Utrecht, The Netherlands
I call this one "vegan aesthetic protein lover's dream" for two.
We Remember
(Originally posted in AND Magazine, September 11, 2011)
This week, we remember.
We remember where we were when we heard about the first plane hitting the tower. We remember what we thought as the news just began to trickle in. We remember our horror as we watched the second plane hit the other tower. We remember the evacuations – people running out of our monuments, our centers of government and finance, and spilling out on to the streets of our nation’s capital. We remember the dust and debris chasing thousands of New Yorkers through the streets of our most iconic city. We remember the smoke rising from the Pentagon. We remember that impact site in Pennsylvania. We remember watching the towers fall.
We remember the fear, the chaos, the sadness, and the feeling of not knowing what was happening or when it would end. We remember a feeling that Americans were not used to experiencing up to September 11, 2001: helplessness – the feeling of being attacked. We remember that the weather was perfect throughout almost the entire country that morning. We remember that we don’t remember what it felt like on September 10.
Do you remember pointing fingers? Do you remember placing blame? Do you remember partisanship? I remember patriotism. I remember flags and candles and donating water and giving blood and having a new appreciation for police officers and firefighters. I remember that I wasn’t a Democrat or a Republican. I remember that I was an American. I remember that we were all Americans. I remember that we cared a little bit more about each other for at least a couple of weeks.
When Democrat Lyndon Johnson was the Senate Majority Leader and Republican Dwight Eisenhower was President of the United States, LBJ – one of the most intense, passionate political animals in our history – never attacked President Eisenhower. It wasn’t because LBJ agreed with Eisenhower’s policies. It wasn’t because LBJ was scared. It was because, as LBJ explained in 1953 in a comment that has an unfortunately haunting connection to 9/11, “If you’re in an airplane, and you’re flying somewhere, you don’t run up to the cockpit and attack the pilot. Mr. Eisenhower is the only President we’ve got.”
The only President we’ve got.
We all want to head in the same direction. We all want to move forward. We all want to progress and be happy and healthy and taken care of. Why does partisan politics trump nationalism? As World War I and World War II approached and the world realized that we are clearly connected on a global level, the people who seemed the most out-of-touch – the people who were wrong – were the isolationists. In both of those great wars, the isolationists were proven wrong. Yet, in the span of our grandparents’ lives, we have regressed to the point where most Americans have become individual isolationists – not isolationism on a national level, but on a personal level. We’ve tried to disconnect from the people in our own country. Don’t you remember how powerful it felt after 9/11 to be united? Don’t you remember how we helped each other in so many different ways?
I guess I could try to be cynical. It’s my natural state anyway. I guess I could remember the look on President George W. Bush’s face when his Chief of Staff, Andrew Card, whispered news of the attacks in the President’s ear as he sat in a Florida classroom. I guess I could remember My Pet Goat, and the fact that Bush didn’t get up, sprint from the room, and change out of his Clark Kent clothes into the Superman suit. I guess I could remember Air Force One zig-zagging across the country, the only flight in the air besides military escorts and combat air patrols over our major cities. I guess I could remember the surveillance videos of the well-dressed hijackers walking through the airport terminals that morning before they turned our planes into weapons. I guess I could remember that the passengers of Flight 93 didn’t actually get through the cockpit door and force the plane to crash into Pennsylvania. I guess I could remember our government’s alphabet agencies – the FBI, CIA, NSA, and everyone else listening in on our world – being unable to work together and stop this attack from happening in the first place. I guess I could choose to remember those things, but that doesn’t make me feel better. It doesn’t make 9/11 anything but a success to those who tried to frighten and frustrate and intimidate us through terrorism.
This is what I choose to remember:
I remember that the passengers of Flight 93 tried. I remember that their plane didn’t make it to Washington, and even if they didn’t get into the cockpit and crash the plane into that meadow in Pennsylvania themselves, they certainly fought back and forced the hijackers to abort the mission that they had planned. That plane didn’t crash into the White House or the Capitol, and that’s not because the hijackers got lost.
I remember driving to the wedding rehearsal for two of my best friends on the Friday after the attacks, feeling bad that they were getting married in the shadow of 9/11. I remember being amazed at thousands of people in the streets of Sacramento – thousands of miles away from any of the attack sites – holding a candlelight vigil. I remember that I drove through the silence of these peaceful vigils, with flags and flames and tears all around me, and I thought, “We’re going to be okay.”
I remember George W. Bush – a President I never voted for. I remember his unsteady first comments to the press after the attacks. I remember how he found his footing quickly. I remember him returning to Washington, D.C. that night, against the wishes of his government and his Secret Service. I remember how this President – a President I didn’t agree with, a President I never cast a supportive ballot for or whose campaign I ever donated a cent to, a President whose beliefs were diametrically opposed to almost everything that I believe in – went to Ground Zero and met with the families of those who were dead or missing, and gave them all the time they needed with him.
