Monday, September 11, 2006

No Bad Guys. No Fire Trucks.

In September, 2001, the younger son of one of my college friends was IIRC, three. His mom believed that she was doing a good job of protecting him from the nonstop horror on TV until the day she walked to the VCR to put on "Blue's Clues" and Aharon (not his real name) screamed "No bad guys! No fire trucks!"

That's kind of where I am at the moment. I don't want to watch any of the TV coverage. I don't want to read the "Where are they now" stories. (Terrorists still in hell. Families of the dead still grieving. Babies born after their fathers died at the WTC and Pentagon now in preschool and kindergarten. U.S. still in Afghanistan. Afghanistan still in poor condition. Bin Laden still making home movies. Am I sounding cynical yet? I'm not. Oh God, it shouldn't happen to a West-coast liberal that the sound of that syrupy 'where eagles fly' song in Walgreens can reduce me to tears.)

BTW: "Saint of 9/11". Biodocumentary about Father Mychal Judge, a NYFD chaplain who died at the World Trade Center. Awesome, spiritually inspiring, very very good for the Irish soul. Check it out.

I have a post I want to write about the apparent immutability of people's political and social perspectives, and how 9/11 didn't change people's mind about things, but I don't think I want to write it this evening. Maybe tomorrow. Or over the weekend.

1 comment:

Friar Yid (not Shlita) said...

This pretty much describes most of what I felt for most of this week.

I think I'll write a post about this, actually.