I Met the Walrus_ How One Day With John Lennon Changed My Life Forever - Jerry Levitan [11]
Entering the hotel I saw a crowd of people trying to get into the ballroom theatre. On the left I saw red satin ropes that created a line up to a desk with a sign that said “VIP.” I went there and saw Johnny Carson enter to applause. When I got to the desk I told the person there my name. She looked in a box and handed me a ticket and a badge. I walked in, past the crowds and security, and walked right up to the front row and sat down in the middle.
I sat there all night and took pictures. Emboldened by my role of press man, I walked right up to Jerry and snapped away as he was talking on a microphone. It did not dawn on me that this was live and I was between him and the camera and millions of viewers. At a certain point in the evening, a blond kid a few years older than me asked me during a break who I was and why I was there. I told him that I was a huge fan of Jerry Lewis and flew down from Toronto to see the show. “You want me to introduce you to my Dad?” he asked. “Sure,” I said. “Hey Dad,” the kid called. Jerry Lewis walked down the stairs. “This kid came from Toronto to see you.” “Hi,” Jerry Lewis said to me in that familiar trebly tone and proceeded to walk right back up the stairs. I loved it. Classic Jerry Lewis. I realized that day how easy it was to follow my dreams. I came back to Toronto to the shock of my parents, which changed to amazement when the photos were developed.
A copy of the invitation to the Jerry Lewis telethon, which led to my first trip to New York.
But, still, the largest part of my self-definition at the time was my devotion to the Beatles. I never missed an opportunity to tell any new friend how great they were and how much I knew about them. I used to go to parties with my record collection and no matter what was on the stereo at the time, I would confidently walk up, take it off, and put one Beatles album or another on the turntable. I would do that in the middle of another record being played to hoots and shouts. It got to the point that I was told that if I kept doing that I would not be invited to parties anymore.
It was sometime before the double White Album that I followed John and got granny glasses. The fact that John was sporting the simple round lenses made me feel more confident to let the world know that I could not see very well either. It made me more like him—witty, cocky, smart. John’s new look was heralded in Rolling Stone magazine’s premier issue in November 1967. There he was on the cover brandishing a helmet and British Army standard spectacles, from a still from Richard Lester’s black comedy How I Won the War. Lester was the director of A Hard Day’s Night and Help! and convinced John to play a spaced-out British soldier. With no Beatle project underway and no concert tour, John accepted. The end of touring saw each member of the Beatles pursuing personal ventures. Paul composed the soundtrack to a British film, The Family Way. George grew a beard, studied eastern philosophy, and hung out with Indian musicians. Ringo pursued an acting career and sported a full and drooping moustache. The Beatles were starting to think about the unthinkable—individual lives.
In addition to John’s glasses, I began wearing clothes like the Beatles. My brother was more stylish and had the trendier clothes. I would wait for him to leave for school first so I could swap what I was wearing for his latest buy. He caught on to me pretty soon when he would see me strutting about with his shirt. I started walking around in loose white pants, white peasant shirts, and sandals. Becoming more and more discerning in my selection of clothes, I managed to emulate the Beatles in hair, spectacles, clothes, and swagger.
The year 1969