So that’s it. Forty six years after his solo career began, fifty-something after Simon & Garfunkel became all the rage and part of the culture, Paul Simon’s touring career ended last night, without fanfare, in Flushing Meadow Park. He played the same set he’d played the last few nights. There was no Art Garfunkel, just five S&G songs, no “Slip Sliding Away.” No “Mrs. Robinson.” A kind of throwaway “Bridge Over Troubled Water” in the middle of the set.

He’s not on the cover of either New York tabloid today either. If Billy Joel or Bruce Springsteen had retired, you know we’d have heard about it in a big way. At Elton John’s final show they’ll probably shoot him out of a cannon. But Simon? He went out with a whimper, not a bang.

What a strange ending. He didn’t seem to care how it was perceived, either. There were literally almost no press tickets given away. The sets for the shows were not particularly retrospective. And what seemed like an off hand comment at the first show– “Strange times…don’t give up”– was apparently scripted for all three New York shows. We thought it was profound on the first night. Reading about it again and again after the shows was…disappointing.

Still, that first show at MSG on Thursday night was in itself a winner, very much like Simon’s regular performances. The musicianship was of the highest quality. Working with his regular band, he brought in the New York based Y Music Ensemble, who were a revelation. As he’s done with African musicians, Simon didn’t appropriate anything– he showcased Y Music and integrated their unique classical sensibility into his own universe.

Simon says he’ll travel more now that he doesn’t have to tour. Okay, it’s not like anyone was stopping him from doing anything. He also says he’ll keep composing music, which is just fine since his last few albums– like “Surprise” and “Stranger to Stranger” — have been among his best even if they weren’t commercial hits.

But maybe one day before it’s too late he’ll indulge the fans, broker a peace with Garfunkel, and have a truly satisfying finale in my, his, and our little town.

I saw The Who retire a few times, beginning in the late 70s. They’re still playing somewhere. I think Bernie Williams retired from the Yankees three times.

Tonight, Paul Simon played the first of what he says are his three last dates on tour ever. This one was at Madison Square Garden. He didn’t look or seem sick. There was nothing in his demeanor to suggest that the end was near. Art Garfunkel was nowhere in sight. Simon didn’t play a retrospective evening. Indeed, he included a number of songs from very recent albums. The show was not that different than the one I saw in Forest Hills a couple of summers ago.

What’s going on? Who knows? A bid for attention? A hook by which to sell tickets?

Well, celebrities came: Clive Davis, comedian John Mullaney, the now infamous Louis CK, Joan Baez, veteran promoter Ron Delsener, probably a few that I missed.

Simon looks extremely refreshed. I mean, extremely. He’s 76, he was fit as a fiddle, has a very straight jawline and glistening cheeks. He looks like he’s ready for an overseas tour. Two more shows? Huh?

He announced this was his 101st show at Madison Square Garden. (“Tell Billy,” he joked about Billy Joel.) He mixed up a nearly three hour show with some Simon & Garfunkel, and a lot of solo numbers. “Bridger Over Troubled Water” was relegated to the middle, done in a new arrangement. He gave a nice shout out to Aretha Franklin, who had a hit with it. There was nary a mention of Art Garfunkel, who is not participating in this weekend’s faretheewell.

Simon says he may do some traveling now that he has time on his hands. (It’s not like we stopped him from going anywhere.) He said he will continue to compose music. My guess is, he’s back in two years, bored as hell.

Just for the record, he has nothing to prove. Before Billy or Bruce, he was New York’s pop poet laureate. (Dylan belongs to Hibbing, Minnesota). Simon’s songs just grow deeper as the years go. His “American Tune,” written in 1973 about Nixon and Watergate the absymal state of American politics, the death of 60s optimism, rings truer today.

“I don’t know a soul who’s not been battered
I don’t have a friend who feels at ease
I don’t know a dream that’s not been shattered or driven to its knee”

I mean, come on. Taylor Swift, Ed Sheeran, Katie Perry…that’s a song.

The audience — which filled 2/3 of the Garden, a third of the seats weren’t sold– sang along to “The Boxer.” Lai-la-lai.  “The Sound of Silence” echoed in our ears.

Paul Simon had better stick around in some form, that’s all I’m saying. I handed out Blimpie’s menus in the fall of 1975 to make enough money to see him at DAR Constitution Hall. Forty three years later, I have no regrets.