by Norman Horowitz
The buildings reach up to the sky
The traffic thunders on the busy street
Pavement slips beneath my feet
I walk alone and wonder, who am I?
I close my eyes then I can fly
And I escape from all this worldly strife
Restricted by routine of life
But still I can’t discover, who am I?
I long to wake up in the morning
And find everything has changed
And all the people that I meet don’t wear a frown
But every day is just the same
I’m chasing rainbows in the rain
All the dreams that I believe in let me down
Maybe I’m reaching far too high
For I have something else entirely free
With love of someone close to me
Unfettered by the world that hurries by
Um, to question such good fortune, who am I?
It was more than half a lifetime ago when Petula Clark recorded the song “Who Am I?”
Glenn Gould, the Canadian pianist, wrote that the song was a “document of despair which catalogues the symptoms of disenchantment and ennui.” It was said that it embodied the social consciousness of the 1960s, specifically the search for the meaning of life.
I thought about “social consciousness” the other night when the Republicans were threatening to risk so much in shutting down the government in order to defund “Planned Parenthood.” It was a genuine “Good grief!” moment for me. Continue reading “Who Am I? (Other Than Cranky)”