Tuesday, September 13, 2011


I was eating dinner with my friend Rusty the other night when he said, "I know it's a cliche' today and all, but DO you remember where you where when you heard the World Trade Center was hit?" I do, and it was the day my photo studio officially opened for business. Written right on all my tax info and all. I had a full eight hours of portraits booked, and the first one had just arrived. The radio was set to some classical station, I'd just placed two toddler sisters, in their matching vintage dresses, on a miniature park bench, and their mother was waving and hopping and whistling behind me. A symphony cut out to an announcement that was already half over, but we got the drift. A plane had just hit the first tower, something was happening to the Pentagon, then another plane...mass confusion, bedlam... The girl's mother just walked out my door and got in her car, either to listen to her own radio, use her phone, or just be alone a moment, I'm not sure. I was stuck inside with two kids who were happily hitting each other with a sock monkey and giggling, spilling a bottle of bubbles kept on hand for catching their attention. I have no idea what I was feeling. Isn't that crazy? No idea. The rest of the day's customers were no-shows. I remember my parents saying something along the lines of "We should all go hole up at camp until the world ends". And arguing about whether or not to pick up Myra from college.

But you know what? The birds were still singing. Those small sisters were still blowing bubbles and laughing. And all around us the world was falling. ENDING. Some people go around thinking that every day of their lives. Not everyone though. Is it wrong to blow bubbles and sing? I don't think so. See, I decided perhaps the birds and kids have the right idea. Of course, I feel horrified, absolutely horrified, about what happened. The pictures of people jumping from windows, and falling to a more preferable death than what awaited inside, make me sick. I can hardly type those words, in fact. But still...

Since I'm on an anti-political kick at the moment...I won't say what I think about the whole deal. I know that sounds shitty, but I'm tired of being angry or scared or helpless/hopeless feeling. Politics may be the single biggest factor in some people's depression issues. I'm needing to focus on up-close things right now. I'm needing to focus on the good, amazing, beautiful things in every single day. My children, my home, my friends and family, the sunset, jokes, happiness. Politics don't exactly lend themselves to positive thinking. So, I'm ignoring most of it. I know that ignorance is NOT bliss, I've said that before, but give me a break Tax Cuts, Budget Deficit and Oil Crisis. I'm just going to try to be a decent human being for a bit, keep on keeping on, and pretend I've never heard of you. My recycling will still get sorted, my groceries still organic, I will still disapprove of war, but for God's sake, turn on the angry political ranting, the conspiracy theories, the debate about which president sucked more...and I'll politely tune you out. It's not because I don't care, or don't have an opinion, it's because I need to. No offense to those of you that sink your energy into making changes and do so much, I'm proud of you. I understand your drive and anger perfectly. It's just my time to step back...if I dwell any longer, well, it won't be pretty.

That being said, I'm wondering how on earth I'm going to pay for my recent trip to the ER with a simple sprained ankle, and where the money for this winter's heat is coming from. I could get super furious at a system that's made to eliminate the lower class, but life is hard enough without being ticked off at the Whys and Whats of the situation. Not to mention short. Life is dang SHORT. (That tiny girl, up above? She's a teenager now, nearly six feet tall. All grown up. Only yesterday she was smacking her hysterical, chuckling baby sister with a sock monkey while the Twin Towers collapsed.) So, that's the scoop. I'm sorry if I sound like a bimbo, or irreverent about sensitive subjects, but it's the only way my head can rest. If I get back on the political bandwagon, you'll be the first to hear it. For now, please pass the bubbles.

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