The Lennons’ Many Faceted Man Reflects on Life with the Superstar Couple

Because literally thousands of books have been written about the Beatles—both as a group and individuals, the subcategories can get pretty minute. There is actually—no joke—one called A Cheese Sandwich for John Lennon in which a young Liverpudlian girl recalls, well, making said snack for a hungry pre-fame Beatle.

But one of the most interesting genres is Memoirs by People Employed By the Beatles. Among the better-known ones The Longest Cocktail Party by Apple “House Hippie” Richard Dilello, The Love You Make by NEMS executive Peter Brown, and Yesterday by PR man Alistair Taylor.

Even their chauffeur, Alf Bicknell, put out The Beatles Diary. And Frederic Seaman, a personal assistant at the end of Lennon’s life who later confessed to stealing hundreds of letters, documents, and photos after his boss was assassinated, had The Last Days of John Lennon.

But Elliot Mintz’s We All Shine On: John, Yoko and Me (304 pp., $32, Dutton) has the interests of Beatle People especially piqued. Arguably, no one was closer to John and Yoko Lennon during the 1970s or spent more time with them in person or on the phone than Mintz.

After Lennon was assassinated, it was Mintz in countless photos with the grieving widow and speaking on her behalf to the media. And his association with her would continue for decades.

Mintz’s introduction to the couple came in a professional way. A radio talk show host and DJ, he had heard an album by Ono and it fascinated him. He arranged to interview her on the phone and kept the focus on her and her work rather than her famous husband.

Days later, Ono called him out of the blue to talk about all sorts of things. And the next day. And the next. Soon, he had spent hundreds of hours chatting with her (with some conversations stretching to seven hours), a curious Lennon started calling as well, racking up similar long-distance bills in the process.

Eventually, the Laurel Canyon-living Mintz was so used to getting calls from the Lennons at all hours, he had three phone lines installed: one for personal use, one for business, and one for the couple, with a red light flashing so he knew it was them.

Then the requests came in. Could Mintz secure some diet pills or syringes for the couple to self-medicate to lose weight (he couldn’t). Could he find out the birthdates of some potential West Coast business partners so Ono could see if they would work astrologically (he could).

And could he watch over Lennon when Ono tossed him out of the house, sending him to California with an assistant-turned-lover May Pang for the infamous and booze-and-drug laden “Lost Weekend” that lasted 18 months? (He did).

And in the process, introduced Lennon to his own musically famous friends Alice Cooper, Mickey Dolenz and Harry Nilsson. The four would form the core of the notorious Rainbow Bar and Grill-based drinking club The Hollywood Vampires.

Mintz writes harrowingly of witnessing Lennon at his Rock Bottom during the Lost Weekend. And at one point is called to the home he was staying to find the former Beatle, after having destroyed his host, producer Lou Adler’s living room and precious possessions, snarling like Linda Blair in the Exorcist while being restrained by ropes. He even calls Mintz something that was so hurtful, the author doesn’t repeat it here.
And when Lennon was excited to visit a seedy strip club call the Losers with Mintz, the pair left after a dispiriting 30 minutes where not a customer nor lady taking off her clothes recognized one of the most famous faces in the world.

Interestingly, Mintz’s brief, read-between-the-lines summation of Pang is telling. She has in books, a documentary, and countless interviews discussed her affair with Lennon. But Mintz coyly suggests that the did not have the deep, romantic, and future-looking relationship with him that she thought or felt she had.
Many of Mintz’s stories and recollections have appeared in some form or another elsewhere. But there are plenty of new tidbits. John Lennon was an anti-vaxxer distrustful of modern medicine and fought a losing battle to keep youngest son Sean from the needle. His ideas and practices for gambling were shite. And when the Lennons invited him to join them on a weeks-long sojourn to Japan, he was surprised at how spiritual the famously non-religious Lennon became while touring shrines.

And when he found himself—amazingly—the fifth wheel at a dinner with the Lennons and McCartneys at Elaine’s, their disdain for the food led them to order pizzas, which were duly delivered and consumed at the famous New York eatery.

Finally, it is Mintz who rushes across the country to arrive at the couple’s home at the Dakota building the day after Lennon was assassinated. He recalls sitting in the couple’s home with a shattered Ono, silently watching CNN with the sound turned off. And when John’s first son Julian Lennon arrives, it’s Mintz who is chosen to shepherd him around a city filled with hundreds of thousands mourning his dead father.

Eventually, the reader asks the same question about Elliot Mintz that the author himself does. What was he to John and Yoko in the end? Friend? Confidante? PR man? Fix-It Guy or Gofer? Family member? In the end, Mintz took on all of those roles—and more.