Friday The 13th, Good Thing I Wasn't Doing Anything Important.
Felt amazingly good sleeping in today. I even woke up at like 6 by myself, then like 8 by myself, but purposely kept falling back to sleep until like 10. Then eventually had to get up for a dentist appointment. Found out that apparently I'll be working next week Monday Tuesday and Wednesday, up in Westwood. So instead of sitting on the 110, I'll be sitting on the 405. Change of scenery anyway. Finally, one week until I'll be back at school. Counting the days. The minutes even. 1080, give or take.
Headed over to see the West High football game tonight, and support the ol alma mater. We ended up taking a huge lead by halftime, and wiped the floor with South by a score of 56 or so to something smaller. The numbers got big, I lost count. Speaking of smaller, high school students seem to be headed that way. Couldn't possibly be me getting older. Some interesting fashion statements seem to be "in" as well. A few of the so called "cool" guys that walked by wearing the latest duds literally almost had me rolling. Utterly ridiculous. Whatever keeps them in the "in crowd" I guess. Also ran into the little sister of a friend of mine, who's not so little anymore. She recognized me even though I hadn't seen her in 5 years or so, I figure that's a good sign, I haven't changed as much as I thought maybe? It was her older sister I went to Magic Mountain and had a blast with a few weeks ago. Also ran into a few of my buddies who I've known through various things who are still in high school. That and was forced to make small talk with various sets of parents who apparently recognized me as well. It's rough being famous. Heh, well maybe in my head.
Changed my AIM profile for the first time in a long while, it needed it. I'd like to think I'm no longer searching for anything and the title of this page is now irrelevant as well, but subconsciously that'll never be the case.
Wednesday, September 11, 2002
September 11th, Plus One Year.
The young man steps out from the doorway of the parking structure, into the chorus of taxi's horns and roaring engines. The sunlight streams between two of the skyscrapers, blinding him temporarily. He walks towards the corner, past a shady niche in a nearby building where an elderly homeless man has taken up refuge from the sun. Squinting upwards, he faintly mouths the words "Good for you, sonny" as the young man passes by. He arrives at the crosswalk, and waits for the signal to change. It does, and he and the rest of the wave of men and women step forth into the street. Another wave approaches from the other side, and he happens to meet the gaze of a middle-aged African-American man in an expensive business suit. He smiles and gives a thumbs up sign as their paths cross. As the young man approaches the building at which he'll begin his day of work, he greets the door-opener as he has each day, for many days prior. "Way to represent, Sir" is the reply he receives as he enters the building. He pushes the elevator button, and while he waits for the car that will expediate his journey to the 29th floor, he notices a young woman approach, wearing a bright red dress, with a blue blouse. "I like that" she says with a grin, indicating his clothing. "Thanks" he says, grinning back, as the bell dings and they both step into the elevator. As he doors close, the metallic surface shows a crystal clear reflection of the young man staring back at him. Glancing down, he acknowledges with pride the bold American flag emblazoned across the chest of his t-shirt with three huge letters. U. S. A.
December 7th. June 6th. November 22nd. Jaunary 28th. And now, September 11. Every generation has its Day of Days. You may not know the significance of all the above dates. That's probably because you weren't alive, then. For those who were, these dates probably mean more than most when they write them on a check, a homework assignment, or any other document. An entire nation was affected, on each of these tragic days. People say that this is the first time the United States has ever been downright attacked on our own soil. Clearly, they've forgotten 1941, when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. They say that this will be the most daring War the United States has ever been involved in, and the most necessary. Cleary, they've forgotten the most famous Day of Days of them all, D-Day 1944. They say it's the first time the nation as a whole has grieved. Yet everyone knows where they were in 1963, when Kennedy was shot. They even say the reason it's so painful is the fact it was so shocking, so unexpected, and that it's more saddening because the people involved had no idea it was coming. Although I was too young to fully understand, I remember watching the video of the Challenger explosion in 1986, which unexpectedly took the lives of those much too young to lose them. Unfortunately, there is now another tragic date that will be remembered, year after year. I wonder where I'll be in fifty years, and how many of these days I'll have lived through, only to have them haunt my memories.
When considering what I would write tonight, I was at a loss. Just about everyone in the world has said something about that day, what it meant, what it will lead to, how it affected them. The truth is, the latter is where I differ from the majority. I was lucky enough to not know a single human being personally that perished that day. The emotional and psychological loss that thousands of people across America have felt for the past year, is foreign to me. I know only the numbers involved, but can't imagine the faces, or the people, behind the 3,025 dead. I've read more about September 11th than any other day in my lifetime. The magazines, the newspapers, the media in all its forms, have helped me learn more about what happened that day, and helped me understand what my fellow Americans are feeling.
