In My Life

Silver Dagger

2009-07-17T11:37:09Z

Part of a thread with John over at otherhalflive

I watched John flick through my record collection with a curious eye. I wondered how many of the people he would know about. He had met Joanie, Dylan and Donovan, knew Marianne a bit, but that had to be about it. He might not even recognise Dusty on the front of the Springfields' LP from before she grew her hair and went blonde.

Once John was done scrutinising my folk LPs, he picked a song and held the sheet out to me. I bit my lip in anticipation as I read the title of the song he wanted to hear. 'Silver Dagger'. Interesting choice.

"Ah, Joanie taught me that one. I'm not sure how much you'll like it though," I said with a wicked smile, appreciating the irony that my husband should pick a folk song that was so anti-men and anti-marriage.

I was surprised to find that all my nerves melted away the moment I began to play. I understood why. Playing for John was no different than playing for Joanie or Dick and Mimi, her brother in law and sister, or for Donovan or anyone else. No matter how better they were than me, people who knew and loved me would want to hear me play. And they might even like it.

After a short introduction, I began to sing:

"Don't sing love songs, you'll wake my mother
She's sleeping here right by my side
And in her right hand a silver dagger,
She says that I can't be your bride.

"All men are false, says my mother,
They'll tell you wicked, lovin' lies.
The very next evening, they'll court another,
Leave you alone to pine and sigh.

My daddy is a handsome devil
He's got a chain five miles long,
And on every link a heart does dangle
Of another maid he's loved and wronged."

I broke of singing then for an instrumental break, stretching out to see how much I could impress John with my figerpicking technique. I knew he wasn't friends with that many folk singers, so it was possible that he'd never seen anyone play guitar this way at such close range. I felt a shiver of excitement as I imagined his no doubt stunned reaction at the end of the song.

Before I resumed singing, I told him, "Joanie didn't teach me these next two verses - I found them on one of those records."

"I wish that I was some little sparrow
Yes, one of those that flies so high
I'd fly away to my false-true lover
And when he speaks, I would deny

"Upon his breast I'd lie and flutter
With my little tender wings
I'd ask him who he meant to flatter
Or who he meant to deceive

Go court another tender maiden,
And hope that she will be your wife,
For I've been warned, and I've decided
To sleep alone all of my life."

Resolutions.....

2009-01-02T11:27:19Z

In 2009, cyn_lennon64 resolves to...

Lose ten beatles by March.
Become a better john.
Go to the derek_taylors every month.
Drink four glasses of cyn_lennon64 every day.
Give up bob_dylan_1964s.
Put fifty mrgeorgemartins a month into my savings account.

lol

cyn_lennon64 @ 2008-12-13T16:58:00

2008-12-13T17:09:41Z

This is all set in the movie theatre towards the beginning of the story. There are a few gaps. [...] means either I'll cut to Jack and Monday at this point or I'll find a way to bridge the gap without jumping time periods.

"Cyn?"

A hand grasped her arm and she recognised her husband's voice but she willed herself not to turn around. He hadn't really seen her. She told herself that as she allowed herself to be lead onwards by the mysterious man. John called her name again and her hand was released before the grip returned to her arm. He was shaking her just that little bit too vigorously as he demanded to know what the hell she thought she was playing at.

Memories of the time he'd seen her dancing in a perfectly friendly way with one of their friends at an art college party. He'd dragged her out to the deserted corridor by the toilets and got even more worked up then this. She hadn't realised until after it had happened that all this anger would need to be vented in some way other than the verbal tirade he was already giving her. That's when it happened. He struck out and, after one terrified look, fled the scene.

[...]

He hadn't followed her. He'd seen she was upset and he hadn't even bothered to find out what the matter was. Knowing John, he might not even suspect that it was his over eager methods of questioning that had been the penultimate straw that had broken this long suffering camel's back. The final straw was, of course, this refusal to even make sure she wasn't going to throw herself out of a window in a desperate bid for his attention.

