11 November << 2001 >> 14 November
Monday I woke up feeling somewhat ill. The first thing on the radio, in my grogginess, was a press conference about another death toll. September 11? No, November 12. For some brief moment I was wondering did something happen to the CTA in Chicago and was this mayor giving the press conference Richard J. Daley talking about the destruction of that beloved monument, the Harold Washington Library? But no, it was Rudy, a plane had just sort of randomly crashed in Queens. That's just what New York City needs. I feel terrible.
I wandered over to the flower shop, where Carmen's Professional Services is apparently also holed up, but they're moving next week. A disoriented, elder Chinese man wanted to know where is this place they're moving to, can I walk him over there? I got time ... walked him over around the corner where Carmen's will be moving in to the Cosmo candle store, which was in itself in the process of moving over to Castro. Anyway, the guy was grateful, and I'm still not sure was he disoriented by the whole being in a completely foreign country thing, or was it more the sort of absent-minded trouble that tends to plague many of our oldest? Probably some of both.
I bought a small selection of white flowers, and walked over to the Mountain View City Hall, next to which there is a tree with a plaque to honor Mountain View residents who have died in this century's wars. I lay the flowers down upon the plaque, stood alone in a moment of silence, about-faced, marching away, feeling a lot better all of a sudden even though a huge flag was draped off the Performing Arts Center, being soiled by the rain.
It is important to remember and honor those who have paid the highest sacrifice to defend this country. It is more important to me, for some reason. I guess if you don't believe in God, you have to believe in something. I believe in America, and statesmen and veterans are the patriarchy that cause my heart to twitter.
I had been thinking, in my occasional dark thoughts, what would I do if some fuckwad managed to detonate a nuclear device and remove my home town of Chicago from the face of the Earth. My family. Mom, Jessica, Uncle John, and Grandma, all gone! Well, there'd be nobody left who could ever discourage me from enlisting, content to join them in death if that is what fate had in store. Of course, we aren't comitted to ground forces, and I hope it doesn't come to that, but it made me appreciate the feelings that certain young men must have when they decide the value of their own life has been compromised by the loss of those important to them. They are open-minded to the idea that in death they can strike a blow for what is right. They take out some more innocents, and someone else wants to be a martyr. This is where modern warfare gets us. And we thought the trenches of World War I were Hell.
If I feel reverent toward a patriarchy of patriots, then I feel I owe my life to the matriarchy back home.
Any way, another day at work. Almost passed the test, which is a lot closer than my fellow colleague-in-training did. I used my own, ah ... "study techniques" to get that far, and I had the advantage in that I had been better prepared for all the irrelevant trivia and trick questions the test features. I have to call Jefe tomorrow and figure out do I pass muster now, do I need to re-take the test, or what. But first I have another phone interview tomorrow morning.
11 November
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2001
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14 November
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dannyman.toldme