There was a time in my life when I would be at 99 percent of the protests that took place in NYC. People wanted me there because they liked me, of course, but also because I took and posted epic photos that (we told ourselves) advanced the cause.
This tale connects to the cause of animal rights. Here’s the scene from January 2014:
I stood with about eight other “activists” in front of a midtown building that housed hundreds of businesses — including the offices of Air France/KLM. We chose this location because, at the time, Air France/KLM was the only airline that participated in shipping primates to be used in lab experiments. A despicable, heinous practice.
We had props like stuffed monkeys in cages and fake blood spilled on the sidewalk. That said, there were no Air France/KLM markings on the building so passersby had no idea why we were there. The few who stopped to ask required a 10-minute dissertation to get them up to speed. This old Facebook event page offers some of the details of the pressure campaign.
In this particular instance, we were proving our dedication [sic] by standing in our spot, chanting — just a few days after a significant snowstorm. The plows had created massive piles of snow but that did not deter such brave souls as us. In fact, we caused enough of a ruckus that the building’s head of security came out to confront us.
This dude was clearly an ex-cop. He tried accusing us of a laundry list of transgressions but was wrong on every count. I finally pointed out that yes, there was a violation happening: The security bro was smoking next to a sign that warned people not to smoke within a certain distance from the entrance. The big shot threatened to call the cops and left.
Then it happened…
Billy Joel emerged from the building. Even in his winter coat and hat, he was recognizable. A large SUV pulled up for him and the driver came out to lend a hand.
Billy was taking the longest time to find a way past the mountains of snow to get into his car and was getting himself into a frustrated, New York state of mind. Meanwhile, the other “activists” didn’t notice him and continued chanting at well… a random building. 🤡
“Their suffering! (point at the building) Your fault!”
“Their deaths! (point at the building) Your fault!”
The Piano Man™ stopped and gazed at us with a look of wonder as his driver approached. “Grab my arm,” he said to the musical millionaire, “and we’ll cross right here.”
As I snapped a photo, Billy Joel replied to the driver: “Whatever, man, just get me the hell away from the crazies.”
Postscript: I’ve deleted so many of my “activist” photos over the years and now have ZERO photographic proof of this particular story. So, you’re just gonna have to trust my honesty. But damn, I wish I could see Billy Joel again and declare: “You may be right.”
Haha. Oh well for the records, everything digital one day gets wiped out from the gravitational pole shirt regardless.
Wow...this is an incredible saga, and heart-wrenching parallel to today's "climate." I'm seventy-four years old; my animal rights history goes back to 1962, when the NYC press was actually not shying away from exposing the horrific backstory which has always been re the animal labs, etc. I brought in the most graphic photos for a speech in my seventh grade English class; what stands out for me is how that was, really, the last of the days when MSM of any sort "let us into" the labs. 1978 brought forth the stellar, Swiss genius: the author/speaker, Hans Ruesch; he will forever remain my hero. Next for me was speaking at a 1980 event on The Boston Common, sharing the bill with the courageous Henry Spira. After that, came the Silver Spring monkeys expose, a fleeting notice by a momentarily aghast public, apparently possessing the collective memory of a two-year-old. Fast forward to the brief, bright star which was Richard Morgan; the 1983 D.C. demonstration, and on and on. My last attendance at a demo was in Jacksonville, FL, against sleazy Feld Entertainment (as you know, Ringling Brothers "ringmasters.") Black S.U.V.'s passed slowly by us, unabashedly recording each of the protestors. In closing: thank you -- truly -- for all you do, and for your presence in today's stunning dystopia; I greatly admire your thought processes, and your ability to assure your readers feel they are not -- at all -- alone.