We all start out as little fishes in our daddy's pants, and we all end up a Thanksgiving feast for the worms, and in the mean time, we have to find a couple of good reasons to give a f*ckMy rock god fantasy is visiting John Lennon during the Dakota years. He'd be baking me bread while we prank call Paul McCartney. Speaking of Paul McCartney... I'm a total Beatle-phile and this book's title? First thing I thought of was the Paul is Dead brouhaha, no kidding I loved this book. Kinda wanted to propose and marry and have kids with it. I mean, the author wrote the sh*t out of this one. And I wasn't going to review mostly because I'm too verklempt to make any sense. But I was led to this book by a review of another book and I felt, if I could spread the word according to Tiffanie DeBartolo (or Paul Hudson for that matter), then I would've reminded another person of how it feels to read something that doesn't dumb you down as a reader.I was pretty sure this will ruin all my subsequent reads for me for a while. How else will I read anything and not use this book as rule and measure? Character depth? Realistic, witty dialogue? Relatable situations? Logic? Okay maybe logic is a bit of a negotiable point (I'll get to that), but the thing is, until I got to about the 52% mark, I was eating up everything Ms. DeBartolo was dishing. The things is, I imagine how many ways this book can be taken and still the reader would end up bewitched, bothered and bewildered. Is it the philosophical ruminations about fate, love, death and life? A love letter (or a eulogy) to rock and roll? A credible love story with moments that will grip your heart and pancreas at the same time? Is it the finger to capitalism and embracing that which makes us human? It is all that and more.So when I started to frown on how things were panning out plot-wise beyond that 52% mark, I was a bit relieved that the next book I'd be reading won't be DNF-ed relative to this. That out-of-left-field decision that Eliza made, that set the ball rolling for the latter half of the book... yeah, not a fan of that. It felt like an ill-fit with how the story was going thus far. But then without that moment, I'd only be left with half a book. Never mind if beyond that point things went the predictable path. Had it not been for that pivotal, illogical, soap opera-ish point, I wouldn't have met Loring's teakettle, Bob. Or seen Paul throw an awesome sh*t-fit. Or just plainly read Ms. DeBartolo's words a little while longer. The end felt a little to drawn out (though I'm blaming myself for calling out that plot twist, a mile away) and I could think of a few better last 25% for the story. Strange, but I kind of wished the focus didn't stray away much from the music and the deafening drama of the love story didn't drown it out. Because that's what drew me in in the first place anyway and that would've made this a perfect five star read.But who wants to call their aunts with balls, uncle anyway?