Let It Be
I met my buddy Chris Wilkes at Dive Bar at the end of a marathon day of The MTV. He tells a great story of proposing to his then-girlfriend at the finish line of a grueling Iron Man Triathlon. That’s a 3-mile swim, 112-mile ride, and 26-mile run, for those of you playing along at home.
Snow was falling in gorgeous flakes when we split company around 10. It was snowing inside the 96th Street station, arguably one of the most dramatic aesthetic oppositions of grace and chaos I’ve seen in some time.
Later, above ground, the city was blanketed in still-white powder. The streets were quiet, save for dog walkers and their most-entertained companions. If the site of a puppy frolicking in the snow fails to make you smile, you’re not human.
I was listening to The Beatles ‘Let It Be,’ on my iPod, considering just what Paul meant. Avoid? Address? Abide? I choose the latter. “There will be an answer.” Indeed. “Let it be.”