Somebody had joined her on her step. She knew exactly who it would be if it wasn't John and those boots certainly didn't belong to her husband. He put a tentative yet comforting arm about her shoulders and didn't complain when she pressed her dripping face into his jacket and dropped all pretences of remaining dignified by sobbing into a stranger's shoulder.

"I should never have let go of your hand," he was saying. "He didn't hurt you?"

Cyn shook her head. "No. No, he didn't. That was my husband."

"Shit," he said. "Seriously?"

That voice seemed so familiar, even with the little he was actually saying. It had to be him. She needed to look, needed to check. Cyn raised her head and was met with two startlingly blue eyes. She was immediately taken aback. She'd had no idea his eyes were that colour and, yet, they were all that was needed to tell her it was definitely him. Cynthia wanted to look away then but couldn't quite bring herself to twist her face away from his. This desire and inability to fulfill it made her want to tear her eyes from his all the more and that made it all the more difficult to actually do so.

They were too close. That was the thought that rushed insessently through her head. Not that he seemed to mind at all. When he did look away, at long last, it was to glance over his shoulder to make sure they were still alone. She had the chance, then, to take in his clothes. He should by rights have stood out like a sore thumb in this world of tuxedos and posh ties and how on earth he'd found his way in without being stopped for being informal or being recognised by some fan or journalist, she couldn't even begin to guess.

The kiss, when it came,
[...]

Brian Epstein had witnessed enough of this scene to know he had trouble on his hand. John Lennon's wife kissing another man at such a public event as her husband's film premiere was not something the papers were likely to miss. A lot of string pulling would be involved with this. The paper's were willing to protect the boys' reputation up to a point, but, as much as that fact pained him, Brian knew that there generosity would not stretch to poor Cynthia.

He was debating with himself about whether now was the right moment to step in, when the two figures on the stairs pulled apart. Brian was not at the right angle to see Cynthia's tear streaked face but what he did see forced him into action. The man who had been kissing John's wife, the man who still had his arms around her and was caressing her bare shoulder was not just some man who could be bought off for some reasonable price. This was Bob Dylan.

Idiot Wind

2008-12-11T20:57:42Z

Someone's got it in for me, they're planting stories in the press
Whoever it is I wish they'd cut it out but when they will I can only guess.
They say I shot a man named Gray and took his wife to Italy,
She inherited a million bucks and when she died it came to me.
I can't help it if I'm lucky.

People see me all the time and they just can't remember how to act
Their minds are filled with big ideas, images and distorted facts.
Even you, yesterday you had to ask me where it was at,
I couldn't believe after all these years, you didn't know me better than that
Sweet lady.

Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your mouth,
Blowing down the backroads headin' south.
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth,
You're an idiot, babe.
It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe.

I ran into the fortune-teller, who said beware of lightning that might strike
I haven't known peace and quiet for so long I can't remember what it's like.
There's a lone soldier on the cross, smoke pourin' out of a boxcar door,
You didn't know it, you didn't think it could be done, in the final end he won the wars
After losin' every battle.

I woke up on the roadside, daydreamin' 'bout the way things sometimes are
Visions of your chestnut mare shoot through my head and are makin' me see stars.
You hurt the ones that I love best and cover up the truth with lies.
One day you'll be in the ditch, flies buzzin' around your eyes,
Blood on your saddle.

Idiot wind, blowing through the flowers on your tomb,
Blowing through the curtains in your room.
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth,
You're an idiot, babe.
It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe.

It was gravity which pulled us down and destiny which broke us apart
You tamed the lion in my cage but it just wasn't enough to change my heart.
Now everything's a little upside down, as a matter of fact the wheels have stopped,
What's good is bad, what's bad is good, you'll find out when you reach the top
You're on the bottom.

I noticed at the ceremony, your corrupt ways had finally made you blind
I can't remember your face anymore, your mouth has changed, your eyes
don't look into mine.
The priest wore black on the seventh day and sat stone-faced while the building
burned.
I waited for you on the running boards, near the cypress trees, while the springtime
turned Slowly into autumn.

Idiot wind, blowing like a circle around my skull,
From the Grand Coulee Dam to the Capitol.
Idiot wind, blowing every time you move your teeth,
You're an idiot, babe.
It's a wonder that you still know how to breathe.

