Here’s some weirdness: I did a 45-minute talk on the life of Leonard Cohen yesterday at Port Washington Library, and when they let the crowd in, this woman clearly in her early 80s took the seat directly in front of me and waved me over. “My husband died last week, and I just buried him. We played "You Want It Darker” and “Hallelujah” at the funeral and it was beautiful. I haven’t left the house since but I came to this because there are no coincidences in this life—you were meant to do this lecture and it was meant to be here at my library so I could attend it.“ I was pretty floored by this emotional story. I said sorry for her loss and that I would do my best. And then she kept going. "You know, he’d make for an excellent sperm donor.” “Excuse me?” “Leonard Cohen, I mean. He was so handsome and literary and musical. I wouldn’t mind a grandson with all that.” I looked at her to double check and she wasn’t joking. “He would have been in high demand,” she said matter of factly. I had no response to that so I nodded and mumbled something about how I had to get ready. Than I got out of there before I broke up laughing.