September 11th for me, was simple. I woke up at 11am or so, Pacific time. It was all over. I saw nothing live, witnessed nothing as it happened. As people died instantly when the planes hit the towers, I slept. As thousands of others died in the aftermath, I slept. I know not what I dreamt of that night, but I certainly had no idea that devestation was taking place on the other side of my own country. Reading my blogs from that day, and the next, and later that week, it only took me a few days to get back to business as usual. Same old jokes, same old stories, same old visible me. Invisibly, I was different. I remember thinking it would be a long time before I could really vocalize what I was feeling. I've always been somewhat articulate, but the situations in which I need to be most desperately, I'm always at a loss. There are many images from that day that are burned in my memory, but one more painfully affects me the most. The image of one of the thousands of people who had lost a loved one, holding up a picture to the camera, their husband most likely, with the words "Missing from Disaster" across the top. The look on their face on the surface is one of hope. Look closer though, and you can see that fear and a deeper sadness are taking over, even as we watch.
I can't even imagine what it must have been like to be there. To be the firefighters rushing toward the building after the first plane hit, thinking only of their job, and how to get it done, having no premonition that there might be a second plane, or that either building might actually collapse. To be the people in the street, staring upwards at flames a thousand feet above their heads. To be the people in the tower itself, feeling the initial explosion, confused, wondering, what would happen next.
As I sit here I'm watching the CBS special 9/11, for the second time. It's truly unbelievable. People from all over the world in the streets, afraid. I read a fact today, that people from 91 countries lost their lives. That number is staggering. This was not an attack on one nation's people. This was an attack that did not spare women, did not spare children, did not just kill U.S. citizens, and instead killed mankind indiscriminantly.
When asked why I've made the decision to join the military, one answer is easy. To defend this country to the best of my ability, and prevent this kind of terror from ever happening again. My generation was innocent to this point, living their lives as if they would never have to lift a finger in order to defend the freedom this country stands for. These attacks have shown that nothing comes free. I don't see myself ever being happy with a job where I merely reap the benefits of this country and its freedoms, without ever making any sacrifices to preserve them. Sitting in a cubicle somewhere, completely unaware that all over the planet, people are fighting to protect this bubble of a world we're living in. Maybe aware from a history book that sometime long ago, countless people died to create this country, and preserve its values. That oblivious kind of life is not one I will ever choose to lead.
Whether or not I spend my life following orders in the skies, or end up serving the country and its people in another form, such as firefighting, paramedics, or law enforcement, that's the only way I'll avoid having an empty feeling inside, an empty soul. This is not a perfect world. We can only try to pretend. We can only try to make it a better place for those that come after us. We can only try to prevent terrible things from happening to those we love. We can only try.
I feel like I have no right to be saying any of this. My life continues. Basically unaffected, on the surface.
To all those negatively affected by the greatest tragedy I've lived to see:
As time passes, all wounds heal. Scars remain. They serve as reminders of the past, so that we'll never forget.
You learn, you change, you remember, you live. Most importantly, you live. So many people lost the chance to do so, unwillingly. Too young, too soon. Never take for granted a day that you spend alive. Remember the terrible cost of freedom. Remember the terrible price of peace. Remember those who lost their lives, and those who were responsible.
Remember September 11th. May nothing like it ever come again.
The young man steps out from the doorway of the parking structure, into the chorus of taxi's horns and roaring engines. The sunlight streams between two of the skyscrapers, blinding him temporarily. He walks towards the corner, past a shady niche in a nearby building where an elderly homeless man has taken up refuge from the sun. Squinting upwards, he faintly mouths the words "Good for you, sonny" as the young man passes by. He arrives at the crosswalk, and waits for the signal to change. It does, and he and the rest of the wave of men and women step forth into the street. Another wave approaches from the other side, and he happens to meet the gaze of a middle-aged African-American man in an expensive business suit. He smiles and gives a thumbs up sign as their paths cross. As the young man approaches the building at which he'll begin his day of work, he greets the door-opener as he has each day, for many days prior. "Way to represent, Sir" is the reply he receives as he enters the building. He pushes the elevator button, and while he waits for the car that will expediate his journey to the 29th floor, he notices a young woman approach, wearing a bright red dress, with a blue blouse. "I like that" she says with a grin, indicating his clothing. "Thanks" he says, grinning back, as the bell dings and they both step into the elevator. As he doors close, the metallic surface shows a crystal clear reflection of the young man staring back at him. Glancing down, he acknowledges with pride the bold American flag emblazoned across the chest of his t-shirt with three huge letters. U. S. A.
