Saturday, September 07, 2002

If we manage to get Sage a US VISA then Nikki and I will fly with her to New York next month. I hope there won't be complications. Sage already has her passport, Nikki has her US passport and I have my 10 year VISA. It would be nice for Sage to visit her Gramma (and maybe even my dad in Las Vegas) and for us to catch whatever is showing on Broadway or Off-Broadway. I'm not sure if we need to bring her with us to Embassy, though. And ultimately, it would be great to take a break from work. I just have to be ready to take off my shoes and not make a big deal of it (unlike one of our senators recently).

And of course, we'll be flying.

9/11 is coming next week, a year from the horror. Everywhere I turn, its the topic. What has changed? People are more frightened. People are angrier. People are more suspicious. People are braver. People remember. People don't care. But I'm afraid that those who don't particularly care because they lost no one, being a world away, are simply not cognizant of the fact that we all lost something that day, regardless of our politics or how we feel about America, the self-appointed savior of the world. Some people continue to walk around oblivious as people who are unaware that they are ill. Some people continue to rage and burn. Some people just...continue.

The barely spoken notion is that there will be a reprise, a violent anniversary. From a societal vantage point, especially one that is used to celebrating or commemorating or remembering times both good and bad, it makes a certain hideous sense. From the enemy's perspective, it would make a hell of statement - "we did it once, we'll do it again". From victimized's point of view, well, it's like waiting for the other shoe to drop, a mix of helpless paranoia and desire for closure. From a writer's angle, it makes for logical story flow, assuming we are not writing in a postmodern mode, in which case, nothing will happen. From a moviemaker's view, it has the makings of a sequel. From mine, I simply hope it never comes to pass.

It's important that we move on, do something, yes, but move on. Not because we choose to ignore what has happened, not because we are brave, but because if we cease to move we cease to live. Which is why, like everyone else, I'll take my family on a plane.

After all, there comes a time when, given all the possibilities, risks and uncertainties, you just have to say "ah, fuck it" and jump.


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