Monday Morning Rant

I try to make my posts light, entertaining. But not today.

First, my heart goes out to the people affected by the terrorists’ acts in the UK. As I write this, “breaking news” just announced multiple fatalities in Orlando. How can these vicious horrors happen? When will we feel safe again?

I shouldn’t watch the news. It is so upsetting. Do I play the ostrich and bury my head in the sand? At times, yes. I felt the same way in the early 1970s when the Viet Nam war and Nixon’s Watergate dominated the news.

I’d rather read or watch movies. Or work on my new story. But how can I concentrate with the news proclaiming one horrific “breaking news” after another? That sounds selfish. And it probably is. How many times can we get upset over terrorists (foreign and domestic) before we become inured to the horrifying news? Until we turn off the news so we don’t hear it?

Yet, I wonder how many people like me feel like we can do nothing to change things. Our representatives and senators who are supposed to be servants of the people don’t listen to us. They’re too busy planning the next election or obeying lobbyists instead of their constituents. They don’t work a full year, they give themselves raises (yet deny raises to social security), they give themselves lifetime pensions and phenomenal healthcare. They need to give us their healthcare programs or live on what they devise for us.

In what world, do you get a pension and free healthcare after you’ve been fired? Our leadership dares to call social security and medicare entitlements. They are the ones with the entitlements.

Okay, that’s my tirade for the day. I really do need to get back to my work-in-progress.

On a lighter note: the Arizona trips are at an end. Our son and his family are moving here at the end of this month. All my children and grandchildren will be living in the same town as we do for the first time since the mid-1990s. Can’t wait for them to get here.

September 11th

This past weekend, television helped us remember 9-11, not that the day fifteen years ago isn’t imprinted on our memories. As with most tragedies, we know exactly where we were when we heard the news. I was in my doctor’s office waiting for the mammogram technician. I’d brought a book (as usual). While I was reading, I became aware that a news report was coming through the intercom. What I was hearing didn’t make sense. The tech came in, and we expressed the same confusion. Then the report said another plane had hit the second tower.

Stunned, I couldn’t wait to get home and watch television. A message beeped on our answering machine. Hubs had called saying turn on the TV. I already had. Confusion, fear, horror. I tried to make sense of what had happened. I couldn’t.

I remember being so upset (what a wimpy word) for days that I couldn’t write, couldn’t even read messages from online groups. I couldn’t understand why this event affected me so. I lived in the Midwest, nowhere near Manhattan. But for days I felt like I was in a fog. I watched news shows to learn more. I needed an explanation. A reason for this horrific act.

When I finally went back online, I realized I wasn’t alone. Others felt the same way. There was comfort in that knowledge.

I’d been to New York City three times before 9-11. I went back in 2003 (for a conference) and noticed the difference. The police were everywhere, yet not in a threatening manner. You could tell they were alert despite their casual stances. People were friendlier, including restaurant servers, their storied rudeness replaced by smiles and helpfulness.

For years, I couldn’t watch the remembrances. Too soon. Too raw. I still haven’t watched the movie World Trade Center. Again, too soon.  Now I watch the programs on the anniversaries. I don’t want to forget. I imagine my parents felt the same way about December 7^th. My grandchildren were born after 9-11. We should make sure they, their generation, and generations to come never forget we were attacked on our home soil. Not by a nation or a religion, but by narrow-minded extremists, fanatical suicide bombers more deadly than those that attacked Pearl Harbor.

Many things changed afterward. Heightened security, especially at airports. Fear paralyzed us, but not for long. Quickly, we learned that giving into anxiety played into the hands of the terrorists. They would win again. As a nation, we proved our resilience. We went back to work, went on vacations, carried on our daily routines. We might (and should) be more alert, but we weren’t cowed by the attack.

We are survivors.

credit: Alamy stock photo