HelloAngel
ONE love, blood, life
By dazzledbylight
My weekend was set, I had an obligation to get going on so I was only going to allow myself a few hours each day on the net for relaxation. Friday night I visited a Tolkien site before heading to some U2 sites. A headline quickly caught my eye, "Alert! Alert!" went my brain, "Probable U2 sighting opportunity, Bono to speak as late addition to the Concert in Tribeca." No matter which hyperlinks I jumped around to for the festival, I couldn't find when on May 8th this was supposed to happen.
I'd run in less than a heartbeat to hear Bono sing, with or with out his bandmates (though I prefer with them), but speaking? Yeah, this was very interesting to me, a different opportunity. I'd read some of his speeches excerpts, impressed with Bono's dogged devotion to trying to learn, contact and connect with people in general, and people in power to bring knowledge and effect change.
Groggy with a cold, I overslept on Saturday. I ran to the subway, luckily only a 20-minute ride from my part of Brooklyn to the first station in Lower Manhattan. But while working on a piece of jewelry on the train I missed my station connection, not noticing until the Manhattan Bridge where this express line crosses finally caught my attention. Now I'd be a mile away instead of one minute from the local stop. I was just too tired to go dashing downtown (even for Bono) with a cold, so I decided to double back on the subway. Construction and resulting service changes made the massive Canal Street station even more Escher-like trying get to the Brooklyn-bound local at a different platform than usual. I got there and onto the train. When the time took too long for the next Manhattan local station to appear and the cheery sun came glancing through the windows again--I was going right back across the bridge.
I finally arrived at the right station at 1:30. Since I didn't know the day's schedule I was afraid Bono might have been done already, but there was no crowd at Battery Park, let alone Bono. I was directed to the main entrance to ask the staff about Bono's speech. While I waited for them to finish their meeting, a few people sitting around the benches said to me, "Hey, don't crash the line." Those few people were the line at that point. They showed me the tickets with instructions stating the gate would open at 4:30. Why I thought it was going to be an afternoon concert, I don't know.
I returned at 6:30, a half hour later than I figured I should have been there. I went back to the perimeter of the park where I first was, arriving right in the middle of Macy Gray's set. She was dressed in a peachy-colored, flowing dress singing away, with a funky, hip-hop tinged band and background singers behind her. They were all whipping up a storm and that was good, since it was colder than it had been for the last several days, and dancing helped me keep warm. Though she on stage said she was cold.
The stage was about block away from me, mostly to my left. Luckily, there was a Jumbotron attached to the right side of the stage so I could actually see Macy as a smallish figure in the opening, right between the main back and the front-part section of the stage, while the rest of the band was blocked by the same main side back of the stage.
When Macy finished I asked a few people near me who'd already played. The Black Eyed Peas were on before Macy Gray so there was still Steve Winwood and Van Morrison to go. They didn't mention Bono.
I strode over to the temporary corrugated-steel housing for the No. 1 train's South Ferry stops exit. Even after putting on a sweater, I decided to stay there. All I had to do was partially lean out the doorway to hear Winwood & Co play. When they finished I went right back to where I'd been. I really wanted to hear Bono, and prevent my cold from getting worse.
Logically, Bono would have to speak now, or he'd be losing at least part of the audience that stayed long enough to hear Van Morrison and then leave. Chris Tucker came up next to do some comedy when he said that Bono would be out in a few minutes. The crowd yelled loudly with some additional sharp-toned voices, suggesting that some people were surprised, and happily so. Those folks must have come later, and missed the earlier announcement that Bono would be speaking. A few minutes later Tucker leaned back saying, "You ready back there yet? No? All right, folks, you still got me." Finally he announced, "And here's Robert De Niro." After Mr. De Niro spoke about the [Tribeca Film] Festival he co-founded, he announced Bono, "Bono has something he wants to talk to you about." An even bigger cheer erupts from the crowd.
I was trying to see if I could actually see Bono come on to the stage, since I'd seen Macy make her entrance before. I didn't see him go up any stairs but suddenly saw him from the back right side heading toward the center microphone. He wore dark jeans, a double-pocketed dark-olive jacket, a white T-shirt and the olive hat.
"I'm a Rock Star," he said, the line he often opens with when starting one of his socio-political talks. A hearty roar from the crowd. He went into praising the Festival. "This is one of the best events of defiance down here in Lower Manhattan." Of course, everyone knew the allusion to the events of 9/11. The partially-battered, spherical sculpture that once stood on top of the low-rise circular, water-sluicing fountain in the middle of the World Trade Center Plaza that miraculously escaped not being crushed was right there in the park less than two blocks away from everyone.
Then he turned the energy into laughter. He chuckled and said, "I feel naked up here on stage without the band." He stopped, then started up again, "FCC, if you're listening right now, I said I 'feel' naked up here on stage, not that I am naked. Otherwise in tomorrow?s New York Post the headline would be 'Bono Naked in Battery Park.' I asked the guys if they wanted to join me here, they said, well, I can't tell you what they really said, this is a family event, it was something like, 'You're giving a speech about Africa to a rock concert crowd in New York City? Uh, oh! You're on your own!'"
