At first it was because our names were the same (I was a typically self-centered 12-year-old kid), but soon my favorite Beatle mantle was permanently draped on John. His sardonic acerbic wit and his clever wordplay along with edgier vocals (edgier than Paul) fit the image to which I aspired.
He could be an ass. But, his harmony vocals on songs like ‘8 Days a Week’ and irony-laden latter-day songs like ‘Working Class Hero’ as well as sensitive non-treacly songs such as Julia more than make up for his ass-ininity.
The news that John had been shot came via Howard Cosell on Monday night football. The world really didn’t stop or turn on a dime, but the idea that one of the BEATLES was mortal, especially John, still feels unnatural. Beatles 4ever, you know.