Notes From A Burning House

Leonard Cohen visits the same stores you do.  Hang around mid-city and you will see him.  He is always well-dressed.  Normally he wears a suit.

Last weekend I was A.C.-hopping, as you do, and I browsed hats for a little while in a shop on Melrose.  In he came, accompanied by a young woman in black.  She said, “How’s this?” as she tried on some hat and Cohen said I’m not crazy about that for you.

The last time I saw him was at the Whole Foods market on 3^rd and Fairfax, sitting at a table near check-out.  I interrupted his conversation, with an apology, to tell him I had grown up with his songs and poems and I wanted to thank him.  He stood and shook my hand and received my compliment with hospitality and gratitude.

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