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“Gimme Some Truth!”

It’s a John Lennon song, on his “Imagine” album.

I loved most of that album, especially the title song; it was hard not to. I did realize right away that many of his feelings were impossible dreams that I could not wholly share, a sort of updated “All You Need is Love.” But even if there was “no hell below us, above us only sky,” I still loved to hope and dream, and especially during the years until reality set in. It’s warmer and better to look up than down.

On my wall in Brittany, the only verses found in John Lennon’s notebooks.

So much happened during those years, it was almost crazy. I kept moving most of the time, living in three different countries and bouncing around relentlessly, somehow managing to complete an extraordinary education, first the hippy highway, then the hippy college, and finally the hippy law school, before belatedly embarking on a career in corporate law.

But it’s the searching on the way that stays with me, and that this volume of these memoirs addresses. I suspect that the search achieved more than the career it culminated in, but that may simply reflect a feeling that I could have done much more in the career. I wanted to be more than a tradesman, even a good tradesman, and was not. But the search for truth that led me to the trade went so well.