I actually didn’t hear the news until the following morning. My clock-radio was set for 6 am so I could go running before work (yes, really…) and when the radio came on the first thing I heard were those three bells at the beginning of this song and then a voice telling me John had been murdered. It was hard to even know how to feel so I did what I always do in times of awfulness, which is basically shut down. I got up, got dressed and drove to the public pool near my house (in case you were wondering where I was running mid-winter in Winnipeg – the pool had an underground track). I ran. I couldn’t feel anything but I knew I just had to keep doing normal things until I could allow myself to feel again.

It was just too much to take in. Like so many I had grown up with the Beatles. 7-year-old me had a big crush on Ringo then, as I got older, I kind of skipped over Paul (too pretty) and George (eyebrows!) and became infatuated with John. Those glasses, his dry humour… he was just so cool! After the breakup I didn’t really follow the others like I followed John’s life and career. And then, just when it seemed like he had found some goddamm peace and purpose in his life… fuck. FUCKFUCKFUCK.

When I saw someone post on Bluesky it had been 45 years I was like… omg 45 years! And you know what’s the worst thing? Nothing has changed. I mean, while the players may have changed, the game remains the same. But you know, just imagine…