Tag Archives: Yoko Ono

John And Yoko – Two Habs Virgins

I think it was their own special way of saying “Go Habs!”

john-and-yoko

I bought Two Virgins when I was in England in 1968, near the time of its release (which was only a few weeks before the release of the Beatles’ beautiful White Album), and before it was sold in America in a brown paper sleeve to cover up the body parts.

It’s a terrible album, consisting of John and Yoko shrieking and sending out other stupid noises that would make cats in heat sound like the Vienna Boys Choir.

At one point I sold it, which I’ve always regretted, probably because it was one of the few souvenirs I had of my trip to England. I hadn’t even brought a camera, which is the biggest regret.

I recently found this one at a used record store in Ontario, and even though it’s in rough shape, it was my chance to get the thing back. Even though it’s a ridiculous body of work. (“body”. Get it?)

I can’t imagine what the other three Beatles thought of this. Or John’s wife Cynthia, who was holidaying in Greece when Yoko came over for a sleepover at the Lennon home and contributed her body and shrieks to this thing.

How $150 Became More, Thanks To John Lennon

John-Lennon-Sometime-In-New-Y-541709

34 years ago today, John Lennon was shot dead. It sucked then and it sucks now. Below is a re-posting of a story I wrote a few years ago that, although unrelated to that dreadful evening and the days that followed, has a definite Lennon connection.

Years ago, through an autograph dealer in New York, I bought a little Rolodex-style Barclays bank card for $150, a card that had once been issued to John Lennon. This little card stated that anything under $200 in Lennon’s account could be withdrawn by his two lawyers without permission, but over $200 must be authorized by Lennon.

The card was signed by Lennon and the two lawyers.

I held onto this card for quite some time, but decided at some point to see what someone might pay for it, so I put an ad in an Ottawa paper and wondered what kind of offers might come up. Soon after, the phone rang.

It was a fellow in Ottawa who said he knew what the card was, he was a big Beatles collector, and said he had once played in David Peel’s band in New York, a band Lennon had jammed with and had produced Peel’s “The Pope Smokes Dope” album. He asked me if I would be willing to come to his place and have a look at what he had, and maybe make a trade. So I went.

The guy’s apartment was jammed with Beatles memorabilia, worth a large fortune for sure, and I could tell he really wanted my card. But if I was going to make a trade,  what he was offering better be good. And it was.

He showed me about half a dozen sheets of Lennon’s hand-written lyrics of songs from the “Sometime in New York City” album, and suggested that if I wanted, I could choose one if would part with the card. Oh yes, I thought. I’ll definitely do this.

I chose the song “New York City,” written by Lennon in pencil, with his little caricatures of himself and Yoko drawn on the sheet along with the lyrics. I was more than happy to make this trade.

It wasn’t long after that when my wife and I, just making ends meet, thought our dingy old basement would look fabulous if it was gutted and renovated. Our house was small, we had two young kids, and living space in the basement would double the size of the house. It was a lovely thought to have such an addition, so I made the decision. I’d sell the Lennon lyrics.

I sent a copy of it to Sotheby’s in New York, and they asked if they could see the real thing to assess it properly, so down it went by courier. Soon after they wrote back and said yes, it’s authentic, and they put a possible selling price of $2500. I knew that in the near future Sotheby’s would be holding a Lennon auction, the timing was right, and the basement needed serious work, so I told them to go ahead and sell it.

It sold for $7000.

I know what you’re going to say. Imagine if I sold it today, it would go for much, much more. But $7000 was a big score for us back then, it had only been a $150 investment in the first place, and we were happy. And the basement ended up looking like a million bucks, with new furniture, a new televison, and lots of shelving to hold my hockey and Beatles collections.

Eventually we sold this house, got a fine price for it, definitely because of the new basement, and moved to Calgary. And the extra money we got from the sale allowed us to buy a beautiful place in Cowtown, which I was able to enjoy for a solid three years before my wife left me.

Suitable For Framing

I was going to wait until the Canadiens and Leafs squared off before posting this great picture but I see that they don’t play each other again until Valentine’s Day which is a long way away. So I decided to put it up today instead.

A great old Habs/Leafs illustration on the cover of a 1949 MacLean’s magazine, created by Canadian artist Franklin Arbuckle and sent to me by Ed, a fellow who was at John Lennon’s Montreal press conference in 1969 and who handed John a Canadiens sweater and toque to wear, which you can see here – Lennon’s Habs sweater.

From Ed’s pile of old magazines – back in the days when players from opposing teams sat together in the penalty box.

image1

Update On John Lennon’s Habs Sweater

A year ago exactly I posted these great shots of John and Yoko with a Habs sweater John and Yoko on the Power Play, and what appeared to be number 5, and which I’d also assumed had taken place at the 1969 Bed-In for Peace at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel in Montreal.

