I heard this 1970 song for the first time in the summer of 1980 on the radio, when I was guilted into visiting my divorced father in South Dakota. I was 15; my father, living in Air Force baracks, spent my entire visit from Texas haranguing me about whatever, then drunkenly jacking off in the next room. I don't think much of John Lennon now, but at the time, when I was 15, I thought he was bold and mighty. I was thrilled when I heard this song.
After Lennon had been shot to death the following December of that year, my father made yet another call to my mother's house (part of a continual series of traumatic calls to the house post their 1977 divorce). This time, to neurotically question me: "You wouldn't care if I were dead." I didn't say it at the time because I was a scared, puzzled kid, but today I don't think I would be so polite: No, I really wouldn't give a shit. Lennon was never mean to me, you asshole.
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