December 7th. June 6th. November 22nd. Jaunary 28th. And now, September 11. Every generation has its Day of Days. You may not know the significance of all the above dates. That's probably because you weren't alive, then. For those who were, these dates probably mean more than most when they write them on a check, a homework assignment, or any other document. An entire nation was affected, on each of these tragic days. People say that this is the first time the United States has ever been downright attacked on our own soil. Clearly, they've forgotten 1941, when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. They say that this will be the most daring War the United States has ever been involved in, and the most necessary. Cleary, they've forgotten the most famous Day of Days of them all, D-Day 1944. They say it's the first time the nation as a whole has grieved. Yet everyone knows where they were in 1963, when Kennedy was shot. They even say the reason it's so painful is the fact it was so shocking, so unexpected, and that it's more saddening because the people involved had no idea it was coming. Although I was too young to fully understand, I remember watching the video of the Challenger explosion in 1986, which unexpectedly took the lives of those much too young to lose them. Unfortunately, there is now another tragic date that will be remembered, year after year. I wonder where I'll be in fifty years, and how many of these days I'll have lived through, only to have them haunt my memories.
When considering what I would write tonight, I was at a loss. Just about everyone in the world has said something about that day, what it meant, what it will lead to, how it affected them. The truth is, the latter is where I differ from the majority. I was lucky enough to not know a single human being personally that perished that day. The emotional and psychological loss that thousands of people across America have felt for the past year, is foreign to me. I know only the numbers involved, but can't imagine the faces, or the people, behind the 3,025 dead. I've read more about September 11th than any other day in my lifetime. The magazines, the newspapers, the media in all its forms, have helped me learn more about what happened that day, and helped me understand what my fellow Americans are feeling.
September 11th for me, was simple. I woke up at 11am or so, Pacific time. It was all over. I saw nothing live, witnessed nothing as it happened. As people died instantly when the planes hit the towers, I slept. As thousands of others died in the aftermath, I slept. I know not what I dreamt of that night, but I certainly had no idea that devestation was taking place on the other side of my own country. Reading my blogs from that day, and the next, and later that week, it only took me a few days to get back to business as usual. Same old jokes, same old stories, same old visible me. Invisibly, I was different. I remember thinking it would be a long time before I could really vocalize what I was feeling. I've always been somewhat articulate, but the situations in which I need to be most desperately, I'm always at a loss. There are many images from that day that are burned in my memory, but one more painfully affects me the most. The image of one of the thousands of people who had lost a loved one, holding up a picture to the camera, their husband most likely, with the words "Missing from Disaster" across the top. The look on their face on the surface is one of hope. Look closer though, and you can see that fear and a deeper sadness are taking over, even as we watch.
I can't even imagine what it must have been like to be there. To be the firefighters rushing toward the building after the first plane hit, thinking only of their job, and how to get it done, having no premonition that there might be a second plane, or that either building might actually collapse. To be the people in the street, staring upwards at flames a thousand feet above their heads. To be the people in the tower itself, feeling the initial explosion, confused, wondering, what would happen next.
As I sit here I'm watching the CBS special 9/11, for the second time. It's truly unbelievable. People from all over the world in the streets, afraid. I read a fact today, that people from 91 countries lost their lives. That number is staggering. This was not an attack on one nation's people. This was an attack that did not spare women, did not spare children, did not just kill U.S. citizens, and instead killed mankind indiscriminantly.
When asked why I've made the decision to join the military, one answer is easy. To defend this country to the best of my ability, and prevent this kind of terror from ever happening again. My generation was innocent to this point, living their lives as if they would never have to lift a finger in order to defend the freedom this country stands for. These attacks have shown that nothing comes free. I don't see myself ever being happy with a job where I merely reap the benefits of this country and its freedoms, without ever making any sacrifices to preserve them. Sitting in a cubicle somewhere, completely unaware that all over the planet, people are fighting to protect this bubble of a world we're living in. Maybe aware from a history book that sometime long ago, countless people died to create this country, and preserve its values. That oblivious kind of life is not one I will ever choose to lead.
Whether or not I spend my life following orders in the skies, or end up serving the country and its people in another form, such as firefighting, paramedics, or law enforcement, that's the only way I'll avoid having an empty feeling inside, an empty soul. This is not a perfect world. We can only try to pretend. We can only try to make it a better place for those that come after us. We can only try to prevent terrible things from happening to those we love. We can only try.
