I was a sorcerer in AD&D. Here I hope to be interesting--at least to someone.

Monday, August 06, 2007

(Just Like) Starting Over

Today I had a flash of memory; John Lennon’s last big hit before he died, “(Just Like) Starting Over”, was swirling around in my head. I hadn’t actually heard this tune in several years, but there it was inside my head. It reminded me of an event in my past that started me moving down the road to cynicism.

I had always been something of an optimist in my life. Granted, I was young, but as any of my friends of that time could tell you, I was a “glass is half-full” sort of person.

Anyway, the song reminded me of the death of John Lennon. It probably reminded me of his death because the local radio stations played it hourly that week.

I remember the day quite clearly: 8 December, 1980. I was awakened by the clock/radio, alerting me to get up and go to school (junior high school; I did say I was young), when I heard the news that John Lennon had been shot and killed on the sidewalk next to his New York City apartment building. The report said that the shooter had been apprehended, but did not announce who he was at that time.

I wasn’t really upset by it; I was only 12, and I had yet to pick out my favorite musicians from the many whose songs were played on the radio. I did know who he was, however. John Lennon was my elder sister’s favorite singer, and as such, I was quite well aware of him, and the Beatles.

Given the popularity of the musician, I decided to tell everyone I ran across that day about the assassination. When I got on the school bus, I immediately told everyone around me about the shooting. The reaction of the students was blasé; most of them didn’t know John Lennon or the Beatles, and besides, they had more important things to think about, like their hair—was it straight?

When I got to school, I continued to tell everyone around about the shooting. The reaction I received was essentially the same as it was aboard the bus; nobody cared. Finally, I just shrugged my shoulders and went on with my life.

The next day was different.

I came to school via my parents—once again I had missed the bus—so I wasn’t prepared for the riotous show of despair that was going on today. Every student in the school was acting like the world was coming to an end. Hadn’t I heard? John Lennon was shot and killed yesterday! Why wasn’t I crying along with everyone else?

Needless to say, I was flabbergasted. These were the same people I had informed about John Lennon’s death only yesterday. The reaction I was seeing didn’t make sense—for a little while, anyway. Of course, no one remembered me telling them about this yesterday; admitting so would also be admitting their blasé reaction at the time.

The reason for the reaction they displayed today, was made clear soon enough. They had gone home, and turned on the TV. They saw the worldwide reaction to the shooting, not to mention their own parents’ reaction. This fellow was very important! He was extremely popular! And of course, the purpose of existence to teens during the 1980’s was to be popular. If you weren’t popular, you didn’t exist. Times really haven't changed that much; kids in school today act essentially the same way.

My own class put money together for a mural to the memory of John Lennon on the wall facing the main entrance to the school (the trophy case was moved aside to make room). Personally, I made no donation whatsoever for the mural. I was still annoyed at the display of artificial emotion that everyone was exuding.

This was the event that pushed me down the path of “bona-fide cynic” that I have reached today. Mind, I’m no longer angry at the people who directed me this way—I should probably thank them; I no longer let anyone pull the wool over my eyes. Sometimes, though, I would like to have that ingenuous child back in my life. He may have been blind to the world’s ills, but he also had an unknown, positive future to look forward to.