He Won a Square of John Lennon's Carpet

I was driving down into the city tonight and I was listening to my favorite album, Kid A by Radiohead. As I heard the ghostly echoes of Morning Bell reverberating off the sides of my car and bouncing onto the brick buildings around my eyes started welling up with tears.

I sit and wait at the light, a single tear streaming down my cheek, as I think

about why Radiohead makes me cry, and why Radiohead is always something very special to me.

Music is special to me because that’s how I bonded with my family. I learned everything I could from every one of them about music, especially my brother.

My brother liked to collect memorabilia and he had a TON of Beatles memorabilia, including a supposed square of carpet taken from John Lennon’s hippie van or something. ?Anyway, it ended up disintegrating at a certain point and I think he threw it away….oh that makes me sad….😭but then again, how the fuck did we KNOW if it was ACTUALLY John Lennon’s carpet? 🤨🤣

He won a trivia contest at this place called the Beatles museum in Virginia Beach, which was right next to the Abbey Road restaurant, so yes, we had to go there every year in the summer when we went to the beach. But we got sidetracked. Anyway, he collected all sorts of Beatles memorabilia (he had some Sgt Pepper dolls, a blow up yellow submarine, posters, old records in pristine condition, you name it.)

He was interviewed by the local paper and got a spot in the Entertainment section, a 12 year old boy talking to grown ups about his Beatles collection and his massively insane amount of music knowledge for someone his age. (That’s where I learned all my weird and obscure music facts that I know, after all).

Anyway, this evening as I was listening to Morning Bell and seeing the red and green traffic glow across the pavement as I trudged forward in old reliable (my beat up 2009 Hyundai accent that still drives somehow). I smirked and looked down an empty dark alley as I passed.

I thought about my brother because he lives down in the city near there, too. I thought what if I find him today, and he’s on the street? What will I see, where will he be, what will happen?

I don’t know the answer to those questions anymore, because I stopped letting my brother control every aspect of my life. I had to stop worrying about what would happen to him, because I needed to take care of myself. I needed to heal. I spent a long time not healing, not letting myself heal.

I never felt that my feelings were valid or real and so my feelings and my emotions disintegrated like that mysterious carpet that may or may not have belonged to John Lennon…

P.S. (I’ve always wondered why someone would want a random piece of carpet from someone’s van or house or whatever. Why is humanity so fascinated with wanting the most random things from famous people? 😂I mean while we’re at it, I’ll take Paul’s toothbrush 🪥… I rest my case)