played Beatles songs.



It's not quite the same as when someone you know or related to dies, but it is odd how much our heroes mean to us. I still don't understand why.

Twenty-five years ago today.