So many people seek celebrity and will go to unimaginable extremes to gain it. Sadly, Andy Warhol was mistaken. Far too many people attain some measure of notoriety and retain it for far too long.
Celebreties all are we...at least in our own mind till we all join the "mysterious caravan of phantoms" Till then, may we "rude swains" humor each other with a laugh or two and appreciation of the beauty of the world about us. Thank you for your wisdom and humor, Garrison.
May you continue to meet only nice folks in the Park.......I wish we could still cross Brooklyn Ferry. Whitman’s poem makes me smile and cry at the same time when he describes how much the river-crossers of the future are connected to him.
Bach played in *any* park is the best remedy for a stagnant imagination. His turn of musical phrase, with unique harmonic progression and rhythmic hemiola, guides the listener on an emotional journey of appreciation and inspiration, no matter the piece.
Your mention of John Lennon's death brought back a memory. The morning after his murder, I was listening to you and Jim Ed on The Morning Show (MN Public Radio) as I always did as I got ready for work (Marquette National Bank at University, Stadium Village, Mpls). You asked listeners to phone in requests for songs. It was such a comfort to hear your voice and the musical selections and to know that I wasn't alone in my shock and grief that morning.
Ah, the Morning Show, the likes of which are all too rare these days, making GK’s musings all the more anticipated in my email in box. I, too, listened as I drove to my Jr. high Literature and English teaching job. It never failed to start my day on a positive note.
Fame is an old story and the nameless are a delightful mystery. That confirms what life is all about , or should be . Next month when you are in the Boston area , visit the Frederick Law Olmsted National Historic site in Brookline MA if you have time.
Like you, John Lennon loved New York because of the ease with which he could walk (other than the occasional autograph seeker) unnoticed. He loved the city for that. He and Yoko would walk here and there without incident. Until that fateful day when he was stolen from us so needlessly. Everyone knew where they lived. Unfortunately, so did Mark Chapman.
I can’t know for sure, but I’m pretty certain that Central Park was a space he enjoyed on more than one occasion, perhaps with his son.
No. Central Park is not a cemetery. But John’s memorial belongs there. It is beautifully simple and unobtrusive, and it’s a place people from all over the world can go to remember the ways in which he has touched their lives. One of his songs, or even the first few notes of one, has the power to transport us back to a specific time in our lives, perhaps more so because his life was abbreviated so abruptly. It is good to have a place where we can go to reinforce that in our hearts.
If you want to talk about a cemetery, look up the remains that lie beneath the ground of Washington Square Park. I entered that park through the arch hundreds of times when I lived in the village a lifetime ago, to just sit in the shade of the trees in the summer to write without having a clue of the history of what occurred right beneath the bench on which I sat.
No, it’s appropriate for John’s memorial to be right where it is. I just wish it didn’t have to be there in the first place.
I grieve for his loss of all these beautiful ordinary days, thousands of them. I wish he'd been more careful. I wish there'd been an off-duty cop with them in the limo to handle the jerk who was waiting in the shadows.
OK, enough, already! At some point after reading your goings on and on about NYC, I crush into a ball and can't stop the fretting! Truth is...here I am in Minnesota, and you know life is about as good as it's going to get, except for this past winter, when the only way to reckon with it, was to look around and see that other parts of our country were way worse off than we were, in this case, weatherwize.
Back to my point of a fretting ball i...I grew up not far from where you sit in one of the most lovely parks in the world, Central Park. Most of my in-law & out-law relatives live not far from the last bench you sat on there, and if I don't get my NYC fix soon...😱
I think I'm better now after calming my homesickness & jealousy, so I will thank you for your NYC (I can hardly type it) musings. Be well Garrison! 🤗
Growing up in Minneapolis, I loved the City of Parks -- and Parkways. Windom Park was only 3 blacks away, kitty corner from my grade school -- Pillsbury -- with playground equipment, tennis courts, a softball diamond, skating, and band concert and community sings in the summer. I didn't appreciate them as much as I should have until I moved away.
I love your sentiments, but balloons are a no-no for me. Birds, turtles & other creatures mistake balloons for food which end up hurting or killing them. There are many ways to project cheer, but balloons are not one of them. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Thank you for that link to Thanatopsis! I read it in school long ago, but at that age, I didn't comprehend it as I do today, with a more aware mind. And thank you for that lovely connection with your grandmother, Dora. We keep the dead alive in our minds when we remember them.
Inspiring, a living branch extended over the tumult of the river. The lesson whisperer in the moment of need. Ah yes, the cavalry has arrived and they fly the banner of the house of Keillor.✌️
I once read awhile ago that there is an obelisk at the entrance of Central Park. It was mysterious in fact. Whenever I ponder these tall structures I am reminded of Egyptian pyramids. I've never visited Strawberry Fields in CP. I never considered it a place for mourning but a home for a celebration of a beautiful yet jaded life. There are too many pseudo-celebrities and influencers whose fifteen seconds have expired. I hope one day the true artists like yourself are adorned. So continue to explore the recreational Nature places (I am partial to Bryant Park in the summer). There's a whole other island to discover. Happy Mother's Day to the matriarchy here, there, and everywhere.
I like the Lennon Memorial because it showed that that an ugly action of humanity can be made beautiful. The memorial is perfect in its simpleness and being unimposing. And the message - IMAGINE - it kinda of what the creators of this park were hoping for too.
Someday in the Ramble you may run into my wife who is very sociable but you'll have to walk fast to keep up with her.
So many people seek celebrity and will go to unimaginable extremes to gain it. Sadly, Andy Warhol was mistaken. Far too many people attain some measure of notoriety and retain it for far too long.