I remember how that President visited the rescue workers at Ground Zero. I remember, more than anything else, how President Bush climbed on to some of the rubble of the fallen towers, grabbed a bullhorn and began to speak, but was interrupted by the workers yelling, “We can’t hear you!”
I remember that the President – the only President we had at the time – shouted to these exhausted, weary, heroic rescuers, “Well, I can hear you! And the people who knocked these buildings down are gonna hear from all of us soon!”. I remember that it was genuine, that there was nothing manufactured about that moment, and that, despite all of his faults and deficiencies, George W. Bush said exactly what those people – our people – needed to hear. As the workers chanted, “USA! USA! USA!”, I remember thinking – I didn’t vote for him and I won’t vote for him in 2004, but that’s my President and I am proud of him.
As we look back, we can’t help but think about everything else that has come out of 9/11 – the interminable war in Afghanistan, the ridiculous war in Iraq, the humiliating and annoying experience that flying in an airplane has become in this country – but I think about that stuff pretty much every day, and I feel like thinking differently this weekend.
So, I’m going to think about those flags and candles and President Bush on top of the rubble of the World Trade Center with a bullhorn. I’m going to think about being an American – just like I was in the weeks following 9/11 – rather than being a Democrat or Republican, Liberal or Conservative, Believer or Non-Believer, Straight or Gay, White or Black or Hispanic or Asian, or any other label that we place on ourselves to show that we’re different or more than just human.
I’m going to remember thinking, “That’s my President”, as he spoke to the rescue workers, just as I did a few weeks later when President Bush went to Yankee Stadium for Game 3 of the World Series, strapped on a bulky bulletproof vest under his FDNY sweatshirt, walked to the pitcher’s mound, and with millions of Americans watching on television, with thousands of rabid New Yorkers watching in the stands, and with Derek Jeter’s words (“Don’t bounce it or they’ll boo you.”) rattling around in his head, threw a perfect strike.
I’ll remember thinking, “That’s my President”, about a guy I never voted for and didn’t agree with, and I’ll hope that you do that when the guy you didn’t vote for and didn’t agree with says the right words, does the right things, and throws a strike – not because you’re a Democrat or a Republican, but because you’re an American and that’s the only President we’ve got.
What do you remember?
I really like this.
oh my god
this is the best thing i’ve ever read
Sniff
I need a shirt like this.
Iowa life, man.
It's back
what do you do at a sufjan Stevens concert??? sit on the floor and cry?? be gay??
I sure hope so.
someone cast a lure over the us department of education and it is amazing.
The pains of being dog at heart
A few photos from the last week. It's been really, really good.
Bottom list are Amazon's recommendations for me. Lol what.
14 Speeches
In 1966, the US was in Vietnam, the Beatles were “more popular than Jesus”, and 14 people were killed by a sniper at the University of Texas in Austin. The following year, President Lyndon B. Johnson spoke of how “senseless slaughter shocked the entire Nation. Yet, today, 13 months later, Congress has failed to enact a gun control law.” He referenced the 6,500 murders, the 10,000 suicides, the 2,600 accidental deaths that were enabled by lax gun control over those 13 months, saying that “a civilized nation cannot allow this armed terror to continue…the time has come for action.” Fifty years later, fifty people have been killed in Orlando and there is outrage, shock, and learned helplessness. It is learned helplessness to claim that American culture just doesn’t allow for gun control, to despair of ever passing the legislation needed to save some or all of the 89 lives lost to gun violence every day.
Since his election in 2008, President Obama has delivered at least 14 speeches, 14 attempts to bring some sense to a nation reeling from senseless tragedy to senseless tragedy. The first Ft. Hood Shooting, 2009; the Tucson shooting, 2011; the Aurora shooting, 2012: the Wisconsin Sikh temple shooting, 2012: the Sandy Hook shooting, 2012; the Washington Navy Yard shooting, 2013; the second Ft. Hood shooting, 2014; the Kansas Jewish community center shooting, 2014; the Charleston church shooting, 2015; the Chattanooga recruiting center shooting, 2015; the Umpqua community college shooting, 2015; the San Bernadino shooting, 2015; the Kalamazoo Uber shooting, 2016; the Orlando nightclub shooting, 2016. Did you make it to the end of that list? Did your eyes glaze a little, did you remember each and every one or did some of the names fail to ring a bell? Do you know how many have died in these 14 incidents alone? 174. That’s a large number, but there are larger ones. 869, for example, the number of people killed in the 126 mass shootings since the University of Texas shooting in 1966.
Thoughts and prayers are not enough. Mass shooting, public outrage, short memories- this rinse and repeat cycle must not go on. There is a discussion to be had over mental health- good, let’s have it, and while we’re at it we can discuss how to prevent the mass shootings that are NOT the result of a breakdown in mental healthcare. Mass shootings like those in Orlando or San Bernadino, which were the result of suspected terrorists legally obtaining the weapons used to perpetrate their heinous crimes. It is pure insanity that segments of the GOP would rather levy a ban on all Muslims coming into the US than prevent suspected terrorists (many of whom are not Muslim) from legally obtaining the weapons that have been used to kill hundreds of innocent Americans. The debate over mental health as the cause of mass shootings is misleading, intentionally designed to draw your attention away from the other factors that go into these shootings. Factors like the simple fact that these killers are being enabled by lax gun control laws. The majority of those who go on to commit a mass shooting obtained their guns through legal means, and to suggest that this should just be ignored because fixing mental healthcare will fix everything else is playing with fire, playing with lives, playing with the truth.