I can't feel you anymore, I can't even touch the books you've read
Every time I crawl past your door, I been wishin' I was somebody else instead.
Down the highway, down the tracks, down the road to ecstasy,
I followed you beneath the stars, hounded by your memory
And all your ragin' glory.

I been double-crossed now for the very last time and now I'm finally free,
I kissed goodbye the howling beast on the borderline which separated you from me.
You'll never know the hurt I suffered nor the pain I rise above,
And I'll never know the same about you, your holiness or your kind of love,
And it makes me feel so sorry.

Idiot wind, blowing through the buttons of our coats,
Blowing through the letters that we wrote.
Idiot wind, blowing through the dust upon our shelves,
We're idiots, babe.
It's a wonder we can even feed ourselves.

Positively 4th Street

2008-12-11T19:44:22Z

You got a lotta nerve
To say you are my friend
When I was down
You just stood there grinning

You got a lotta nerve
To say you got a helping hand to lend
You just want to be on
The side that's winning

You say I let you down
You know it's not like that
If you're so hurt
Why then don't you show it

You say you lost your faith
But that's not where it's at
You had no faith to lose
And you know it

I know the reason
That you talk behind my back
I used to be among the crowd
You're in with

Do you take me for such a fool
To think I'd make contact
With the one who tries to hide
What he don't know to begin with

You see me on the street
You always act surprised
You say, "How are you?" "Good luck"
But you don't mean it

When you know as well as me
You'd rather see me paralyzed
Why don't you just come out once
And scream it

No, I do not feel that good
When I see the heartbreaks you embrace
If I was a master thief
Perhaps I'd rob them

And now I know you're dissatisfied
With your position and your place
Don't you understand
It's not my problem

I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
And just for that one moment
I could be you

Yes, I wish that for just one time
You could stand inside my shoes
You'd know what a drag it is
To see you

Like A Rolling Stone

2008-12-11T19:43:14Z

Once upon a time you dressed so fine
You threw the bums a dime in your prime, didn't you?
People'd call, say, "Beware doll, you're bound to fall"
You thought they were all kiddin' you
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hangin' out
Now you don't talk so loud
Now you don't seem so proud
About having to be scrounging for your next meal.

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be without a home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

You've gone to the finest school all right, Miss Lonely
But you know you only used to get juiced in it
And nobody has ever taught you how to live on the street
And now you find out you're gonna have to get used to it
You said you'd never compromise
With the mystery tramp, but now you realize
He's not selling any alibis
As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes
And ask him do you want to make a deal?

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

You never turned around to see the frowns on the jugglers and the clowns
When they all come down and did tricks for you
You never understood that it ain't no good
You shouldn't let other people get your kicks for you
You used to ride on the chrome horse with your diplomat
Who carried on his shoulder a Siamese cat
Ain't it hard when you discover that
He really wasn't where it's at
After he took from you everything he could steal.

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

Princess on the steeple and all the pretty people
They're drinkin', thinkin' that they got it made
Exchanging all kinds of precious gifts and things
But you'd better lift your diamond ring, you'd better pawn it babe
You used to be so amused
At Napoleon in rags and the language that he used
Go to him now, he calls you, you can't refuse
When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose
You're invisible now, you got no secrets to conceal.

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone?

cyn_lennon64 @ 2008-12-04T10:40:00

2008-12-04T10:45:14Z

I'm sorry I haven't been on this week. I've been in trouble with my parents for staying up too late and so they haven't let me on the internet since Monday. Hopefully I'll be able to post to various places this lunchtime before I go home and I might get my computer back this weekend. Maybe.

Story extract - written today

2008-11-19T22:15:50Z

With a Beatle as her husband, an expensive and huge new house, a two year old son and another baby well on the way, Cynthia surely has everything a young woman could want. When asked if she is happy in her extremely enviable life, she replies, "Very, though things do get difficult with John being away so often."

"Poor Cyn," he murmured softly as he lay the magazine across the table and took a sip of coffee.

"What are you reading?" his girlfriend asked lightly. She turned the magazine towards her a little so she could see it a bit better.