Easy to assume. But it wasn’t number 5 and it wasn’t during the Bed-In for Peace.

Yesterday I received a comment that you can see below the pictures.

Boom Boom Lennon

John Lennon and Yoko Ono Receiving Gift

Here’s the new comment, from a fellow who calls himself Ed.

“Glad to see these photos on your blog.. a bit of a clarification.
1. picture was taken in Dec 1969 months after the bed-in in June.
2. The number on the jersey is actually 15.. Bobby Rousseau.
How do I know?.. I bought that game worn jersey at McNiece’s Sports for $15.00 (that’s what they sold for – new jerseys were $22.)…and presented to John as well as the toques that they are both wearing.

John and Yoko had just spent a week in Toronto…and I figured that it would really piss off Leaf fans if he showed up with a Habs jersey.. The photo made the front page of the Sports section in The Gazette or Mtl. Star the following day.

Mission accomplished… I wonder where that jersey is now?”

The Bell Tour, Habs HOF, And Jerry

Walked 11 kilometers today through the streets of downtown Montreal, the third time I’ve done this. Although my beer gut doesn’t seem to be shrinking, and I’d like to know why.

Excuse me while I go to the fridge for a beer.

I began at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel, where I believe I stayed the first time I was in Montreal, when I was about 12. Although it seems swankier than I remember. Maybe it had a lobby facelift in the past 50 years. Maybe I just think I stayed there.

It’s also where John and Yoko staged their Bed-In for Peace, so of course I rode the elevator to the 17th floor so I could see the door.

QE

John and Yoko

I walked for blocks, sort of in a big circle, and I stopped in at the Bell Centre where I visited the Habs Hall of Fame. I loved it so much. It just wasn’t big enough, that’s all.

When I saw game-worn sweaters of Morenz, Joliat, Emile Bouchard, Rocket, Beliveau, Harvey, Pocket Rocket, Lafleur, and others, I got quivers down my backbone.

When I saw Aurele Joliat’s little cap he wore while playing, I got the shakes down the kneebone.

Morenz

Joliat

Rocket's sweater

Harvey

Then I took a tour of the Bell Centre, which was another lucky thing. I didn’t know I’d be doing any of this when I approached the building. I was just kind of casing the joint and everything happened to be open.

And the weirdest thing happened during the tour.

Several years ago, a guy in San Jose named Jerry Chan emailed me and told me he grew up in Montreal and was a Habs fan when he was a kid, and from that email, we struck up a friendship, emailing back and forth often about hockey and Montreal and all kinds of good stuff. Then I didn’t hear from him for about a year.

Midway through the tour today, a  fellow from the group walked over and asked me if I had a blog. Then he asked my name. Then he said he was Jerry Chan! Imagine that! He said the only picture he’d seen of me was from a few years ago that I had posted from a time when I was in Russia, but for some reason, he figured it was me.

Real nice fellow, Jerry Chan. It was great to meet him after so many emails. Especially by accident like that.

pressbox

seats

This, of course, is the Canadiens’ dressing room, which, the tour guy said, is the smallest dressing room in the league, partly because they wanted to keep it as similar as possible to the Forum dressing room. The other part I don’t remember. Something about moving from the Forum after the season had already started.

dressing room

 

 

John And Yoko On The Power Play

My friend Robert Lefevbre sent me these pictures today of John Lennon and Yoko Ono in Montreal in 1969 for their seven-day Bed-In for peace.

I’d never seen these before. I love them.

Bernie Geoffrion wore number five from 1951 to ’64, and in 1968 Gilles Tremblay donned the sweater for two years, retiring just before these photos were taken.

Lennon, being a huge hockey fan of course, said the following. Or maybe I was on acid and just think he said the following.

“I don’t mind Fergy playing a rough style, but I can’t stand what Ted Green does, especially with his stick,” said John to the room packed with all types of people. “This sort of thing should be taken out of the game. That’s why I’m here for this Bed-In. To end violence in hockey. Give peace a chance.”

John and Yoko then started humming the Imperial Oil Hockey Night in Canada theme, joined by Tommy Smothers and Timothy Leary, two other huge hockey fans.

Boom Boom Lennon

John Lennon and Yoko Ono Receiving Gift

150 Bucks Became $7,000, Thanks To John Lennon

Years ago, through an autograph dealer in New York, I bought a little rolodex-style Barclays bank card for $150, a card that had once been issued to John Lennon. This little card stated that anything under $200 in Lennon’s account could be withdrawn by his two lawyers without permission, but over $200 must be authorized by Lennon.

The card was signed by Lennon and the two lawyers.

