New York Adventures, Part II. New York, NY.

Last night around 8 PM I was sick of staring at a computer screen. I wanted a slice of pizza. I wanted to get out into the city. So I layered myself properly, squeezed on my jacket, gloves, hat, grabbed my camera, and jumped on the train. I haven’t ever really spent much time north of the very southern edge of Central Park so I wanted to see what it was like in the middle of the park at night.

I got off at 72nd street and began exploring the tree-lined paths. I was amazed at how many lampposts there were. They were like stars when I stared ahead through the trees.

After walking for a bit and taking some pictures, I heard what sounded like a choir in the distance. I continued down the path until it opened up and I realized what I was hearing.

As big a fan as I am of the Beatles, I was not aware that it was the anniversary of John Lennon’s death. As is tradition, a crowd of young and old had gathered at 72nd street, Central Park West, “Strawberry Fields,” near the Dakota, to sing songs, and mourn the death of the walrus himself.

Now, I realize John Lennon was just a man, and a flawed one at that, but boy do I love his music. And there’s something about Beatles music that brings people together… I stood for an hour in the crowd belting out Lennon and Beatles favorites. We sang, among a lot of obscure songs, “Imagine,” “Give Peace a Chance,” “Happy Christmas! (War is Over)” and at the tale end “Hey Jude.” There was a band of several guys (young and old) with acoustic guitars, but when “Hey Jude” began, I swear, tambourines and shakers emerged throughout the crowd, and, I’m not kidding, the stillness of the trees was interrupted momentarily by a gust of wind that shook the last of the leaves from the trees which came showering down on our “Na na na nas.” My sore throat is more hoarse this morning then it was last night, but I don’t care. I will never forget last night.