Bono spoke of his love for New York City as a semi-adoptee, going from the delight of the available variety here to the sublime. "It's my favorite city in America. I can eat Korean food at 3 am. I can walk the streets where Langston Hughes and Bobby Kennedy walked." Then he went into a kind of litany via rock 'n roll analogies about his affection for America itself. His voice began to intensify.
"I've read your Declaration of Independence and your Constitution. America is an idea, more than any other country. There are great ideas that come out of my country, Ireland, but America is an idea in itself. I'm a great fan of America, but I'm the kind of fan who reads all the liner notes and credits, the kind of fan who pushes you, points things out that haven't been done yet and should be doing according to your ideas, the kind of fan who follows us into the men's room wanting to know just which kind of echo machine The Edge is using for this song or that."
He intertwined two things about America in his speech, it's literal, current power as a superpower, and it's potential power arising from a mass of people's concerns, to inform and entreat us. "You out there in America, you have the power, you only need the will to help Africa with the drugs it needs for HIV/AIDS, to help get rid of poverty there, not like the poverty here, it's the kind of stupid poverty that lets the youngest die because the lack of something very simple."
As he brought his final points home, my sense of "it's Bono speaking" melted away into just his words and concern, the rise and fall of his inflections, the changes in voice tone. "You can be the Generation to change this. We won't solve everything in Africa. There's corruption, but we can make a great difference. When we went across America on the DATA bus, we had all kinds of people on it, people from the churches, construction workers and accountants. Once, here in America a woman finally headed up a major company, a black man could finally run for President. Now let's take the next step in equality because if we really thought the people of Africa were our equals then we couldn't take it, seeing so many of them die right now. Equality shouldn't be a matter of where you are born, it should just be. You are the generation that really can make this next step forward."
One of the last things Bono said after wrapping up the points he wanted to make was, "I promise, the next time you see me it'll be with the band." I'm sure some folks scoffed at that, but it got another roar. I thought it was a good speech, I'm proud of the way he's blended his honed stagecraft as front man in one of the world's super groups with the passion of his caring and the knowledge he's needed to learn to help make a difference to enlighten, help, nudge, cajole, push depending on who he's addressing at any given time.
I'm glad that I was there and stuck it out to hear Bono this different way, in another major aspect/expression in his life. Thanks again, Bono. Be well and go well.
My weekend was set, I had an obligation to get going on so I was only going to allow myself a few hours each day on the net for relaxation. Friday night I visited a Tolkien site before heading to some U2 sites. A headline quickly caught my eye, "Alert! Alert!" went my brain, "Probable U2 sighting opportunity, Bono to speak as late addition to the Concert in Tribeca." No matter which hyperlinks I jumped around to for the festival, I couldn't find when on May 8th this was supposed to happen.
I'd run in less than a heartbeat to hear Bono sing, with or with out his bandmates (though I prefer with them), but speaking? Yeah, this was very interesting to me, a different opportunity. I'd read some of his speeches excerpts, impressed with Bono's dogged devotion to trying to learn, contact and connect with people in general, and people in power to bring knowledge and effect change.
Groggy with a cold, I overslept on Saturday. I ran to the subway, luckily only a 20-minute ride from my part of Brooklyn to the first station in Lower Manhattan. But while working on a piece of jewelry on the train I missed my station connection, not noticing until the Manhattan Bridge where this express line crosses finally caught my attention. Now I'd be a mile away instead of one minute from the local stop. I was just too tired to go dashing downtown (even for Bono) with a cold, so I decided to double back on the subway. Construction and resulting service changes made the massive Canal Street station even more Escher-like trying get to the Brooklyn-bound local at a different platform than usual. I got there and onto the train. When the time took too long for the next Manhattan local station to appear and the cheery sun came glancing through the windows again--I was going right back across the bridge.
I finally arrived at the right station at 1:30. Since I didn't know the day's schedule I was afraid Bono might have been done already, but there was no crowd at Battery Park, let alone Bono. I was directed to the main entrance to ask the staff about Bono's speech. While I waited for them to finish their meeting, a few people sitting around the benches said to me, "Hey, don't crash the line." Those few people were the line at that point. They showed me the tickets with instructions stating the gate would open at 4:30. Why I thought it was going to be an afternoon concert, I don't know.
I returned at 6:30, a half hour later than I figured I should have been there. I went back to the perimeter of the park where I first was, arriving right in the middle of Macy Gray's set. She was dressed in a peachy-colored, flowing dress singing away, with a funky, hip-hop tinged band and background singers behind her. They were all whipping up a storm and that was good, since it was colder than it had been for the last several days, and dancing helped me keep warm. Though she on stage said she was cold.
