sigh
It's that time again, time to 'remember' (i.e. flog) September 11th. I lived in New York when the terrorists attacked America. I lost my business because of it and ended up moving back to Seattle to start over - which meant six months living on my sister's couch while I got my bearings again.
I haven't forgotten 9/11. I haven't forgotten the smell of the city while it burned, or the look on people's faces while they went about the business of picking up their lives. I haven't forgotten the Anthrax threat that followed or the sight of Army officers in the airports, and the security cordon around parts of the city or the stories I heard from friends, acquaintances and even strangers.
I don't need the media to keep reminding me to remember. At this point I wish we could return to some of that great American stoicism that so marked the generation who fought WWII. A time where we didn't have to remember all the goddamn time.
I'll be turning off the tv and most media for the rest of the weekend.
And I will still remember.