I Met the Walrus_ How One Day With John Lennon Changed My Life Forever - Jerry Levitan [27]
JERRY: Who’s your all-time favorite singer or composer?
JOHN: I haven’t got one…I’ve got many. Yoko [laughter].
JERRY: How about yourself?
JOHN: Yeah, me first then Yoko. Okay.
JERRY: Just to finish this off, my number one on my list is the Beatles, number two is Pierre Trudeau, and number three is Jerry Lewis.
JOHN: Jerry Lee Lewis or the comedian?
JERRY: No! Jerry Lewis the cool guy.
JOHN: Oh. Who’s Pierre Trudeau? The prime minister?
JERRY: The prime minister. His full name is Joseph Philippe Pierre Yves Elliott Trudeau.
JOHN: I loved Jerry Lewis like mad when I was younger and going to the pictures in Liverpool. I used to see every film and howl about on the floor pissing and crying with laughter.
JERRY: That’s fantastic. He’s my number three guy. Anyway, thank you very much, John…
JOHN: It’s a pleasure, man.
JERRY:…and thanks, Yoko.
JOHN: Bye-bye. Here’s your album.
YOKO: Good luck. And peace.
JOHN: Play that album. And, oh yeah, peace.
THE END OF THE INTERVIEW came about not because Derek or John stopped us, but because I realized I was taking too much of John’s time. He probably would have let me go on for much longer, even though no one else got to interview John and Yoko that day as they immediately left for Montreal.
The interview was supposed to be about peace and that was his and Yoko’s final words. Considerate and mature enough not to criticize the American people or its government, John did not even mention Vietnam. John and Yoko’s campaign was directed at all countries and particularly the culture that promoted war. The messenger of love and peace wanted to conciliate and persuade, not to alienate or pontificate. He wanted a dialogue with fans, opinion makers, and the establishment. For the first time in pop history, a star took on the political responsibility of giving leadership to his generation. This would not simply be a foray into politics and social commentary. Unlike his “bigger than Jesus” statement, his comments were thoughtful, pointed, and deliberate but aimed at dialogue and persuasion. That John embraced my idea—have a kid conduct an interview aimed at kids—underscored the sincerity of his objective.
And when I asked him what we could do to help him, he did not lecture me. Rather he talked about personal responsibility and being cautious: Help me by helping yourselves. If you run around violent, you get smashed. These were the comments of a thoughtful and considerate man who understood the gravity of the times and the power he wielded, and had a vision for a better future.
Early on in the interview I noticed that the few other people in the room, Derek Taylor (who would bob in and out), a Capitol Records public relations man, and the CHUM disc jockey formed a circle around John, Yoko, and their young fan. They were listening in on probably his most unusual interview. Within minutes of the exchange, John invited Yoko to answer. She began, but quickly deferred. I have often looked back at that moment and understood it when it happened. Though the peace campaign was inseparable from Yoko, she was quick to let the young fan have all the time with his idol. Those moments must have been very difficult for her and yet I remember her generosity of spirit. She sat by and watched and smiled as I had my life-altering encounter with her husband and partner.
After about some twenty-odd minutes, I realized that no one, let alone John, was stopping me, and I became acutely aware that I was monopolizing his time. I stopped the interview so abruptly that John said, “Don’t forget your album,” and handed it to me. It was