New Yorkers have a long-standing reputation for rudeness. But I think that’s unfair, and I can prove it using a 305-foot-tall piece of evidence: the Statue of Liberty.
Most people are at least vaguely aware that the statue was a gift from France sent over to celebrate the 100th anniversary of American independence. But there are a few things we often forget.
First, the gift was a bit late. As in, a decade late. It was finally dedicated in 1886 (130 years ago this week, actually). And when it did arrive, it was in pieces; 350 pieces, sent over in 214 crates, to be exact. It’s like if your friend was to give you some IKEA furniture for your birthday, but not bother assembling it for you.
Second, it wasn’t exactly a gift. While France paid for the construction of the statue itself, America was left to pay for the pedestal. In the end, thousands of Americans donated the $100 000 required to ensure that Lady Liberty didn’t have to lie down.
Finally, it was made of copper. Which is fine, but it’s very thin (0.094 inches, or less than two pennies) and has been damaged several times over the years. After a German saboteur’s bomb exploded nearby in 1916, another hundred grand was spent repairing it. And of course, copper being copper, it had completely oxidized within a few years, from its original shiny dark-brown complexion to an unnatural and slightly off-putting green.
So, to recap, New Yorkers were willing to accept a gift that was ten years late, only partially paid for, required assembly and constant repairs, and was not weatherproof. But now, 130 years later, the gift is still sitting there, right in their front hall.
That’s a level of politeness that would make even a Canadian blush.
What makes this a beautiful song:
1. It begins with a minute and a half of noisy weirdness, before re-forming into a pretty guitar-driven melody. Kind of like the opposite of rust.
2. The background is filled with little bits of human percussion; toes tapping on floors, hands patting knees, fingers snapping.
3. There’s just something really good-humoured about it. The whistling, the wordless semi-singing. And rather than ending on a determined final chord, the players seem to just end when they feel like it. These are the type of easy-going people who would be okay with it if you showed up to their birthday party with no beer. They might even offer you theirs.
Recommended listening activity:
Wearing an item of clothing you were given as a gift, and sending a photo of yourself wearing it to the person who gave it to you.