Happy Birthday John Lennon

John Lennon, New York CityToday John Lennon would have been 75 years old. By pure coincidence, I was sitting around a few nights ago listening to Pandora when “(Just Like) Starting Over” came on. I’ve never been a huge John Lennon fan, but I had forgotten how much I love that song. I was seven years old when it came out. It was 1980. I would dance and sing along to it on the radio. It’s kind of hard not to really—it’s a happy song. That was the same year my mother died. I don’t remember much else about that year, but in the same way a smell or a taste can instantly bring you back to a time in your life, this song does it for me.

Before I knew it, it was 2 o’clock in the morning and I was deep down the John-Lennon-discography-rabbit-hole, and remembering just how many excellent songs he had. Here are my top five…

Happy Birthday to you in heaven, John Lennon! I hope you and my mom have bumped into each other.

[Note: I was trying to find videos that were more exciting than static album covers, yet less exciting than sex scenes with Yoko Ono or horrific war scenes…but those proved few and far between (although I did manage to find an okay video for Happy Xmas). Then again no need to watch, really. Just listen…]


Last Night at Carnegie Hall

Do yourself a favor and Listen. To. This. I heard it performed by The New York Wind Symphony last night at Carnegie Hall. It is a piece by Arturo Marquez called Danzón No. 2, and was inspired by Marquez’ visits to the dance halls of Mexico. I damn near embarrassed myself by getting up in the aisle to shake what my momma gave me.

In the words of my 88-year-old Aunt Gom, “it sends me.”


New York, A Love Story

Who the heck goes to the dentist at the Helmsley Building? A New Yorker does, that’s who.

I went with my aunt to her dentist appointment on a gorgeous day in New York—one of those rare but beautiful summer days: 80 degrees, sunny, dry, breezy. My aunt is 87 and doesn’t get around so easily anymore, so I go with her to appointments and help with errands. It seemed like the whole world was out and I couldn’t help thinking how I often run around this city mindlessly trying to get from one place to the next, barely stopping to catch my breath while elbowing people out of my way. But then there are days like this when I slow down and take it all in (that, plus my aunt can’t walk so fast).

And then it hits me: I LIVE IN NEW YORK CITY. New Yorkers have appointments with their dentists in the Helmsley Building. Actually, my dentist is on Central Park South, where I drool overlooking the treetops while my teeth are flossed and polished. I walk past The Plaza Hotel and the Essex House on my way there and breathe in the smell of horse shit from the carriages that cart tourists around the park. Sometimes I’ll treat myself afterwards to a quiche at Bouchon Bakery in the Time Warner Center down the street. And then I’ll meander through the park or just hop on the subway home. Technically, I suppose I am bridge and tunnel now that I live in Long Island City, but I’ve been in and around this city long enough to have earned my NYC badge.

View of Central Park from Dr. Farrington's office

View of Central Park from Dr. Farrington’s office

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