Dear Mr. Waters

I am not sure how to begin this letter as I have so much to say to you and I don’t want to come across as a fanatic or a crank although, seeing as the entire mafia that is todays media has labeled you as such - coupled with the knowledge of your character and how you are a champion of the very few on the fringes or otherwise, that cannot help but say what their hearts implore them to voice, regardless of the consequences, I believe that these words may be considered.

I suppose that I am a bleeding heart and artist, and mainly this is your fault.

Thanks a lot.

Before we get into the politics and saving the world, which I thought I would eventually grow out of, I think it is necessary to illustrate how much your life and your art has to do with the trajectory of my own existence.

I used to dream of meeting John Lennon even though he was assassinated ten years or so before I was born.

I often cry when I think of his death, in fact I am presently swallowing my heart that his risen to my throat for the very mention of this great tragedy.

I think if I was able to speak to Mr. Lennon, I would simply say “Thank you for everything.”

The other person I used to dream about meeting someday is you.

In fact.

I started a band when I was 17 and have had no success other than the reward of spending nearly the amount of years in my life pursing music than I had lived when I first took one small step and one giant leap into this quixotic yet, fulfilling endeavor.

Anyway….Enough about me.

Let’s talk about me.

The Final Cut is my favorite record. 

I recall an embarrassing moment when I was twelve or so, when my older sister walked into my bedroom and I was laying on my bed, blaring that CD, singing every word and pantomiming conducting the strings and other instrumentations.

I played The Final Cut so many times on my CD player that it eventually warped or possibly melted from the unforgiving Northern Nevada heat, as my lower middle class family could not afford to run the A/C unit.

Enough gushing about how much I idolize you… for now.

I want to be honest and say the following.

My best friend; he is around your age. He is a mentor and saved my life and is good man.

He is Jewish.

He sends me several articles a month about how you are anti-Semitic.

And I am shamefully admitting that I never read any of them and that, even though you are possibly the person who I have looked up to the most and made the most substantial impact on who I am today, I started to believe my friend that you are of the mindset of what he is convinced of about you.

I finally got around to doing, as your amazing and strong mother instilled in you, reading about things that are weighing on me. And I followed through with the other bit of advice she gave you when she said this. 

Read up on the opposition, the other side.

I have deduced…

That you truly are the hero that I grew up admiring and although I am now a geriatric millennial and maybe too far along in life and too poor and too marginalized because of the particular sect of society that I am apart of to stand up for what my heart says is right, your bravery and your concern for basic human rights as well as your conviction to keep standing your ground on these issues, it inspires me so much and has given me strength.

At the risk of deafening the point.

Mr. Waters.

You are a hero and…

Thank you for everything.