[The Poet]

On this date, thirty-five years ago, I was working in Midtown Manhattan. I spent a good part of the morning mourning, looking out the windows from the 46th floor of 9 West 57th across Central Park towards The Dakota. At lunchtime I walked up Central Park West to that famed apartment building and joined the swelling crowd outside. I was in a thousand-dollar Italian suit, and some others were dressed as nattily, but most were clothed in jeans and Ts or flannel, parkas and ponchos. A few were singing softly, but most were standing silently (as was I), not knowing what to say or do, not knowing exactly why we were even there, staring blankly at the building towering over us in shock and grief, hoping perhaps to show our sympathy, and a connection both to the man, his survivors, and each other. After fifteen quiet minutes or so, I turned and left, to return to my mundane job and existence. Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on . . . at least for us.

Those of you who weren't alive, or weren't old enough in 1964, to truly know what Beatlemania actually was will never understand. It was a phenomenon unlike anything seen since, and perhaps never before. True, there reportedly was a Lisztmania in the 1840s, but this was mainly an upper-class European event. Yes, Frank Sinatra drew large raucous crowds outside hotels, as did (somewhat oddly) the duo of Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis. And it is also certain that the 1956 appearance of Elvis on The Ed Sullivan Show marked an immediate sea-change in popular music, transitioning it in one culture-shifting night from the era of Tin Pan Alley to the age of rock-and-roll. But The Beatles rocked, figuratively and literally, Western civilization in a way unprecedented in history by anything short of revolution or war. It WAS a revolution of sorts, and within months it all-but dominated social, cultural, and even economic trends and thoughts across the nation, and around the world. Don't talk to me about Michael Jackson, Taylor Swift and Katy Perry, or Justin Bieber or One Direction. These were just pimples on the butt of Beatlemania.

I was at The Dakota that day for myself, because I felt a need impossible to resist. I was there for my friends, near and far in space and time, who could not be there for themselves. I was there for my sister, who had perforce had to divert a bit of her devotion from The King from Tupelo to The Lads from Liverpool. And, if you wish, I was also there for you too, paying respects forward from the past for those I'd yet to meet.

I put this under General Discussion instead of Entertainment for what I think good reason. The Beatles were more, much more, than just a band of musicians. They were earth-shakers and time-shifters, and were impactful far beyond their songs. Still, it is their songs we have today, and thus I urge to pick one, or several, to listen to today. Which? I dare not say, and hesitate to even recommend. You might choose from Rubber Soul or Revolver, albums that marked their transition from a band of musicians to a confederation of artists. You might go with selections from Sgt. Pepper, arguably the single most influential album ever released, by anyone. You could pick the eponymous The Beatles, aka The White Album, touted by many as their magnum opus. Or perhaps you can choose my personal favorite one, Abbey Road, much of which is composed of seeming fragments of songs stitched together with genius to produce an operatic masterpiece. But whatever you decide, from Love Me Do to Let It Be, you'd be hard-pressed to go wrong.

I hope you still rest in blissful peace, John Lennon. You were taken from us . . . from ME! . . . far too soon. Imagine what more he might have given us, had he not been so cruelly and so senselessly snatched away.