"John Lennon's wife. The way she has to pretend to be so happy all the time when he's always leavin' her or ignorin' her or hurtin' her. She's such a nice girl. It's not fair, really."

His girlfriend made sympathetic noises as he went on to give her some examples of how Cyn was treated by her husband. You could tell she truly felt sorry when she tilted her head and nodded that way. Not like with some people. And she didn't demand to know why he cared so much about some other musician's wife. She simply understood. Not only that, but she made it clear she understood.

She even wanted to hear what Cyn had to say once he'd told her a bit about her. She asked him if he would read the article to her and he nodded.

Though she is now eight months pregnant, Cynthia hasn't slowed down much. She has hired a cleaner to help with the housework but still afull time mother to her son with John. She is wearing a large paint covered shirt when we arrive at the house and tells us that she has spent the morning preparing the nursery for the imminent arrival of the couple's second child. She shows us into the room, surprisingly large considering it is meant for a child and freshly painted in a pale shade of blue.

"I know I've left it a bit late but the time has just slipped away from me," she says with a carefree smile as she absentmindedly caresses her baby bump.

In spite of the colour she has painted the walls, Cynthia is convinced that her child is going to be a girl. "I have my heart set on having a daughter and all through my pregnancy I've just had this feeling that she's going to be a girl. I must have looked at a million girls' names but hardly thought about boys' names at all."

When asked what names she has picked out after all this thought, she smiles again and answers, "Cordelia is one I've thought about a lot. John took me to see a play a while ago with a character called Cordelia and I haven't wanted to call her anything but that since. Well, except perhaps-"

The reader was interrupted mid-sentence by his girlfriend commenting on what a nice name Cordelia was, implying that she approved of Cynthia's taste in names. He nodded and said, "It is."

Inside his head, there were all sorts of thoughts about what this choice of name might mean. He wondered if she was trying to give him some sort of clue by suggesting she wanted to name her daughter after the daughter who remained loyal to her father, even after he banished her from his kingdom. Was she allowing him to hope that his daughter, whether she was called Cordelia then or something completely different, might want to seek him out and get to know him.

He scratched his head and went on reading.

"- except perhaps Angelina."

She goes on to tell us the story of how she discovered this name. This time she took the name from an unreleased Bob Dylan song, a source as far removed from Shakespeare's tragic heroine, who provided Cynthia's other favourite name. Our more musically minded readers might consider the privilege of hearing such rare songs one of the main advantages of being married to a world famous musician.

Cynthia would appear to agree with this sentiment, as she tells us, "We're very lucky to get to hear these sorts of things. John gets on quite well with Bob, so I've heard a few treats that not many other people have. I just hope Bob won't mind me borrowing his name."

The reader paused to take this in. It had been his intention in sending the song to Cynthia that she would understand who the song was written for and would use the name. He was glad that the plan seemed to have worked out but he just wished it had been safe to ask her directly. But he was never alone for long enough these days.

His girlfriend smiled and asked if he did mind. All he could do for a while was shake his head dumbly. When he did eventually find his voice, he admitted that he was, in fact, flattered.

Either name would be good, he thought, but he really hoped she did use both of them because he kept running over the names in his head and he thought they sounded perfect together. Cordelia Angelina Dylan. But, of course, it would be Lennon. It would always be Lennon. Never would she have his name because she would grow up as someoneelse's daughter. He had thought that by keeping a distance he could stop himself feeling any real pain over that. But here it was.

It wasn't really driven home until he read on. He skipped ahead a little, to where they were asking her what she'd name the baby if it turned out to be a boy. The answer was simple. And utterly heartbreaking.

"Robert. It would have to be Robert."

He swallowed hard. He knew he wouldn't be able to read on any further than this. Putting the magazine down, it took all his strength not to give into all these strange feelings right there in the middle of the bustling cafe.

His girlfriend reached out for his hand and lay her own impossibly small and delicate looking hand over it. She had been watching him the whole time he'd read with those deceptively sad eyes but now she used the full power of them as she asked softly what was wrong.

