No Humor Here

A bad memory can be like an injury, and like any other wound, the body heals itself and often covers it with a scar tissue. The pain of the moment will fade with time and all that can be seen is the faint trace of the original wound. And yet it seems the entire thing can rush back into our world, reliving the very event as if it happened yesterday.

Such is 9-11-01.

I recall, in vivid detail, standing in my kitchen in South Carolina, watching CNN. Watching is an understatement at best. I remember staring at the television and trying to make sense of what I was seeing. This had to be a movie advert, perhaps a promo for the latest “Die Hard” movie. This simply couldn’t be what the reporters proclaimed it to be; it just couldn’t be. Who and why would anyone fly an airplane, let alone 2 into the World Trade Center? How could this be happening?
I stood transfixed in the kitchen for what seemed like hours: in fact it was 15 minutes.
I called my wife, who was watching the same horror movie at her work place. She didn’t know what to say either, this was something beyond reason, and yet there was comfort in hearing each other’s voices.
I called a good friend back in California. It was barely after 6 there and the phone was answered by a very sleepy voice.
“Carl, just turn on CNN.” is all I really recall saying. It was enough. I could hear the reactions of my friends as they fought off the sleep to make sense of this early morning call. We talked later when we were both more coherent.

The day before, I had driven a good friend from London to the airport in Savannah Georgia. He had opted to come visit us in South Carolina before gong onto a business meeting in Houston. His original plan would have had him flying out of Boston on 9-11.
That always sticks with me.

In hindsight I now realize, that was the last time any of us would ever casually walk friends to the departing gate to wish them well on their flight. Life was never going to be the same.

Now flying is a major inconvenience. No shoes, shampoo and gels of any kind actually are a good thing. We all wait to see what other screwed up things these folks, who have declared “war” on us, will think up next to kill us.

So today I sit and wait to hear from my wife who is flying to Denver for work today. I hate to admit it but I always worry when she flies, it is sad that this even is a consideration.

Somewhere we got distracted by the Iraq deal. We seem to have put all our focus into a questionable war against a dude who it seemed had as much concern, if not more so, over Bin Laden then we did.
In the meanwhile “Binny and the Jets “ seem to have got a stronger foothold in Pakistan and Afghanistan. We seem no closer to capturing these clowns and each and every anniversary of the 9-11 I realize how vulnerable our lives have really become.

There is an old Sioux saying that applies here. “Don’t screw with a crazy man”
If there was only one crazy dude, I guess I would feel better. It feels like there is a shitload of these folks who’s sole intent is to hurt us; it’s what they do for a living.

That’s why I get nervous about my wife flying and I wish it wasn’t so.