Nowhere Man

You know, it’s funny how the mind works. Let me explain. Today when I was out walking my dog in the park, I just started daydreaming. For some reason, my mind shot back about six years, to the time when my mom and I were on a winding, two-lane road driving to Jim Thorpe. If you don’t know, Jim Thorpe is this cozy little northeastern-Pennsylvania town nestled in the Lehigh Gorge. The place looks like something out of the 1800s and it has even been called the Switzerland of the U.S.

Anyway, I specifically thought back to a particular conversation that my mom and I had had during the car ride. We had been discussing the Beatles, and I was giving her some insight into the band and into what exactly made them great, as her knowledge of the Beatles is not as in depth as mine.

In particular, I was explaining to her one of the things that I thought made John Lennon amazing. I told her that, yes, of course John Lennon was a great songwriter, but what made him so good was his ability to meld his songwriting with another talent of his.

See, in addition to songwriting, John Lennon had been into, well, plain old creative writing. He especially liked to write nonsensical, pun-filled sketches of made-up characters. These wild writings of his -- to see what I mean, get a copy of “A Spaniard in the Works,” the 1965 book they were published in -- are good. But that’s it; they’re nothing more than good.

However, when John Lennon would apply these fiction-writing chops of his to his real craft, songwriting, the final product was often, just, amazing.

To illustrate my point, I cited the song “Nowhere Man.” See, on the one hand, “Nowhere Man” is a song about a person who is lost; on the other, it’s a song about an actual character named Nowhere Man, and Nowhere Man is a creation that could have come straight out of the kooky pages of “A Spaniard in the Works.”

So that was one place where my mind drifted to when I was daydreaming in the park. The other place seems a little less random considering the story I’ve just related, but I find the whole train of thought fascinating nonetheless.

I was transported back to my dorm room in Fitzgerald Hall.

Fitzgerald Hall was the red-bricked, two-story rectangular building where I lived for two years when I attended SUNY Cortland, my college. It’s also the place where I met my first love, as she had also lived in the dorm.

The moment that I thought back to was one from an afternoon in the spring of 2002. I had just nailed the solo to “Nowhere Man” on guitar, and after I did, had called this girlfriend of mine at the time into my room to have a listen.

And just like it was yesterday, I was able to recall the scene exactly. I was sitting at my roommate's desk and she was sitting on his bed, and when the song got up to the solo, I began playing along, note for note.

After I had finished and had shut the music, she told me she thought the whole thing was pretty cool. However, she didn’t give me any over-the-top praise. Still, I know she was a Beatles fan, so I’m pretty sure she had meant what she said.