My heart is truly broken.
I was just coming to tell you this. Our hearts are one about Leonard cohen. His poetry and music helped me survive some pretty rough bits. I knew how you would feel.
I am in tears again. Leonard got me through college, motherhood and so much more. My greatest wish was to see him live in Dublin. (((grannyj)))
Records, cassette tapes, CDs, ipod – – I’ve listened and sung along to his talent for over 45 years. Always my go to !
Thank you, Leonard. You are an abiding blessing in this world.
“Dance me through the panic ’til I’m gathered safely in
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove
Dance me to the end of love”
May we all dance through the panic til, like Leonard, we are gathered safely in.
L’Shalom and Amen.
I just really listened to that now. How apt. I think Leonard had us all in mind.
I read yesterday that in his last interview, he said he was ready to die. He just hoped it wouldn’t be uncomfortable. 🙂
From Roddy Doyle:
2 hrs ·
-See Trump killed Leonard Cohen.
-He doesn’t only hate women. He hates the men tha’ women love. ’Specially older women.
-Fuckin’ Clooney’s gone into hidin’.
-Fuck him an’ his nespresso.
-And the Pope.
-Fuck the Pope?
-No. Women – they love him. Mine does, an’ anyway.
-Poor oul’ Leonard. He was good, but. Wasn’t he?
-Ah, he was. You should hear me grandkids singin’ Hallelujah.
-The wife loved him.
-She even became a Buddhist cos o’ Leonard.
-Is tha’ righ’?
-For a few weeks, just. Then she saw me eatin’ a quarter pounder an’ she said, ‘Fuck the Eightfold Path.’ But she’s always on at me to wear a hat like Leonard Cohen’s.
-Well, he won’t be needin’ it any more – in fairness.
-The thing is, but. If Leonard walked in here – if he wasn’t dead, like – they’d all go, ‘There’s an interestin’ man with a hat on him.’ If I walked in, it’d be, ‘Will yeh look at tha’ fuckin’ eejit with the hat.’ An’ that’s the big difference between us an’ Leonard Cohen. We couldn’t even start bein’ cool an’ Leonard never even had to try.
Cohen spoke for a generation across the globe that understood why at two am in the morning it was important to drink and write and smoke and fuck, not sure the gen xers or the milenals will ever understand. “And you want to travel blindly”
Dear Russell and PSminidiva,
You might enjoy my ramblings from 2014, just before my wild trip to Altoona, PA.
Famous Blue Raincoat
“There’s music on Clinton Street all through the evening”
Yay…I stayed in Clinton Street for a week last June. There was most certainly music on Clinton Street. I listened to the neighbours playing some great stuff one night as I sat outside in my little yard having a quiet smoke and a glass of the ole vino. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a rat dart across the patio. Hello, I thought. My daughter had already mentioned to me a day or two earlier that she had seen something with a tail out there. I tried to reassure her that it was probably just a squirrel. Still, I know a fecking rat when I see one. I jumped up, grabbed me smokes and me wine and headed towards the door, only to be confronted by the biggest, fecking rat I had ever seen in my life. He way lying in front of my exit. We stared at each other for a while, and the little (big) fecker never moved a muscle. I concluded that he was dead, and gingerly stepped around him, and raced indoors.
Well the whole reason I had rented this little apartment on the LES was so that I could go outside for a smoke. This happened to be the last night we were staying there, and I decided that I was going to go into the bathroom for a smoke. No more yard for me! Earlier on in the evening, the boyfriend of the girl who was renting it to us for the week had called on the phone to ask if he could drop his bike back to the apartment. I said no problem. However, it was heading for 11pm and I wrongly presumed that he wasn’t going to arrive that late.
So there is me, smoke roiling around in the bathroom, in a non-smoking place, when suddenly I hear the ominous sounds of a great, big Australian guy rolling his bike through the hallway…
Eek, I send 17 year old daughter rushing into the bathroom with instructions to spray deodorant and perfume all over the place. Safe I think? Well of course he had to put his bike in the back yard, and I explained to him that he had a big visitor out there waiting for him.
Now on reflection, we were warned to keep the back door closed because of insects! He made a big show of putting a flower pot over the rat to trap him. I now realise that rats are part of NYC, we have the feckers here too. Then he said to me, I need to use the bathroom!!!!!!
Daughter obviously heard him because she emerged from the bathroom looking very guilty. I don’t think he knew who exactly was staying in his apartment because he nearly died of shock.
At that stage, I fessed up about me smoking in the bathroom. I use an agency for renting places (much cheaper than hotels, but we have to review each other – guests and hosts alike), so I suggested that I would keep quiet about the rats, if he would keep quiet about the smoking. We came to a happy agreement.
And that was on Clinton Street.🙂
I like to think that I stayed in the same loft as Leonard. One never knows. Clinton Street isn’t very big!
Good karma my friend
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