in memoriam

I walked from the East Village to Bryant Park today, where A Tribute 9/11 has been set up for the past few days. There are 2,753 empty chairs on the lawn, one to represent each person killed on 9/11. It is quite eerie and beautiful.

An interactive public art project called Collective Memory included a pool of typists set up at a table each day from 12:30 to 2:30, recording people's responses to the question, What would you like the world to remember about 9/11? I didn't get to the park until around 4 today, so I missed the typists, but there was one lone typewriter still there, and I sat down to write. Someone is collecting the writings and will eventually display some of them at the 9/11 Memorial and Museum. You can also see them here.

Your girl is lovely, Hubbell

Dear Meghan,

You know I loved you, right? I really loved you. When it was good between us, it was really (pause for emphasis) good. We had something really special, and there were times when I thought you were perfect for me. But it just got way too hard. I just think that when you meet the person you're supposed to end up with, it's not that hard. Things were so hard between us... we've done this breakup thing one too many times, and I just can't do it anymore. I've met someone who's interested in me, and I'm interested in her. We're not "dating." We went on one date, and we'll probably go on another date. But this isn't about her... it's about you and me, and the difficulties we encountered in our relationship. I just don't think I can love you the way I did anymore. I loved you so much, and those memories we shared will always be special to me, and I'll never doubt how much I loved you. But I don't love you, not like that, anymore.

But I don't love you like that anymore
But I don't love you like that
But I don't love you like
But I don't love you
But I don't love
But I don't
But I
But

Love,

J
D
Andrew

Michael Jackson, my childhood

Michael Jackson died today. It doesn't even seem real, does it? Not to me, not yet. It's still very much surreal, and until I have a few days to let it sink in, it won't seem real. Regardless of what you think of his personal life and all the drama that went down later in his life, Michael Jackson defined pop music today. He wasn't just the King of Pop, he was the Creator. Without him, there would be no Justin, no Britney, no GaGa, no Beyonce, no Madonna, no Usher... countless others. He defined not only the music video, but the entire genre of a generation. He WAS a genre, unto himself. Such a statement can be made about few others in music. Elvis, the Beatles, Queen, Elton John, maybe. That's about it.

For some reason I have a very separate and distinct memory of going to Wal-Mart as a little kid and buying his album History, which included the following song. I remember waiting in line with my mom, holding the CD in my hand and thinking, "Wow, $20 is a lot for an album." (It was a two-disc set!) My mom helped me pay for it, as I was nine years old at the time. I recall dancing around my room and singing and making up choreography to various songs off the album, but especially Scream, which I was obsessed with. Tonight, The Harlem Singing Man paid me another visit - but, this time, it tugged on my heart strings a little bit more. I'll always love you, MJ.



Until next time.