The stage was about block away from me, mostly to my left. Luckily, there was a Jumbotron attached to the right side of the stage so I could actually see Macy as a smallish figure in the opening, right between the main back and the front-part section of the stage, while the rest of the band was blocked by the same main side back of the stage.
When Macy finished I asked a few people near me who'd already played. The Black Eyed Peas were on before Macy Gray so there was still Steve Winwood and Van Morrison to go. They didn't mention Bono.
I strode over to the temporary corrugated-steel housing for the No. 1 train's South Ferry stops exit. Even after putting on a sweater, I decided to stay there. All I had to do was partially lean out the doorway to hear Winwood & Co play. When they finished I went right back to where I'd been. I really wanted to hear Bono, and prevent my cold from getting worse.
Logically, Bono would have to speak now, or he'd be losing at least part of the audience that stayed long enough to hear Van Morrison and then leave. Chris Tucker came up next to do some comedy when he said that Bono would be out in a few minutes. The crowd yelled loudly with some additional sharp-toned voices, suggesting that some people were surprised, and happily so. Those folks must have come later, and missed the earlier announcement that Bono would be speaking. A few minutes later Tucker leaned back saying, "You ready back there yet? No? All right, folks, you still got me." Finally he announced, "And here's Robert De Niro." After Mr. De Niro spoke about the [Tribeca Film] Festival he co-founded, he announced Bono, "Bono has something he wants to talk to you about." An even bigger cheer erupts from the crowd.
I was trying to see if I could actually see Bono come on to the stage, since I'd seen Macy make her entrance before. I didn't see him go up any stairs but suddenly saw him from the back right side heading toward the center microphone. He wore dark jeans, a double-pocketed dark-olive jacket, a white T-shirt and the olive hat.
"I'm a Rock Star," he said, the line he often opens with when starting one of his socio-political talks. A hearty roar from the crowd. He went into praising the Festival. "This is one of the best events of defiance down here in Lower Manhattan." Of course, everyone knew the allusion to the events of 9/11. The partially-battered, spherical sculpture that once stood on top of the low-rise circular, water-sluicing fountain in the middle of the World Trade Center Plaza that miraculously escaped not being crushed was right there in the park less than two blocks away from everyone.
Then he turned the energy into laughter. He chuckled and said, "I feel naked up here on stage without the band." He stopped, then started up again, "FCC, if you're listening right now, I said I 'feel' naked up here on stage, not that I am naked. Otherwise in tomorrow?s New York Post the headline would be 'Bono Naked in Battery Park.' I asked the guys if they wanted to join me here, they said, well, I can't tell you what they really said, this is a family event, it was something like, 'You're giving a speech about Africa to a rock concert crowd in New York City? Uh, oh! You're on your own!'"
Bono spoke of his love for New York City as a semi-adoptee, going from the delight of the available variety here to the sublime. "It's my favorite city in America. I can eat Korean food at 3 am. I can walk the streets where Langston Hughes and Bobby Kennedy walked." Then he went into a kind of litany via rock 'n roll analogies about his affection for America itself. His voice began to intensify.
"I've read your Declaration of Independence and your Constitution. America is an idea, more than any other country. There are great ideas that come out of my country, Ireland, but America is an idea in itself. I'm a great fan of America, but I'm the kind of fan who reads all the liner notes and credits, the kind of fan who pushes you, points things out that haven't been done yet and should be doing according to your ideas, the kind of fan who follows us into the men's room wanting to know just which kind of echo machine The Edge is using for this song or that."
He intertwined two things about America in his speech, it's literal, current power as a superpower, and it's potential power arising from a mass of people's concerns, to inform and entreat us. "You out there in America, you have the power, you only need the will to help Africa with the drugs it needs for HIV/AIDS, to help get rid of poverty there, not like the poverty here, it's the kind of stupid poverty that lets the youngest die because the lack of something very simple."
As he brought his final points home, my sense of "it's Bono speaking" melted away into just his words and concern, the rise and fall of his inflections, the changes in voice tone. "You can be the Generation to change this. We won't solve everything in Africa. There's corruption, but we can make a great difference. When we went across America on the DATA bus, we had all kinds of people on it, people from the churches, construction workers and accountants. Once, here in America a woman finally headed up a major company, a black man could finally run for President. Now let's take the next step in equality because if we really thought the people of Africa were our equals then we couldn't take it, seeing so many of them die right now. Equality shouldn't be a matter of where you are born, it should just be. You are the generation that really can make this next step forward."
One of the last things Bono said after wrapping up the points he wanted to make was, "I promise, the next time you see me it'll be with the band." I'm sure some folks scoffed at that, but it got another roar. I thought it was a good speech, I'm proud of the way he's blended his honed stagecraft as front man in one of the world's super groups with the passion of his caring and the knowledge he's needed to learn to help make a difference to enlighten, help, nudge, cajole, push depending on who he's addressing at any given time.
I'm glad that I was there and stuck it out to hear Bono this different way, in another major aspect/expression in his life. Thanks again, Bono. Be well and go well.