I held onto this card for quite some time, but decided at some point to see what someone might pay for it, so I put an ad in an Ottawa paper, wondering what kind of offers might come up. Soon after, the phone rang.

It was a fellow in Ottawa who said he knew what the card was, he was a big Beatles collector, and said he once played in David Peel’s band in New York, a band Lennon had jammed with and had produced Peel’s “The Pope Smokes Dope” album. He asked me if I would be willing to come to his place and have a look at what he had, and maybe make a trade. So I went.

The guy’s apartment was jammed with Beatles memorabilia, worth a large fortune for sure, and I could tell he really wanted my card. But if I was going to make a trade, it had better be good what he was offering. And it was.

He showed me about half a dozen sheets of Lennon’s hand-written lyrics of songs from the “Sometime in New York City” album, and suggested that if I wanted, I could choose one if would part with the card. Oh yes, I thought. I’ll definitely do this.

I chose the song “New York City,” written by Lennon in pencil, with his little caricatures of himself and Yoko drawn on the sheet along with the lyrics. I was more than happy to make this trade.

It  wasn’t long after that when my wife and I, just making ends meet, thought our dingy old basement would look fabulous if it was gutted and renovated. Our house was small, we had two young kids, and living space in the basement would double the size of the house. It was a lovely thought to have such an addition, so I made the decision. I’d sell the Lennon lyrics.

I sent a copy of it to Sotheby’s in New York, and they asked if they could see the real thing to assess it properly, so I sent it down by courier. Soon after they wrote back and said yes, it’s authentic, and they put a possible selling price of $2500. I knew that in the near future Sotheby’s would be holding a Lennon auction, the timing was right, and the basement needed serious work, so I told them to go ahead and sell it.

It sold for $7000.

I know what you’re going to say. Imagine if I sold it today, it would go for much, much more. But $7000 was a big score for us back then, and we were happy. And the basement ended up looking like a million bucks, with new furniture, a new televison, and lots of shelving to hold my hockey and Beatles collections.

Eventually we sold this house, got a fine price for it, probably because of the new basement, and moved to Calgary. And the extra money we got from the sale allowed us to buy a beautiful place in Cowtown, which I was able to enjoy for a solid three years before my wife left me.

What A Loser I Am

I got lost on my way to MLB spring training in Florida and ended up in the Yukon. I was too hungover on the days I’d planned on attending CFL camp. Manchester United’s letter never seemed to have made it. I was going to be a gymnast in the London Olympics until I found out it’s next month and I haven’t even started to train yet.

I chose making toilet doors at a factory instead of becomg the fifth Beatle because I didn’t like Yoko.  The Montreal Canadiens offered me work as stick boy and I though they said “ship ahoy” and I declined because I can’t swim. Bill Gates begged me to be his partner but I believed in typewriters. I missed accepting the Order of Canada because “The Bachelor” was on.

They warned me she had the clap but I thought it meant she liked to applaud after sex. I was once clocked faster than Usain Bolt but probably because I had to go number two. I worked long and hard to get Hardy Astrom into the Hockey Hall of Fame until I realized I had him and Ralph Backstrom confused. I could never understand how rabbits always won at greyhound races.

I moved to the West Coast to get out of the rain. It took me years to figure out that women don’t like guys who scratch their asses at formal gatherings. I was a Scott Gomez fan until I noticed that he was a player and not a pre-game flag kid. I lost my life savings after investing in Pinto limousines. I quit school in grade ten to follow my dream of going to Harvard.

I was informed via an official email that a prince in Nigeria wants to give me 8 million dollars so I sent the necessary $100,000 for administrative purposes and have now been waiting three years for the big money to arrive. Angelina Jolie asked me if I wanted to have sex and I said yes, do you know anybody?

And I’ve never been successful, no matter how hard I’ve tried, in getting Al Capone paroled.

What a loser I am.

Gaston Took The Time To Help Out

He’s a ladies man, a world-traveler, an ex-con, a horrible lecher, a big Habs fan, a nasty drunk, he can’t be trusted, and is a complete asshole.

Now I find out he was sort of a fifth Beatle.

“Gaston wasn’t a musician in the band,” says an Abbey Road spokesman, “but he ran everything. He looked after the groupies, the drugs, and the alcohol, and told the boys all they had to do was concentrate on their music. What a generous and gracious guy he was. Almost a saint.”

I also discovered that Gaston frequently told the four Beatles to leave Pattie, Maureen, Cynthia and Jane in his capable hands while the guys were traveling, which I thought was quite kind of him, as the ladies must have taken up a great deal of his time. And out of the goodness of his heart, even suggested that he stay with the ladies overnight so they wouldn’t be afraid when the boys were away.

He did, however, tell John to take Yoko with him as much as possible, for some reason.