I’m not a fan of talk shows. Don’t know why. I’m just not. Guess I’d rather watch movies, news and documents but my Mom was watching the Today Show when I heard the name “Julian Lennon.” So I couldn’t resist grabbing my coffee cup and finding a good seat right in line with the television.
A friend took me to see a Julian concert in the80s when I was already past the embarrassing teen years which were replaced by the akward “entering the 30s phase.” But this person didn’t mind that she was only three years my junior.
The evening was loaded with embarrassment when she decided to catch Julian’s limo though definately more fun that watching a documentary on the life cycle of a fruit fly.
I had to run like a track star to catch her as she bounded to an overpass that spread over the guarded parking garage. The entire time we sprinted in our four -inch boots and giggled like idiots. I could not believe what I was doing. For the first time in my life I wanted a shirt that read, “I’m with crazy,” with an arrow pointing to the right or left.
Now if this was back in the days when screaming fans made a bee line to JFK Airport to see the Fab Four descend from the jetway, then yeh, I would’ve been the loudest, rudest, craziest fan there. That is if as a five-year-old, I didn’t have my Mom standing in my way!
Before this day, the closest I’d been to a Beatle was in April 1990, I went to a Paul McCartney and Wings concert at the Greek Pavilion. I was able to contain myself. And thank God too! My husband found his own detractors in the shape of angry men who shouted,”Shut up! I didn’t pay all this money to hear you sing!”
Needless to say, we weren’t lucky enough to catch Mr. Lennon that day at the Shoreline Theater. But getting even that close to John Lennon, 40 years later was still a thrill that I will remember forever.






