… with you last month, in honor of my favorite Beatle’s birthday (George Harrison – 2/25/1943). I used to adore Paul (I was a girl – he was sooo cute!); then it was John (I was angry – Lennon set my feelings to music/lyrics), now it is George (because the music is so beautiful, and I see cycles and patterns in cities, nature, myself, the world … and hints of my mortality. sigh …). – Rosalie Tirella
By William S. Coleman III
In the 1970 blockbuster film Love Story starring Ryan O’Neal and Ali MacGraw, two students from different classes of society, Oliver “Preppy” was rich and Jennifer, his love, was working-class they fell in love against the wishes of Preppy’s rich father. This movie takes us through a rollercoaster ride into the many emotions and deep feelings of the passions of love. From that movie comes the eternal phrase of young innocent love: “Love is never having to say you’re sorry.”
Love is an emotion for all times. When it’s good, it’s real good. But when you hurt from a broken heart or a deep trust has been broken or you feel someone has fallen short of your expectations, the hurt and pain will send you into a seemingly endless spiral of deep depression and regret.
Love is challenging. When I think of the music of love and how the lyrics talk to your heart. Continue reading For Valentines everywhere: Understanding love through music
By Rosalie Tirella
It’s true – every Baby Boomer knows where he or she was the night John Lennon was killed. I was in Worcester, in the passenger seat of my pal Jane’s little gray Honda. Jane and I and my other best buddy, Tracy, had spent the evening hanging out. Then, as Jane was driving down Lamartine Street in Green Island, to drop me back home, the news came on the radio: John Lennon shot – by some nut job in the lobby of the Dakota Hotel in New York City, where Lennon and his second wife, Yoko Ono, lived.
I gasped. Jane pulled over. And we both cried. We were around 18 or so and, for me at least, Lennon and the Beatles, were a talisman for me. The ticket out of Worcester. By that I mean mentally – emotionally. A lovely musical escape hatch.
The Beatles – through their songs – told me I could transcend the crumby three-decker apartment I shared with my family in Green Island. Through my imagination, through poetry and songs and writing, I could leave our tenement. Fly away on dreams of strawberry fields, walruses, yellow submarines. The Beatles collective imagination (musically and lyrically) was enough to blast a kid right out of her poverty and dangerously circumscribed world. Continue reading My John Lennon (for his 70’th birthday)