After getting married on March 20, 1969, John Lennon and Yoko Ono proceeded to have possibly the strangest honeymoon ever.
From their room in the Amsterdam Hilton (room 902, the Presidential Suite), they held a series of press conferences each day from March 25 to March 31. Between 9am and 9pm each day, they invited the press into their room, where the couple discussed peace (especially in regards to Vietnam) while sitting in their bed. The wall above them was decorated with signs reading “Hair Peace” and “Bed Peace”.
It’s unclear exactly what effect, if any, this all had on the outcome of the Vietnam War. If nothing else, Lennon’s astute use of his celebrity to get his message out certainly helped to raise the issue’s profile, although it’s arguable he was preaching almost entirely to the converted – by 1969, pretty much everyone already had an opinion about Vietnam…
By Eric Koch / Anefo – <a rel=”nofollow” class=”external free” href=”http://proxy.handle.net/10648/ab63599e-d0b4-102d-bcf8-003048976d84″>http://proxy.handle.net/10648/ab63599e-d0b4-102d-bcf8-003048976d84</a>, CC0, Link
As mentioned in:
The Ballad of John and Yoko — The Beatles
One of the most controversial relationships in modern cultural history, John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s love began inauspiciously, as an affair (Lennon was already married at the time) characterised by the usual deception and unthinking cruelty of such things, and notable for Ono’s miscarriage in 1968 (a few weeks after Lennon’s divorce). With Ono, Lennon became more activist, protesting the Vietnam War in particular.
The two were married in Gibraltar, and their honeymoon was spent in the Hilton Hotel of Amsterdam, conducting their now-legendary Bed In for Peace. How much influence Ono had over Lennon in the ongoing dissolution of the Beatles in this era remains a matter of dispute. There seems little doubt that she may have exacerbated existing strains, but it is unlikely that she was solely responsible (as some have claimed). Lennon and Ono would remain married until Lennon’s death in 1980.
By Joost Evers / Anefo – <a rel=”nofollow” class=”external free” href=”http://proxy.handle.net/10648/ab63feee-d0b4-102d-bcf8-003048976d84″>http://proxy.handle.net/10648/ab63feee-d0b4-102d-bcf8-003048976d84</a>, CC0, Link
As mentioned in:
The Ballad of John and Yoko — The Beatles
Prudence Farrow (younger sister of Mia Farrow), came to study under the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi at his ashram Rishikesh for the same reason everyone else did in the late Sixties: seeking enlightenment via Transcendental Meditation. The members of the Beatles arrived there a few weeks later, and became fast friends with her – especially John.
Farrow was notoriously serious about her meditation practice, and routinely stayed in her room meditating long beyond the assigned times for classes and sessions – up to 23 hours a day, in fact. Lennon in particular made efforts to drag her out into the world, to remind her that the point of meditation was ecstatic union with the world, not separation from it. She would need to be reminded to attend meals at times.
Although much of “She’s Leaving Home” is fictionalised in its details, the heart of the story – a teenage girl runs away from home – is accurate. Moreover, Paul McCartney’s lyrics capture the emotion of the event, from both the girl’s point of view and that of her parents.
The true story that inspired McCartney was published on the front page of the “Daily Mirror” in 1966, and concerned a 17 year old girl named Melanie Coe. Sadly, Coe’s freedom was short lived, and she returned to the home of her parents less than a fortnight later.
Originally recorded for “Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band”, it was instead decided to release “Strawberry Fields Forever” as a double-A side with “Penny Lane”. It is widely regarded as one of the best songs the Beatles ever made, and one of the greatest exemplars of psychedelic rock.
The song was a top ten hit in the UK and the USA, and reached #1 in Norway and Austria, and was finally included on the “Magical Mystery Tour” album release. It remains one of the most popular Beatles songs, frequently covered by other artists. After John Lennon’s murder, a memorial was created for him in Central Park, New York City, and named after the song.
The County Borough of Blackburn was, in 1967, the governing body of the Blackburn area. Blackburn is an industrial town in Lancashire, but one that was declining as a result of the cotton industry’s slow fading away. Perhaps it shouldn’t be a surprise, therefore, that in that year, the roads in the borough had 4000 potholes in them – one for every 26 people living in the affected area.
The newspaper story about this incident, extrapolating from these figures, calculated that there must be two million such potholes in Britain’s roads, with 15% of them (300,000) in London. The fact that there are 4000 holes there is probably the single most widely-known fact about Blackburn, although presumably at least some of them have been repaired in the nearly 5 decades since John Lennon drew them to our attention.
A song from the album “Revolver” (or, in America, “Yesterday and Today”), “Doctor Robert” is a somewhat autobiographical song about the way that the Beatles’ touring schedule was somewhat fuelled by drugs.
Somehow, it doesn’t seem to get much airplay.
It was the Beatles’ first American tour, and it was more than a little crazy. The Fab Four were young and still new to fame, and America was in the midst of the upheavals of the Civil Rights movement. It was a tense time, adding additional stress to that of touring and being far from home. Ringo Starr received threats from anti-Semites who thought he was Jewish – and those threats were sufficiently credible that the band decided not to stay in Montreal after playing there on September 8, choosing to fly out that night for Florida.
But Florida had problems of its own, most pressingly, Hurricane Dora bearing down on it. The Beatles’ flight to Jacksonville was diverted to Key West, and they were stuck there until the storm blew out. They landed at around three in the morning, and McCartney and Lennon, too keyed up to sleep, got very drunk in their motel room, with both men eventually reduced to tears and professing their love for each other. Hurricane Dora’s threat abated soon after, and the Beatles played Jacksonville on September 11 to a racially mixed crowd.
It’s not true to say that Sir Walter Raleigh – privateer, nobleman, favourite of Queen Elizabeth I, soldier, sailor, explorer and unsuccessful quester for the fabled city of El Dorado – killed more men than cancer.
However, as the man generally credited with the introduction of tobacco products to England – where they became popular at court, thus guaranteeing their spread throughout the rest of the nation and rival European courts (fashion is a harsh mistress) – he should at least be thought of as one of cancer’s most able accessories before the fact.
It would be nice to say that he died of lung cancer, but actually, he was beheaded in what many believe to have been a political maneuver aimed at placating the Spanish (whom Raleigh had fought during the Armada incident and the related war), and something of a miscarriage of justice (since King James, Elizabeth’s successor, did not have much love for her former favourites).