"It's nothing. No, it's not nothing. It's something, but, Sara, I don't think I can-"

She nodded. Oh, how badly he wanted to tell her all of what was on his mind. About Cyn, about the baby being his and about everything. He almost did begin to tell her, but she beat him to it with her own "There's something I need to tell you" and he let her go first. He listened to her and nodded and understood what this meant. And so the gentle-voiced Sara told Bob Dylan the news that he knew meant he was going to be a father for a second time. He accepted the fact there and then, even before before he'd become a father the first time round.

rewriting of the party thread (rough)

2008-11-01T00:42:57Z

How many other women had John danced with apart from her? To be honest, she'd lost count. By now he seemed to have settled on Cilla Black. And a very jolly time the two of them seemed to be having too. Cynthia hunched still further over the table, her back turned to the dancers so she wouldn't have to watch her husband and the singer.

She could hear the mutters from people she did and didn't know as they passed by her lonely table. She was annoyed at every single one of them. The strangers for their nerve to presume they knew how she thought and her friends for gossiping behind her back and not even checking to see if she was all right. The truth was that she wasn't all right at all. In fact she'd even go so far to say she was desperately unhappy. And not one person had come up to her.

Perhaps if they had, they'd have realised that Cynthia was crying softly as she gazed numbly at the table.

If she really was having a baby and the timing, which she'd tried again and again to find the fault/flaw in, was in fact correct, Cynthia concluded that she was in a lot of trouble.

She couldn't even carry off a one night stand properly. She'd allowed herself to slip up and sleep with another man and now all the signs that told her she might be pregnant pointed towards him being the father.

Would it be better not to be so sure of who this baby's father might be? Could it really be preferable to this certainty? She reasoned that at least that way she could pretend for a while that the baby was definitely her husband's. But instead she had to contend with the awful knot of guilt in her stomach and a part of her mind that was already resigned to the fact that this was the consequence of her actions.

But what exactly could she do about this situation?

She pushed the door to the bedroom open and was met with the sight of two dark figures moving together on the bed. Cyn backed out of the room hastily, both from embarrassment and from fear that she would recognise one of the figures as her husband.

Cynthia found the sofa was now deserted and flopped down on it gratefully. She remained there until someone shook her awake roughly and led her to the taxi waiting outside. She wasn't fully aware that she was on the way home until the car arrived.

Is John already here, she wondered to herself, and, if not, where on earth is he?

cyn_lennon64 @ 2008-10-31T22:12:00

2008-10-31T22:21:42Z

My story has reached 10000 words and there's still plenty more to come! I'm rather pleased with myself at the moment. I might post another extract (this time starring Cyn) if anyone's interested in reading it. All you have to do is nag me and I'll post something.

I'm changing the narrative from 1st person to 3rd person as I adapt it. This gives me a chance to do something a bit different with the text I'm playing with. It's interesting seeing Cynthia from a different perspective and I definitely think this mode of narration works better in story form.

Daddy You Been On My Mind - Extract 2: Jack & Monday 2

2008-10-18T22:18:52Z

Jack gazed curiously into Monday's face to check if she really had fallen asleep. He was surprised to see that she was still wide awake and staring straight up at him. Her eyes awash with tears buttheeuphoric expression on her face showed him they couldn't be born from sadness. At least not entirely. The album had moved him too, a great deal more than he thought it would, and he'd almost lost the unconscious battle against his own urge to cry.

"You felt it, didn't you?" Monday asked as she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.

"Yeah, I felt it stronger than I ever have before." Jack wrapped his arms around Monday and she settled into him as easily as if they'd been lovers for years rather than merely hours. He placed a kiss on top of her head before resting his cheek and whispering into her wild curls, "Thank you."

Oh, how much did he wish he could be there the next night she listened to this record and the next but that was clearly never going to happen. You didn't pick up a pretty girl for the night and then decide you wanted to go out with her properly. That just wasn't how it worked. Besides, the sort of girls who'd spend the night with him weren't really the sort of girls he'd want glued to his arm wherever he went. He was glad to see the back of them after that one night.