I feel like I have no right to be saying any of this. My life continues. Basically unaffected, on the surface.
To all those negatively affected by the greatest tragedy I've lived to see:
As time passes, all wounds heal. Scars remain. They serve as reminders of the past, so that we'll never forget.
You learn, you change, you remember, you live. Most importantly, you live. So many people lost the chance to do so, unwillingly. Too young, too soon. Never take for granted a day that you spend alive. Remember the terrible cost of freedom. Remember the terrible price of peace. Remember those who lost their lives, and those who were responsible.
Remember September 11th. May nothing like it ever come again.
Tuesday, September 10, 2002
The Day's Eve.
On this day at this time a year ago, I was in the dining room tinkering with new computer hardware, trying to get my computer working again.
It was a night like any other night. Unfortunately the next day would be different.
Unfortunately I'm working tomorrow, but will be writing on the subject tomorrow night.
On this day at this time a year ago, I was in the dining room tinkering with new computer hardware, trying to get my computer working again.
It was a night like any other night. Unfortunately the next day would be different.
Unfortunately I'm working tomorrow, but will be writing on the subject tomorrow night.
Monday, September 09, 2002
Isn't It Time To Go Back Yet?
Another dull day at work, although less dull than usual. Spent most of the day downstairs in the Kaplan center in the mall running tests, which involves putting a scantron form through the machine and then waiting for it to print out an 8 page results form thingy... Over the past few days I've had to do about 400, and I have at least 300 more to go. Luckily since I'm down in the mall I'm not under any kind of supervision, so I have a good time chatting up a storm with the friendly people who man the front desk down there. That and lunch is closer, no wasted time in the elevator. I got my hours switched to 9:30 to 5:30, since this whole staying til 6 and not getting home until 7 thing is getting real old. I even got a dinner date for tomorrow! Well sort of. Anyway.
Finally got around to finishing Band of Brothers the other day, which I now consider pretty much required viewing for anyone pondering the military track through life. Even if you're not, it's quite powerful and educational viewing, I learned a lot about the second World War that I had never been taught previously. Going to have to get around to watching a lot of the war movies I've missed out on over the years, including a few of the classics. The miniseries though was very well done, which didn't surprise me given it was directed by Tom Hanks and produced by Steven Spielberg.
Under two weeks to go I guess, can't wait to see how huge my new room is.
Another dull day at work, although less dull than usual. Spent most of the day downstairs in the Kaplan center in the mall running tests, which involves putting a scantron form through the machine and then waiting for it to print out an 8 page results form thingy... Over the past few days I've had to do about 400, and I have at least 300 more to go. Luckily since I'm down in the mall I'm not under any kind of supervision, so I have a good time chatting up a storm with the friendly people who man the front desk down there. That and lunch is closer, no wasted time in the elevator. I got my hours switched to 9:30 to 5:30, since this whole staying til 6 and not getting home until 7 thing is getting real old. I even got a dinner date for tomorrow! Well sort of. Anyway.
Finally got around to finishing Band of Brothers the other day, which I now consider pretty much required viewing for anyone pondering the military track through life. Even if you're not, it's quite powerful and educational viewing, I learned a lot about the second World War that I had never been taught previously. Going to have to get around to watching a lot of the war movies I've missed out on over the years, including a few of the classics. The miniseries though was very well done, which didn't surprise me given it was directed by Tom Hanks and produced by Steven Spielberg.
Under two weeks to go I guess, can't wait to see how huge my new room is.
Sunday, September 08, 2002
The Theme Song Ends...
Luck was a lady... this morning...
Turned out the last table I played at ended up the best, as I walked away with loads of twenties after an excellent stint of blackjack on the way to the car. Was just using a 7 for 5 coupon thing, ended up getting up to forty bucks, then decided to throw the rest all up for the last hand since the father was in a hurry, and low and behold got blackjack and walked away with a fat wallet. Always nice to end your tirp on a high note. That put me just about even on the trip, and given the room was free, and the father was picking up the food and gas bills, so everything worked out quite well.