The truth is that if mental healthcare were a true concern of those who eloquently defend their second amendment rights via the exploitation of the mentally ill, crudely stereotyping a vulnerable population far more likely to be victimized than to victimize, there have been plenty of chances to push a pro-mental healthcare agenda. 14 times President Obama has been forced to address yet another mass shooting, and 14 times, these champions of mental healthcare have had the chance to show how their rhetoric can be translated into action, into results. This has not happened, and will not happen, because while there is an appalling and absurd willingness to sacrifice the lives of fellow Americans to keep America neck-deep in guns, there is no similar desire to actually address the consequences that such a selfish, lazy, short-sighted mindset produces. Perhaps these champions are fully aware that mental health is not the problem, and simply want to prolong the charade as long as possible before fabricating new excuses. Perhaps they are not champions at all, and are simply reading the teleprompter as they struggle to get through yet another press conference following yet another mass shooting. If this seems harsh, it is no harsher than the reality that we are living in, a reality in which people with mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, are either unable or unwilling to do anything about an epidemic that continues to claim 89 mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters a day.
Mental healthcare is the problem? If so, we have a second problem- those too self-righteous to actually dirty their hands with solving the first problem. Unsurprisingly, useless pontification has served only to continue lining the pockets of the NRA and the gun manufacturers it has allied itself with. However, isn’t it worth it to find out how we can actually curb this violence? There have been chances, many, too many, and mental healthcare has yet to show improvement as our mass shootings continue to increase in frequency and brutality. Let’s actually do something this time, and while we’re at it, let’s actually bother to find out if there is anything else we can be doing to save some of those 89 lives lost every day.
Does gun control scare you? Do you have nightmares about background checks, closed loopholes, suspected terrorists unable to buy hunks of metal used to kill fellow humans and fellow Americans? Because after Orlando, there will be 50 more families that have nightmares about lost children, absent parents, dead loved ones. No more second, fourth, or fourteenth chances, because we need to get this right now or see another mass shooting within months. Time is against us; we’re working with a timeline shortened every time our Republican Congress refuses to allow the CDC to research gun violence; truncated every time bought and paid for legislators fail to pass watered down gun control legislation that would expand online background checks or keep those on the terror watch list from buying guns. Please, for the love of God and country and humanity, do not let President Obama make a 15th speech.
This is my friend Daniel's new blog. It's great. Follow him.
It’s 11:14am on Sunday, May 15, and I am sitting on a train from Utrecht, Netherlands, to Brussels, Belgium with my friend Alex. We’re supposed to be on a bus, but thanks to poor time management on my part, we missed our bus. Whoops.
I’m over it now, and soon I’ll be able to laugh about it. But I was not happy an hour ago. This is my first time to miss a travel deadline as an adult and have to act quickly to solve the problem I caused. I’ve already paid $50 for a hostel tonight in Brussels, and I have a $50 plane to catch at 10am tomorrow out of Brussels to get to Rome. I have time and money invested here. Yet there I was, sitting in Utrecht Central Station at 9:50am, knowing we had just missed our 9:45am bus. Eurolines, the bus company I had booked through, didn’t have any more buses to Brussels that day. The only other bus option available would turn a 3 hour ride into an 8 hour one and arrive in Brussels at 10pm that night… doable, but far from ideal.
At this point it was 10:00, and Alex and I were both frantically searching for options online. I found a train for $40 each that left at 10:17. More expensive than the $15 bus tickets we just wasted, but certainly not the worst it could be. We rushed to the ticket counter, bought our train tickets (which were only $30 with a student discount – score) and were on our way.
We boarded our train, and luckily there was free wifi available. It’s called “WiFi en di trein,” which is just a normal phrase to the Dutch, but to Americans like Alex and I, it’s quite comical. Some phrases in Dutch read and sound like drunk English, just enough to produce a chuckle from any native English speaker. Thus, my blog name was born.
Sadly Wifi en di trein was short-lived. We spent 30 minutes on that train and then had to transfer at Rotterdam central. Our new train, which we are currently on, does not have wifi, and I am slightly salty. It’s a 2 hour train ride. But I can’t have my cake and eat it too, I guess. It’s 12:35, and I am going to take a half-hour nap now in preparation for a day of eating Belgian waffles and exploring. Ciao!
This was fun.
#AmericanGods is in production…. #believe
True.
Hype.
cyber goth [get]
The baritone’s lament. It doesn’t matter how low you start Take On Me. There’s simply no way.