Tuesday, November 18, 2008


Last Friday, C and I went to see Rain: A Tribute to the Beatles. I am sure there are a lot of Beatles cover bands floating around, but this one has to be the best.

The show made use of two screens on either side of the stage, which put you in the era by showing important pop culture clips with sound bites of the Fab Four, and of course - plenty of screaming, fainting, maniacal girls.

The band did five sets: Ed Sullivan show, Shea Stadium, Sgt. Pepper, Summer of Love and Abbey Road. They had perfect costumes and wigs for each set. My favorite was the Sgt. Pepper set.

It was so much fun. I didn't know what to expect so I was blown away by how spot-on the performers were, how much fun the show was, etc. We were up dancing several times, and there were plenty of women up dancing the entire time. All ages were there - some dressed up, too.

So, I spent the rest of the weekend reading about the Beatles on Wikipedia and learning more about them: good, bad and ugly. I knew a little about them having grown up with a sister that was a big fan, but there was lots I didn't realize or fully understand (or really care to), starting with that they were only together for like six or seven years. Crazy!

But through my reading, I realized something else was brewing: a piqued curiosity about one John Winston Lennon, leading to a book requested from the library. I'm scared of getting sucked in.

Which brings me to my point: why do I get so fascinated by dead men named John? Cash, Belushi, now Lennon... coincidence? I hope so. It has to be.

Me and my dead men named John. What is that?


  1. Recent Beatle gossip for you:


    No John included (for obvious reasons)...sorry.

  2. Uh, no. You and Jamie have that one on a lockdown.

  3. I would like to say something about your fascination with men named John--it was your choice of entertainment at Auburn as well--and they weren't dead. What was that about?


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