Also headed out on Saturday to visit the grandparents, which became interesting since we took my grandfather's old rifles, shotguns, and various other weapons out to the shooting range in the middle of the desert (he lives in Boulder City, near Lake Mead and Hoover Dam about a half hour out of Vegas) and blew some stuff around. I'd never fired a gun in my life prior, so it took me a bit to get the hang of things, but it was surprisingly easier than I expected. The crowning moment was when we set a 7up can I'd just finished drinking about twenty five yards out and braced it with a rock, and I backed off a ways and fired off the first 7 shots of an 8 shot magazine, and managed to put them all clean through the can, incluidng one right through the middle of the red dot. :) The 7th shot knocked it over, so the silver bottom was facing me, so I managed to put the final shot through the bottom of it slightly off center, tearing a hole clean down the side of the can. The .22 I was firing for that clip ended up being my favorite, was quite fun. Also got a chance to blast a 12 gauge, and figure out the definition of the term "recoil." I avoided the 16 gauge after that, especially once the .22 pistol we had brought as well blew out my hearing for a good couple of minutes. That thing was LOUD. Hearing protection is always an intelligent thing to bring. So needless to say I got pretty comfortable with the concept of knowing how to shoot a gun, should the situation ever require it.
Interesting thing about driving around with my Dad in Vegas, is he's one of those ppl who just refuses to read signs or follow directions. There was not a SINGLE parking structure in which we didn't go the wrong way down an aisle, through a Do Not Enter sign, or end up having to back up a great distance to fix a mistake. That and of course the first available spot close to the elevator is never the one we take, as there's always supposedly a "closer one," which we spend several minutes circling trying to find. Then there's the freeway exploits, swerving around trying to find the "best lane." Nothing like a little extra stress on vacation. The concept of utter relaxation is lost on many people I guess.
Who knows, maybe one of these months they'll send me another thing for free rooms, and I'll get to go back. It's a very long drive from school though, would have to have an entourage along with me to keep it interesting. :) Believe it or not I have a friend or two who have never been there, boy are they in for a treat.
Alas, I go back to work tomorrow, it was a three day weekend for me, and it passed so quick. Luckily squeezed in a haircut today, it was gettin pretty ridiculous. I'm quite cheerful at the moment, hope working doesn't downgrade the mood.
Luck was a lady... this morning...
Turned out the last table I played at ended up the best, as I walked away with loads of twenties after an excellent stint of blackjack on the way to the car. Was just using a 7 for 5 coupon thing, ended up getting up to forty bucks, then decided to throw the rest all up for the last hand since the father was in a hurry, and low and behold got blackjack and walked away with a fat wallet. Always nice to end your tirp on a high note. That put me just about even on the trip, and given the room was free, and the father was picking up the food and gas bills, so everything worked out quite well.
Also headed out on Saturday to visit the grandparents, which became interesting since we took my grandfather's old rifles, shotguns, and various other weapons out to the shooting range in the middle of the desert (he lives in Boulder City, near Lake Mead and Hoover Dam about a half hour out of Vegas) and blew some stuff around. I'd never fired a gun in my life prior, so it took me a bit to get the hang of things, but it was surprisingly easier than I expected. The crowning moment was when we set a 7up can I'd just finished drinking about twenty five yards out and braced it with a rock, and I backed off a ways and fired off the first 7 shots of an 8 shot magazine, and managed to put them all clean through the can, incluidng one right through the middle of the red dot. :) The 7th shot knocked it over, so the silver bottom was facing me, so I managed to put the final shot through the bottom of it slightly off center, tearing a hole clean down the side of the can. The .22 I was firing for that clip ended up being my favorite, was quite fun. Also got a chance to blast a 12 gauge, and figure out the definition of the term "recoil." I avoided the 16 gauge after that, especially once the .22 pistol we had brought as well blew out my hearing for a good couple of minutes. That thing was LOUD. Hearing protection is always an intelligent thing to bring. So needless to say I got pretty comfortable with the concept of knowing how to shoot a gun, should the situation ever require it.
Interesting thing about driving around with my Dad in Vegas, is he's one of those ppl who just refuses to read signs or follow directions. There was not a SINGLE parking structure in which we didn't go the wrong way down an aisle, through a Do Not Enter sign, or end up having to back up a great distance to fix a mistake. That and of course the first available spot close to the elevator is never the one we take, as there's always supposedly a "closer one," which we spend several minutes circling trying to find. Then there's the freeway exploits, swerving around trying to find the "best lane." Nothing like a little extra stress on vacation. The concept of utter relaxation is lost on many people I guess.
Who knows, maybe one of these months they'll send me another thing for free rooms, and I'll get to go back. It's a very long drive from school though, would have to have an entourage along with me to keep it interesting. :) Believe it or not I have a friend or two who have never been there, boy are they in for a treat.
Alas, I go back to work tomorrow, it was a three day weekend for me, and it passed so quick. Luckily squeezed in a haircut today, it was gettin pretty ridiculous. I'm quite cheerful at the moment, hope working doesn't downgrade the mood.
