९ ऑक्टोबर, २००४

John Lennon.

I've written about John Lennon a couple times in the last week, but today is his birthday--I don't care that it would have been his 64th--and I'd just like to take note of that. I've loved John Lennon ever since The Beatles arrived on the scene. I vividly remember one day in the fall of 1975 listening to his wonderful album "Mind Games" all day, then going out to eat that night with two young men--old acquaintances--at our favorite hidden away little East Side restaurant Residence. We were seated at a little table in a niche next to a large round table set in the window alcove.
Don't look now, but John Lennon and Yoko Ono are sitting at the next table.
And yes, they were. I can figure out that it was the fall of 1975, because Yoko Ono was very pregnant (Sean Lennon was born in October 1975). Did we go over and talk to them? No! Maybe if they were passing on the street you could say something to them, but here they were in the middle of eating dinner. It just didn't seem possible. But shouldn't the fact that I was listening to "Mind Games" all that day give me a special dispensation? It seemed that it should, but still it felt quite wrong to intrude, and we did not. Nevertheless, it was a huge thrill just to sit so near him for so long.

The postscript to this anecdote is that I sat at the very same table on another occasion, around the same time, with my brother and a friend of my brother's (whose name I can't remember). Midway through the meal a young woman rushed up to my brother's friend in a state of ecstasy and began hugging him, gushing about how much she loved him and had all his records. We were kind of drunk and didn't know what the hell was going on. Later, in a state of sober reflection, I realized that my brother's friend did look quite a bit like Bruce Springsteen.

So did I or the ecstatic young woman have the more intense personal engagement with her musical idol?

३ टिप्पण्या:

Randomizer म्हणाले...

You had the better experience. You could observe your idol at close range, with no pressure or opportunity to screw it up.

I was a huge fan of Kurt Vonnegut, so was thrilled when my niece invited me to attend a lecture he was giving at her university. On the day, she told me to come early because the Literary Club, of which she was president, was having a meet-and-greet with Vonnegut.

There were a few dozen people attending, with Vonnegut, for an hour. I met him, said something trite or stupid, had a brief conversation, then wanted to kill myself. Vonnegut was perfectly pleasant. I was just stuck on trying to say something meaningful, but he has heard it all a million times.

What would you have said to John Lennon? Or would you not try to say anything memorable, and just say that you liked his music?

Ann Althouse म्हणाले...

Yeah, good point, Randomizer. If I had done anything to interact with him, I'd have to feel bad about having intruded, and for what? I could only have said something stupid. I would have attempted to say something about having listened to "Mind Games" all day, but I'd have had to say it quickly, and he'd have had to care to try to understand me, but it was obvious that understanding me would have meant nothing compared to his interest in being free to have dinner in a restaurant without being accosted... especially when Yoko was so pregnant.

Biff म्हणाले...

I've randomly encountered some celebrities and major public figures a few times when they were just walking on the street or having dinner. There have been times that I've given them a nod if the context felt right, though usually I just ignore them. The handful of times where spoken words were appropriate, it was small talk, i.e., no different from what I would have said to anyone else with whom I was sharing an elevator. They seemed relieved at being treated like a "regular" human being. I do think that celebrities should be able to "clock out" and live like civilians when they're not performing or speechifying or doing whatever they are known for.

Side story 1: I was having dinner with some friends in a tiny Manhattan restaurant when the staff put up the "closed" sign and turned off the store's outside lights, even though it was still pretty early. A few minutes later, Woody Allen and Soon-Yi walked in with one or two others and sat down at the next table. Our respective groups ignored each other for the rest of the evening, which suited everyone just fine.

Side story 2: For a time, I was a very minor celebrity in a certain subfield of mental health. I gave a talk at a conference for mental health professionals and support organizations about my experiences, including some very personal anecdotes. For the rest of the conference, people were coming up to me and telling me how brave I was, how important my story was, how much I had helped them, etc. I did my best to be gracious and appreciative, but it got very tiresome very quickly. I was only at the conference for a few days, but it really was quite a relief to get on a plane and return to anonymity. I can only imagine what it must be like for a real celebrity, even one who thrives on attention.