Sean Lennon, while I’ve never met him, seems alright to me.

I've seen him around town, from time to time, in the Bronx and once Manhattan.
In Queens and Staten Island.
Once on Roosevelt.

His father was, of course, John Lennon—John Ono-Lennon:
Yoko’s “wife.”
To whom, when he first met her, she said she’d never heard of the Beatles, despite having lived in the States for a long time...
...which sounds like a lie, but if you ever met her, you’d see why it’s not:
she’s very droll, and so is Sean.

Now Sean has an older brother, a half-sibling named Julian:
also a largely commercially unsuccessful singer-songwriter.
Not to say that Sean is, such a one...
...but only that his work never found the same breadth of audience as that of his contemporaries, like Jakob Dylan.
Being as he is more along the lines of an Alex Chilton or Scott Walker, a Lowell George type of figure.

Julian, and his mother, Cynthia, are not infrequently “written,” so to speak, "out" of the John Lennon mythos.
And one can understand why, when one looks at the kind of person Sean Lennon is:

an alumnus of Columbia University;
earlier, Le Rosey in Rolle, Switzerland;
the Ethical Culture Fieldston School and Dalton, in Manhattan:
and having attended kindergarten in Tokyo...
...all of which makes one wonder:
whether, when Sean resumed his studies stateside:
did he struggle to keep up with his peers?
Or did his presence, in fact, radically shape, for the infinite better, the pedagological methodologies of those elite private preparatory institutions?

And while one might, in consideration of these and sundry additional truths, “understand why” Julian and Cynthia have been erased so...
...yet one must never forget that Sean Lennon, himself doesn’t “understand why.”

And despite all that we've mentioned thus far, Sean has always been one of the most, if not the sole, outspoken defender of Julian, and of Julian’s mother Cynthia.

Even from a young (precocious) age did Sean hate! hate! the nasty, awful things John would say about Cynthia;
about, and to Julian;
and never did he ever understand, Sean, why his daddy so resented, so scorned, so deeply reviled, his own beloved first child.

And this would make Sean sad, and Sean would cry.
He would run and hide under the four-foot-high stuffed elephant chair whose name was Kenji, and there he would cry his little heart out.

And soon enough John would find him, lift him up in his arms;
would peer deep into those bright and beautiful eyes, in which eyes he then saw what he had seen when first he peered into the soul of Yoko, when Yoko said “Yes,” and not NO and “her love [turned him] on”;
those eyes suggesting which incipient masculine beauty John would never live to see attain adulthood.

And he would sing to him;
he would sing:

Life is what happened to Julian / 
when I was busy making other plans.

The lyric was later revised somewhat.

—editors