If you could have a three-hour one on one chat with any one person currently living or from somewhere in history – who would it be and what would you talk about?

-- Alvin (alice23@earthlink.net), August 10, 2001

Answers

A part of my brain is telling me I should choose someone like Plato or Madame Curie or Gandhi or Jane Austen or Rasputin or Serena/Venus Williams. While I'm sure a conversation with any of those people would prove to be scintillating, the person I'd REALLY like to have a nice, long chat with would be John Lennon. There are so many things I'd want to talk to him about. Mostly, I'd want him to know what a tremendous impact the Beatles had on my life. Their music shook me to the roots of my soul. They stimulated my intellect ( Tomorrow Never Knows, A Day in the Life, Yer Blues), provoked me when I needed to lash out at the world (Revolution, I Am The Walrus, The Ballad of John and Yoko), shared and validated my loneliness (For No One, You've Got to Hide Your Love Away, I'm So Tired), comforted me when I was feeling down ( Hey Jude, Here Comes the Sun, Blackbird), caused my mind to bend and expand (Strawberry Fields Forever, Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds, Across the Universe), spoke to my romantic heart (Something, And I Love Her, Dear Prudence), and simply made me feel good (Norwegian Wood, Happiness is a Warm Gun, I Dig a Pony.)

The Beatles touched and moved me in so many ways. Listening to their music made me feel more alive than I ever had before. I'd want to thank John Lennon for the role he played in opening my ears and heart to the gift of music, and for giving me a powerful tool with which to not only face life, but stare it down, as well.

-- Stephanie (stevie@idsi.net), August 10, 2001.

What a natural response. I’m sure that Lennon would be on my list as well. After all when everyone else had Abba, Air Supply or the Bee Gee’s as their Wedding dance song (or whatever that thing is at the wedding that the delusional couple dance too) I had Lennon’s “Imagine.” X-2 had something with the likes of Olivia Neutron Bomb from the Play “Grease” lined up… go figure. Now that I look back on it… I see red flags.

-- Alvin (alice23@earthlink.net), August 10, 2001.

How about that... I too chose a Lennon offering for a wedding dance song - "Love is." As it turns out, love WASN'T, but that's another story...

-- Stephanie (stevie@idsi.net), August 10, 2001.

How do you pick just one person?

I mean, I might want to know the meaning of life today, but tomorrow I might just want a good recipe for veal piccata. (Not, since I hate to cook, but it's an example.)

Gutenberg is one; I'd like to tell him what his invention led to.

Another thing; would I have security? Say I chose Attila the Hun, I wouldn't want to be distracted thinking of my safety.

I wouldn't mind 3 hours with Paul McCartney but I'd hope it wouldn't all be spent talking...

I'll have to give it some more thought. Carry on...

-- Pauline (paulinee@colba.net), August 10, 2001.

It would be my Grandmother on my Mom's side. Now that she has been gone these many years, it would be so nice to be able to talk with her on an age level conducive to her giving her life history and reactions to same. Her love and devotion showed well in my Mom and not so very well in her son. There is a story in her life that I would like to hear with love and admiration.

-- Denver doug (ionoi@webtv.net), August 12, 2001.

I've been thinking about this question, off and on, for the past couple of days. I was trying to think of famous people I'd have anything to say to and, the simple fact of the matter is, I'd probably just get so tongue-tied that I'd waste my three hours.

So my answer is: Dad.

I turned 25 today- my first birthday without my father-- my Da. In the eight months [and four days] since the accident, I've realized how little my father and I actually talked. We had lots of fun together; we had an easy, comfortable, companionable silence that I cherished; we had silly times. We did talk, some, but how I wish we had talked more.

I never told him why I felt the need to move 2000 miles away from everyone I knew and loved. I hugged him as hard as I could whenever I saw him. I told him I loved him. I told him I missed him. At the time, I thought that was enough. I was wrong.

There are so many things we never talked about; there are so many questions I never asked him [Da, what's the meaning of life?] that I now wish I had his particular take on.

And really, even if we just had one of our extended silly moments, I'd give everything I have just to hear his voice for a solid three hours again.

-- Maggi (maggi@maddigen.com), August 19, 2001.