Heading towards the Brooklyn Bridge, Sep 11, 2001 (Associated Press photo) |
I don't know what to do with September 11 anymore.
Around here (metro NYC), it's still obviously a big deal.
We've noted it every year in this corner. You can find the posts if you so choose to.
But does the day register so much as a ripple outside of the northeast?
I know it means something in New York, Washington, and near Pittsburgh.
I guess I'm babbling.
Tomorrow, as usual, I'll remember. I'll play the audio. I'll watch the images.
But the routine has changed, and after looking at the archive, I realize I felt the same way last year.
I'm not one to go to ceremonies. They seem -- I don't know.
I think part of what's going on in my brain can also be explained in the hurricane(s) that are ravaging parts of the country right now.
I see it in, sadly, too many other events.
It's the need to enter politics into it.
A massive hurricane is beating on Florida as I type (Irma). I've worried for friends and extended family. I was helping make arrangements for family elsewhere (that wound up being unnecessary).
Yet somehow this becomes Donald Trumps' fault. Or Republicans. Or whatever.
Stop. No, seriously, stop.
Because, sadly, nobody has the balls to discuss these things rationally, I will stop.
Yet tomorrow, we'll watch (insert politician's name here*) pontificate.
*Except Fred Camillo. Fred is my friend. Plus he's a WGCH guy. Oh and he's a fan of the Steelers and Yankees. I've got to keep this somewhat light.
No. I don't need ceremonies. I don't need to be seen. I don't care if my picture gets in the paper.
I'll listen. I'll share stories. I'll probably discuss some of it on Doubleheader.
But I still don't know what to do with September 11.
Other than remember.
And never forget.