Monday was different in that respect. He just wished he'd realised how well he'd get on with her before diving in dick first. They might have become friends. At least then he could have kept on seeing her, always with the hope the initial friendship with give way into something more. Now he'd either have to forget about her or begin an awkward friendship or relationship with a near-stranger.

Daddy You Been On My Mind - Extract 1: Jack & Monday

2008-10-17T20:18:27Z

Jack began to flick through her record collection. When the first few discs he turned up were those of Bob Dylan, Joan Baez and Woody Guthrie, he suspected he was seeing a pattern. But from there on in, things got interesting. Smiley Lewis, Fats Domino and Bob Wills & His Texas Playboys. In response to his questioning look, she told him they'd been recommended by a friend. He also spotted some Pink Floyd and Queen in there, two groups he heartily approved of, as well as a great number of 60s bands. No albums by the Beatles, though. Now that confused him. For someone who was clearly such a fan of music from the 1960s, to not have anything by the Beatles just seemed completely nonsensical.

"Where are all your Beatles records?" Jack asked her as he wandered over to the bed with the only Dylan album he'd found among the pile. It was one from a few years ago, when Bob was still a bit mental with that whole Christian phase. Jack had heard he was over that now but you never could be sure with Dylan.

"Oh, that's not my full collection," Monday said with a glowing smile. "That's just what I've been listening since the last time I was arsed to tidy up. Didn't think I'd have company tonight."

"So where..."

With a casual shrug of those delicate shoulders, lifting her hair ever so slightly and letting it tumble teasingly back over her breast, she said, "All that stuff's away with the rest of my Da-Dylan albums."

Jack tore his eyes reluctantly away from her to glance at the record again. It wasn't the first one he'd have chosen, quite frankly. His musical tastes had fallen out of sync with Bob Dylan's in recent years.

"But you've been listening to this one?"

"Every night before I go to bed," Monday told him with a wistful smile. "Or I'll listen to Every Grain of Sand at the very least."

"I don't think I know that one," he confessed sheepishly. Once upon a time, he'd been the one insisting to his disbelieving friends that this John Lennon album or that Bob Dylan song would change their lives forever. Now he couldn't even keep up with the man's recent work.

"Well, you must hear it. You absolutely must!" Monday told him, her pale eyes suddenly alight with blue fire. "Every time I listen to it, I think you'll understand this, it gets me right here."

And she lay a hand over her heart. Jack carefully covered he hand with his own. Slowly, he slid his hand to cup her breast as her mercury mouth moved to press against his.

"I do understand. I used to get that feeling, but I haven't for such a long time."

America

2008-07-14T11:51:27Z

Arriving in America, a proud Brian Espstein standing with us.

In the garden with John

2008-07-12T15:09:44Z

Lennon vs. Dylan Part 2

2008-07-12T12:18:58Z

More pictures comparing Johnny and Bobby. More to come whenever I come across them.

THE hat

John in shades

Dylan in shades

Acoustic guitar

With their harmonica contraption

Smoking and plying

Polkadots!

From The Times, August 26, 1967

2008-07-11T07:50:16Z

Quotes from John's half-sister Julia Baird

2008-07-10T22:57:38Z

When John met Cynthia we knew that something had happened; we knew that some great thing had happened although we didn't quite know what. John was totally on edge and disappearing and then eventually, I do remember him hanging out of the window at Mendips in his bedroom waiting for the bus, and I was there with Mimi that day, and he was waiting for Cynthia to get off the bus from Penny Lane.
She came in and I thought she was absolutely beautiful and of course she is. She's got that sort of bone structure that if she's a hundred she'll be beautiful. She's just a beautiful woman isn't she? She's beautiful inside and out, she's a lovely lady. I don't think anyone who knows her would disagree with that.

