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273 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 15, 2020
When this book came out, I immediately decided this was something I would never read. John's murder felt like a death in my own family, I couldn't listen to The Beatles for many years without feeling some sadness. Why revisit old pain? Here's why. And this sounds a lot like one of those "apart from that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play?" jokes. 1980 was one of John and Yoko's best years ever, certainly one of John's best. I don't want to give it all away so I won't describe the story. But in 1980 John overcame the fear that he'd never again be able to write and perform music and regained his confidence so that by the beginning of December, he was in a much better place as a person and musician.
I knew about John's future plans before reading this book. I read the final interview with him the day before his killing. So it had always made me sad that the happy days that he thought lay ahead, his growing old with Yoko, would never be. What I didn't know and now do, is what pleasure he got during that final year. Kenneth Womack tells of what the preceding few years had been like (not the best) and how dramatically different 1980 was for John. I'd swear it was like being in the room with John for those eleven months. And what a joy that was. Even his last night at the recording studio with Yoko was special.
There was no foreshadowing of what was to come to ruin the story. If you were reading this and somehow didn't know about the events of December 8th, they would have been a sudden surprise. And these were dispatched with briefly and in a dignified matter, you'd just lost a friend and you learned a bit about how others managed their grief and in a few pages it was over.
So, thank you Kenneth Womack. For sharing some happy memories of John that I didn't know about and that made me smile. The bad stuff I knew, it didn't add to my pain. I'm glad for having shared 1980 with John and Yoko.
"So all these leaders ... are all substitute fathers, whether they be religious or political … All this bit about electing a president! We pick our own daddy out of a dog pound of daddies. This is the daddy that looks like the daddy in the commercials.
'He’s got the nice gray hair and the right teeth and the parting’s on the right side.'
OK? This is the daddy we choose. The dog pound of daddies, which is the political arena, gives us a president. Then we put him on a platform and start punishing him and screaming at him because Daddy can’t do miracles: Daddy doesn’t heal us; we don’t feel better. So then we move the daddy out in four years and we get a new daddy."