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A last ‘Waltz’ for Leonard Cohen

Leonard Cohen. Photo by AP Photo/Chris Pizzello.

Leonard Cohen really wasn’t meant for these times.

Cohen, who died Nov. 10 at age 82, spoke to and for the lovers of peace, acceptance and knowledge.

He was a poet.

Some might even say a prophet.

Cohen was honest as hell about everything from love and sex to god and death.

From “(getting) head on an unmade bed” to “I’m ready, my lord,” he sang the personal truth, which is the only real truth.

Leonard Cohen now occupies a penthouse in the “Tower of Song” next to Hank Williams’ and we’re down here wondering if we’re ready to take Manhattan.

It all goes by so fast.

Nineteen years old and I walked into a small house doubling as a CD store in the “student ghetto” of Gainesville in 1997.

A sound struck me like few in memory.

“Take This Waltz.”

Cohen was, for me, the finest singer I’d heard since I found my way to “Blonde on Blonde”-era Bob Dylan.

I felt every word.

I heard a voice of authenticity and the music, the overall music of the voice and the accompaniment, was soothing and sublime, as sonorous, to me, as Sinatra or Nina Simone.

And stimulating.

Made me curious.

These words by Cohen and Garcia Lorca got my attention, grabbed me, got into my mind and my emotions.

“This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz

With its very own breath of brandy and Death”

The two guys, 10 or so years older than me, working behind the counter at the CD store were, I think, impressed when I blurted, “Who is that and is it for sale?”

Five bucks for a used CD of Cohen’s 1988 release “I’m Your Man” and for that five bucks I found a lifelong friend.

I suffered through working two crummy jobs a day paying my way through school at Santa Fe Community College in Gainesville.

While the frat boys had their fun I came home from those jobs, from night classes, and drank in an apartment with busted AC and read and read and read everyone a wannabe Next Great American Novelist reads and listened to as much Bob Dylan, Lou Reed and Leonard Cohen as I could afford.

Listen to the same CDs over and over and you appreciate them in a way music just isn’t appreciated today.

I used to have to spend at least an hour in the hot Florida sun mowing grass to afford a new CD. Now, I just go on Spotify, which costs less than a CD, and stream Cohen’s last and latest “You Want it Darker.”

It’s all out there now for anyone who wants to find it.

To the masses, Cohen will probably remain most famous for giving the world the oft-covered masterpiece “Hallelujah.”

But tonight it’s these Cohen lyrics, from the song “Democracy” off his 1992 album “The Future,” that won’t leave my mind:

“I’m sentimental, if you know what I mean

I love the country but I can’t stand the scene

And I’m neither left or right

I’m just staying home tonight

Getting lost in that hopeless little screen

But I’m stubborn as those garbage bags

As time cannot decay

I’m junk but I’m still holding up this little wild bouquet

Democracy is coming to the USA

To the USA”

RIP L. Cohen.

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