She did get blonder and blonder, but she was being Brigitte Bardot. I think Paul had Dot go blonder and blonder cause Paul's girlfriend was a friend of Cynthia's.
Cynthia has explained about her relationship with John and how it got off the ground. They'd met at art college, mainly it seems by John borrowing her things all the time, and I can see that happening, and the sort of well known by now, asking Cynthia to go out and she said 'I've got a boyfriend' and he said ' I didn't ask to marry you did I?' I can see that too.
They were instantly fast and furious. It was all love and lust wasn't it? All lust and love, whichever way you care to put it, Cynthia didn't have an earthly chance. John was going to have her good style - and he did. And before long of course, she was pregnant.
I do remember John being told you don't have to marry her John; you don't have to do this. I know that Mrs Powell, that's Cynthia's mother, also told Cynthia, you don't have to get married. So they didn't get married because it was a shotgun wedding. They got married because they wanted to, because I remember John saying: "I want to marry her, what's the matter with you all?"
And then another memory is of Julian being brought home to 'Mendips' for the first time - this tiny, tiny, tiny baby. Cynthia did actually come back to live in 'Mendips' for a time. I was in the kitchen peeling apples for Mimi and she said: "I'm going to see John in his flat this afternoon. (John and Cynthia's flat in Penny Lane) He wants to come home." I said: "What are you going to do Mimi?" I was only a child and she said: "Well I'm just thinking how I can divide the house up." And that's what she did.
Mimi went upstairs with the Baby Belling cooker, which she put into John's bedroom. There were two other big bedrooms up there so the front bedroom became her sitting room; the back bedroom where she always slept was her bedroom. John and Cynthia moved in downstairs and the back sitting room with French windows on to the back garden became John and Cynthia's bedroom and the front living room became their living room.
Everybody in that house lived in the morning room, which was right next to the kitchen so that's where they mainly were. So they stayed there for, I don't know, I could be guessing, nine months I'd say, but I could be wrong.
John was touring and he was doing Hamburg and we often had Julian then. We would come home from school and just see the pram in the hall. We were round the corner remember, and we'd know that we had Julian because Cynthia had actually gone with John on one of these trips.
If you look on the Internet you'll find letters that John was writing to Cynthia from Hamburg and from Los Angeles talking about his love for Cynthia and the fact that he missed Julian. He wanted to be a better father - remember they were still together; - wanted to see more of him. "I must stop reading the papers when he's about and he's awake. I must give him more attention" what any young father might say when he's away and he's missing them and I have actually sent those to Julian, I hope he's got them.

Found: http://sentstarr.tripod.com/beatgirls/cynquote2.html

Quotes

2008-07-10T22:55:30Z

"I met Cynthia at art school. She was a right Hoylake runt. Dead snobby. We used to poke fun at her and mock her, me and Geoff Mohammed. 'Quiet Please,' we'd shout, 'No dirty jokes, It's Cynthia.' We had a class dance and I asked her to dance. Geoff had been having me on, saying, 'Cynthia likes you, you know.' As we danced I asked her to come to a party the next day. She said she couldn't. She was engaged." - John Lennon

"John asked me to dance and I nearly died. Bingo! I then amazed myself by being very cool, calm and collected outwardly-inside I was out of this world. The dance was slow and smoochy. I was aloof and John, I think, was slightly embarrassed. It was all very painful and beautiful at the same time. The remaining students were looking on with puzzled expressions at such an unlikely combination." - Cynthia Lennon

"We used to take the mickey out of her, but John always said he fancied her. He called her Miss Prim. He was certainly always attracted to her from the first time he saw her in the canteen." - Thelma Pickles

"I was triumphant at having picked her up. We had a drink and went back to Stu's flat, buying fish and chips on the way." - John Lennon

"She was very pretty-Bardot like. I used to look at her from across the canteen and then I heard she had been caught by that shit Lennon. They looked at eachother adoringly, totally fixated." - Michael Isacson

"He wanted total commitment and I was pleased to give it. If I as much as looked at another man, he would go mad and say, 'Who's he?' in a moody voice." - Cynthia Lennon

"I was hysterical. That was the trouble. I was jealous of anyone she had anything to do with. I demanded absolute trust from her, because I wasn't trustworthy myself. I was neurotic, taking all my frustrations out on her. She did leave me once. That was terrible. I couldn't stand being without her." - John Lennon

"George and Paul both thought it a great laugh that John was so keen on Cynthia, the lovely girl who used to go to art school with him. Even then, four years before they married, they were crazy over each other. Cyn used to travel thirty miles a night from her home in Hoylake just to sit by the stage of the Casbah, listening to John playing with us." - former bandmate Ken Brown

"Postman Postman don't be slow! I'm in love with Cyn, so go man, go!" - John Lennon on envelope to Cynthia.

