Shut Up And Listen 182

3 Years On

Well, September 11 this year just happens to fall on a Saturday, so I'd be remiss if I didn't talk about it a little. This is a weird day. Today is my parents' twenty-second wedding anniversary. It's also my friend's twenty-third birthday. And of course, it's also the third anniversary of the infamous 9/11 terrorist attacks. Everyone will be talking about it, remembering, being all serious and sad and shit. Me, I've been thinking about what I want to say for the past few days. I could be serious and shit like everyone else, but that's not my style. There was an idea to tell 3 simple truths of the "post-9/11 world" (I fucking hate that term, by the way), but that seemed a little wrong too. Like going too far in the other direction. Don't want to be too respectful, but don't want to be blatantly disrespectful either. I do have 3 simple truths in mind though, and maybe you could figure them out on your own. No, instead, I will tell you about where I was three years ago today. The edited truth--I would say unedited, but there's no way I could give you that three years later. I'll try to be as honest as possible.

I was in my OAC (grade 13) writer's craft class that morning. It was second period and we had the TV on. We were told by someone some planes had hit the World Trade Centre or something in New York. So we had it on CNN and didn't really care. A plane hit a building . . . who gives a fuck? They had some person inside on the phone and man, this guy was freaking out. Couldn't get a straight answer out of him and we laughed. It was funny. To us, at least. The teacher turned off the TV, because we had class and work to do. Class went on as usual. Soon, it was over and we went to lunch or class, depending on the person.

I met some people in the cafeteria and we talked about it. Not taking it too seriously, as it was America, and who gives a fuck? Some pilot can't fly a fucking plane right. Ho hum, so sad, let's eat. Then another friend showed up and was saying how they think it was done on purpose and how there were two planes and how the buildings had fallen or were close to falling (can't remember exactly which). Strange how that knowledge stopped the joking, slightly. Accident equals funny, purposeful attack equals serious. Of course, that didn't stop the jokes for good, as we were a bunch of young guys, around eighteen and that's how we responded to everything: we made jokes. We wanted more info though, so we all piled into Adam's car and went back to my house. The cable was out there. The internet was barely working too. Most of the sites for news were so swamped that they had basic text up giving basic information. We shrugged as we didn't actually care that much. More just an excuse to leave school and go somewhere else for a while. We hung out and went back to school eventually.

We showed up for law early and that's where we were confronted by the grim truth: this was some big shit and it was most definitely not funny. It was big. Our teacher muted the TV and gave a speech about how big this was. About how defining it was. It was one of those "history in the making" moments and we better fucking pay attention. Now, we were never not paying attention, we just didn't take that shit seriously. The rest of the day, everyone was talking about it.

At home that night, the cable was back on, but there was nothing good on. Just news. Every single fucking station, the same news. Images of New York and talk of terrorists and the beginning of the mentions of Osama bin Laden. I can't remember if we had the anniversary dinner for my parents or not that night. I want to say we did, but I can't remember. It was a miserable night. Nothing to do but watch people go on and on and on about death and destruction. It was difficult to see the big picture as I was just a kid in London, Ontario and that was just TV. The whole idea was absurd to me: guys hijacking planes and flying them into buildings? What the fuck? In the following days, I watched, I paid attention, and I learned better.

That's my story. Nothing inspiring or nice about it. Just a guy and his buddies cracking jokes about something they didn't understand really and feeling like idiots once they did. Three years later and I'm left wondering how much I've changed. Not nearly enough, I'm afraid to say.

Later.