DEATH TAKES A HOLIDAY

February 4, 2010

Whenever I get too jaded and pessimistic about the state of the world, I find hope and solace in marking this unlikely day of redemption, February 4th.

I used to live in New York City (and no, that’s not an oxymoron – but ‘growing up in California’ is.) During that time I played music in a duo called Kick at Heaven (later The Nonchalants), with my wonderful friend Jean Synodinos. Jean is a gifted songwriter, and a keen observer of both world events and human behavior. A few years ago – 1994 – she read an article in the very back pages of The New York Post. The article said that that the day before, February 4th, marked the first time in recorded history that no crime had been reported in the city of New York. Not a single rape, murder or robbery. “The cops had nothing to do but eat donuts”, Jean later said.

A watermark date in Big Apple history, buried underneath an ad for Crazy Eddie on page 36.

Redemption is found in the unlikliest of places.

Jean seized the moment and wrote an amazing and inspiring song, called ‘February 4th’, commemorating this little-known, little-celebrated but remarkable day in New York.

Here’s the opening verse:

“Well you can read the news with a cynical eye,
sometimes I let it pass me by.
It’s a whole lot safer stayin’ deaf and dumb,
a whole lot warmer stayin’ cold and numb.
But I read it on a cold, cold Saturday . .
woke up and said, ‘You heard us pray.’
On February 4th this year,
the city shed a few less hundred tears and children really got to play.
Violent death took a holiday.

I went back, had to read it some more,
the cops said this had never happened before.
No incidents to report, they said -
no woman was raped, no blood was shed.
Like peace just sat in the hearts of all,
and hand in hand we all stood tall . . .
On February 4th this year,
the city shed a few less hundred tears and children really got to play . . .
violent death took a holiday.”

The song goes on, but you’ll have a challenging time finding it or hearing it. To the best of my knowledge, it was never released in a commercial recording. But anyone who’s ever been lucky enough to hear it has never forgotten it, nor the remarkable occasion that served as a catalyst for its creator. (You can find out more about Jean Synodinos and her work at http://www.jeansynodinos.com/.)

Celebrate the anniversary of the day when ‘violent death took a holiday’ with a decidedly strange and little-known cinematic oddity, 1939‘s ‘On Borrowed Time’. Lionel Barrymore stars as a curmudgeonly old grandpa who’s confined to a wheelchair. He manages to outfox Death – called ‘Mr. Scratch’ here – by keeping him at bay up a tree, powerless to do his job. But death delayed has unforeseen repercussions, and complications ensue. Part Rod Serling-esque fantasy, part Louie B. Mayer treacle, ‘On Borrowed Time’ is a genuinely strange film with moments of poetry, maudlin humor, and a lot of empty calories for thought.

Other suitable movies for this day: ‘The Day The Earth Stood Still’ (1953), the sci-fi classic about a Messianic alien (Michael Rennie) who journeys to earth to save mankind from itself (now there’s an oxymoron – ‘mankind’.) And, of course, ‘Death Takes A Holiday’.

Here's a clip from 'On Borrowed Time' . . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k191m7jrmOQ&feature=related