I was killing time at my best friend’s condo in PDX tonight, waiting for the protests to die down when the news of Leonard Cohen’s death broke.
My friend didn’t know who he was, so I played “Hallelujah” on Spotify for him and his kids.
Of course they only know the Jeff Buckley version, or, more realistically, the John Cale version from “Shreck,” but my point was made.
The man whose lyrics I read more than I ever listened to is dead at 82.
And Trump was in the White House today.
Continue reading Trump is president and Leonard Cohen is Dead
The first was an unfortunate accident, the second an unfortunate circumstance.
Each death somehow invaded my normally tepid and still pond of existence. Their announcements left me cold and my waters troubled.
I don’t mean to trivialize the other deaths which have impacted my life.
My uncle took his own life, dear friends gone too soon and the inevitable loss of grand parents.
Each left a life-sized crater in my heart.
But on the outside of the womb of family, there are satellite deaths that occur with some regularity, enough, in fact, to disrupt our normal orbit.
Continue reading The two deaths