Celebreties all are we...at least in our own mind till we all join the "mysterious caravan of phantoms" Till then, may we "rude swains" humor each other with a laugh or two and appreciation of the beauty of the world about us. Thank you for your wisdom and humor, Garrison.
What great cards. I wish I could purchase them separately to give as gifts.
May you continue to meet only nice folks in the Park.......I wish we could still cross Brooklyn Ferry. Whitman’s poem makes me smile and cry at the same time when he describes how much the river-crossers of the future are connected to him.
Bach played in *any* park is the best remedy for a stagnant imagination. His turn of musical phrase, with unique harmonic progression and rhythmic hemiola, guides the listener on an emotional journey of appreciation and inspiration, no matter the piece.
Any Bach, played anywhere, and time, is nourishment for the soul.
I agree. The city should have a Dept of Cello and hire a dozen of them to play Bach in public places and lift the spirits of the rest of us.
Your mention of John Lennon's death brought back a memory. The morning after his murder, I was listening to you and Jim Ed on The Morning Show (MN Public Radio) as I always did as I got ready for work (Marquette National Bank at University, Stadium Village, Mpls). You asked listeners to phone in requests for songs. It was such a comfort to hear your voice and the musical selections and to know that I wasn't alone in my shock and grief that morning.
Ah, the Morning Show, the likes of which are all too rare these days, making GK’s musings all the more anticipated in my email in box. I, too, listened as I drove to my Jr. high Literature and English teaching job. It never failed to start my day on a positive note.
Fame is an old story and the nameless are a delightful mystery. That confirms what life is all about , or should be . Next month when you are in the Boston area , visit the Frederick Law Olmsted National Historic site in Brookline MA if you have time.
www.nps.gov/frla/index.htm
Like you, John Lennon loved New York because of the ease with which he could walk (other than the occasional autograph seeker) unnoticed. He loved the city for that. He and Yoko would walk here and there without incident. Until that fateful day when he was stolen from us so needlessly. Everyone knew where they lived. Unfortunately, so did Mark Chapman.
I can’t know for sure, but I’m pretty certain that Central Park was a space he enjoyed on more than one occasion, perhaps with his son.
No. Central Park is not a cemetery. But John’s memorial belongs there. It is beautifully simple and unobtrusive, and it’s a place people from all over the world can go to remember the ways in which he has touched their lives. One of his songs, or even the first few notes of one, has the power to transport us back to a specific time in our lives, perhaps more so because his life was abbreviated so abruptly. It is good to have a place where we can go to reinforce that in our hearts.
If you want to talk about a cemetery, look up the remains that lie beneath the ground of Washington Square Park. I entered that park through the arch hundreds of times when I lived in the village a lifetime ago, to just sit in the shade of the trees in the summer to write without having a clue of the history of what occurred right beneath the bench on which I sat.
No, it’s appropriate for John’s memorial to be right where it is. I just wish it didn’t have to be there in the first place.
I grieve for his loss of all these beautiful ordinary days, thousands of them. I wish he'd been more careful. I wish there'd been an off-duty cop with them in the limo to handle the jerk who was waiting in the shadows.
OK, enough, already! At some point after reading your goings on and on about NYC, I crush into a ball and can't stop the fretting! Truth is...here I am in Minnesota, and you know life is about as good as it's going to get, except for this past winter, when the only way to reckon with it, was to look around and see that other parts of our country were way worse off than we were, in this case, weatherwize.
Back to my point of a fretting ball i...I grew up not far from where you sit in one of the most lovely parks in the world, Central Park. Most of my in-law & out-law relatives live not far from the last bench you sat on there, and if I don't get my NYC fix soon...😱
I think I'm better now after calming my homesickness & jealousy, so I will thank you for your NYC (I can hardly type it) musings. Be well Garrison! 🤗
Growing up in Minneapolis, I loved the City of Parks -- and Parkways. Windom Park was only 3 blacks away, kitty corner from my grade school -- Pillsbury -- with playground equipment, tennis courts, a softball diamond, skating, and band concert and community sings in the summer. I didn't appreciate them as much as I should have until I moved away.
I love your sentiments, but balloons are a no-no for me. Birds, turtles & other creatures mistake balloons for food which end up hurting or killing them. There are many ways to project cheer, but balloons are not one of them. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Thank you for that link to Thanatopsis! I read it in school long ago, but at that age, I didn't comprehend it as I do today, with a more aware mind. And thank you for that lovely connection with your grandmother, Dora. We keep the dead alive in our minds when we remember them.
Lovely way to begin my day. Thanks, Garrison.
Inspiring, a living branch extended over the tumult of the river. The lesson whisperer in the moment of need. Ah yes, the cavalry has arrived and they fly the banner of the house of Keillor.✌️
I once read awhile ago that there is an obelisk at the entrance of Central Park. It was mysterious in fact. Whenever I ponder these tall structures I am reminded of Egyptian pyramids. I've never visited Strawberry Fields in CP. I never considered it a place for mourning but a home for a celebration of a beautiful yet jaded life. There are too many pseudo-celebrities and influencers whose fifteen seconds have expired. I hope one day the true artists like yourself are adorned. So continue to explore the recreational Nature places (I am partial to Bryant Park in the summer). There's a whole other island to discover. Happy Mother's Day to the matriarchy here, there, and everywhere.
I like the Lennon Memorial because it showed that that an ugly action of humanity can be made beautiful. The memorial is perfect in its simpleness and being unimposing. And the message - IMAGINE - it kinda of what the creators of this park were hoping for too.