"When John was with me, it was total commitment. Whatever he did outside our relationship didn't seem very important. We were together such a lot of the time that whatever other affairs he had once we met couldn't have amounted to much because I was with him most of the time. He kept me in Liverpool as late as I dared stay." - Cynthia Lennon

"They were totally opposites but right for eachother, and although they came from different backrounds, they were a perfect match. I think they would have obviously taken longer to get married, but it would have happened. They loved eachother very much. There was no separating them" - Phyllis McKenzie (mutual friend)

"I fell in love with Cynthia. It's as simple as that." - John Lennon in a Beatles interview

"It's not like we denied it. It's just no one asked us." - John Lennon regarding marriage to Cynthia.

"We were both sort of bowled over by the fact that we were married. It wasn't a question of 'Have we done the right thing?' It was all perfectly natural that we should be together. But John didn't get a real chance to be first a real husband or later, a real father. Once he got on the Beatles bangwagon he couldn't get off, even if he wanted to." - Cynthia Lennon

"John needed to escape his reality. I understood completely but I couldn't go along with him." - Cynthia Lennon regarding John's drug taking.

"The beginning of the end." - Cynthia Lennon regarding John's drug taking.

"It was at this point in our marriage that I realized that unless I joined the club, we weren't going to survie, so I succumed to one of John's never ending requests to take LSD with him. I didn't want to but I felt that I had to save our marriage. I also believe John in his own way was doing the same. During my trip John was marvellous. But whatever happiness and awareness John gained through it, I didn't. I hated every moment. It was hell on earth. The hallucinations sent me into a panic. Through my tears and fears I would look at John in the hope that he could in some way help me out of the prison my mind had become., only to see the man I loved turn into a giant mule with razor sharp teeth leering and laughing at me. All the time John kept telling me he loved me and would never leave me. All I could reason was that I was definitely going mad. It was something I never wanted to experience again." - Cynthia Lennon

"I lost John to drugs." - Cynthia Lennon

"It was said I never loved Cyn. That's far from the truth. We were young, bigheaded, and got into a physical relationship too soon. Perhaps if we took things slow we would have made it. I know we would have made it." - John Lennon 1974

"Cynthia's grown up with it, with me." - John Lennon

"There were definitely two sides to John...his softer side came out in his initital love and tenderness for Cynthia." - Pete Best

"People say Cynthia was a mundane, hometown girl, 'mumsy' - your average Mrs Liverpool. That's a load of nonsense. Cynthia was a highly talented woman in her own right. She painted, she drew, she sculpted, she designed." - Julia Baird John's sister

Found: http://sentstarr.tripod.com/beatgirls/cynquote.html

John Lennon vs. Bob Dylan - a picture comparison, part 1

2008-07-09T21:25:38Z

I would like to introduce you to my husband, John Lennon, and my ~~secret lover~~ ahem close friend, Bob Dylan. They're both quite shy underneath their cool exteriors, so forgive them if they try to hide now they've realised what I'm doing.

Looking impossibly young and vulnerable (awww)

Did someone just get out of bed?

Making smoking look sexy

Nice hat, that. I should like a hat like that.

I'm really diggin' the shades, boys.

Hat and dark glasses. Anyone get the feeling John is trying a little bit too hard to be ~~get my attention~~ be like ~~Bobby~~ Dylan here?

Cheer up, lads! It's all over (for now, at least).

Johnny: Phew, never do that again Cyn.

Bobby: *Cheers loudly*

1964 - On the plane to America

2008-07-08T13:02:17Z

On the way to America with John. Trying to catch his eye while he remains oblivious. Alas, this happens all too often.

1967 - Cute Holiday Picture

2008-07-08T11:11:10Z

1964 - With John

2008-07-02T13:40:48Z

On the way to America with John.