If you look at the front page of the New York Times, today is just some Monday with the world in its typical upside down and downside up moments. Here are all of the familiar itches, the low thrum of dread, the minor victory, the self-righteous rant. But there is no mention of today’s significance. There used to be an obligatory image of the two lights shining into a dark sky, but not even that seems to matter any more. It is just another Monday, the way that day was just another Tuesday.
I remember a day, it seemed to be months later, it was probably only weeks, when I realized I couldn’t listen to NPR anymore. I needed to step back. It made me sad to realize that I needed to shut it out for a bit.
I guess that’s part of being human. We strive to thrive.
You know that I am a lover of music, but you know - I work in silence, most of the time. So much coming at us from every direction. It may feel quiet, and lonely but I can hear myself think.
Thank you Stella! Oh I really bit off a big one on this one, and as I was writing it I had this sense it had passed 700 words and was far from done. I don't feel any need to hit a certain word count, I just know that the payoff for ones that go past this need to fit the length, and it comes in at just over 1,000. (I had to check just now, had no idea - just a suspicion.) And you are dead right, there is a more relaxed pace, and an ending you don't see coming (I won't even pretend I did any of that intentionally). This just came out the way it did. It was edited for a good few hours though, and as usual, there was a telling detail I forgot and thankfully included late in the process - my wife's boots on the cobblestones in Florence, her arm in mine because it was romantic but also, very necessary - she is exhilarated by heels and then it turns into a circus.
I did love the heels on the cobblestone. Also glad to hear Carl is stirring, and can't wait to see what becomes of him. I, myself, am having a bear of a time getting back on the horse over here. Sigh. Your writing inspires me, which is helpful.
Honestly, you beta-reading the pages was a perfect shot in the arm, so hopefully that rebounds to you and you'll ride into the night with a pen in hand.
Today I awoke to a foggy morning in Boston. It was still dark, not quite 5:45am. All of sudden I was in my kitchen 22 years ago. Watching the news on my 5” black and white tv and all of a sudden an image of a burning tower was there. I needed to get to work in Princeton, NJ so I hopped in my car but the radio wasn’t working. I arrived at work to the word that the second tower was hit. It was intentional. We all stayed in the costume shop working on notes from the final dress Rehearsal the evening before. To leave was to go home to an empty house. To not work on the clothes would be admitting that the show might not “go on” the next evening.
Terry, that's quite a picture. I very much remember that sense that "we should still go to work" which is such a measure of innocence and optimism. The idea that you were all there together, in a space where you MADE things, and could share the confusion, that is really something. I was alone. I had a few check in calls from people that wanted to know I was ok. I played at Windows on the World (top of tower 2) every Thursday night in a rockabilly band. They gave me a building ID I was there so much.
And yes, to go home to an empty house. Better to sit at the sewing machines and just talk.
It was a collective mindfuck that we were lost in for such a long time. I did not go all the way downtown to see the actual site for years, even though it was a 20 minute walk away.
I also remember that we had to show proof to cross the police barriers (living below 14th street) and take some Chinese food home, some takeout pizza, etc. BUT a few weeks after the towers came down, I ventured up to the Met, I thought "let's look at some Degas - that will help me make sense of something". I passed people laughing in outdoor cafes having brunch, it was like nothing had happened, nothing at all. I never felt that difference between uptown and downtown as I did in that moment .
Great post today! I have been to two places where time seems to stand still and it is eerily quiet regardless of the cityscape surrounding them: the Memorial in NYC and the Vietnam War Memorial in DC. I read recently that our generation's past is the current generation's history. Your closing paragraph says it all.
Thank you David. I love the Memorial in New York. I also love the second one, way down at the very bottom tip of the city there is a little park where you can see the Statue of Liberty and get on the ferry. The giant bronze globe that was at WTC was brought there, broken, and dented and it stands there still. At least they found a good place for it. Children play nearby.
Ah, thank you! My wife and the little one are on the ocean and I am alone in the city working -so, it might just be me missing them that was the engine that made this one.
Yesterday I was waiting in the car for my kids. They take forever. I turned to am radio and listened to accounts of 911 fireman. By the the time the boys got in the car I was crying. They jumped in all full of sweaty teen energy. Dad, what happened?
I remember a day, it seemed to be months later, it was probably only weeks, when I realized I couldn’t listen to NPR anymore. I needed to step back. It made me sad to realize that I needed to shut it out for a bit.
I guess that’s part of being human. We strive to thrive.
Good decision.
You know that I am a lover of music, but you know - I work in silence, most of the time. So much coming at us from every direction. It may feel quiet, and lonely but I can hear myself think.
I really love the pace of this one.
Thank you Stella! Oh I really bit off a big one on this one, and as I was writing it I had this sense it had passed 700 words and was far from done. I don't feel any need to hit a certain word count, I just know that the payoff for ones that go past this need to fit the length, and it comes in at just over 1,000. (I had to check just now, had no idea - just a suspicion.) And you are dead right, there is a more relaxed pace, and an ending you don't see coming (I won't even pretend I did any of that intentionally). This just came out the way it did. It was edited for a good few hours though, and as usual, there was a telling detail I forgot and thankfully included late in the process - my wife's boots on the cobblestones in Florence, her arm in mine because it was romantic but also, very necessary - she is exhilarated by heels and then it turns into a circus.
I did love the heels on the cobblestone. Also glad to hear Carl is stirring, and can't wait to see what becomes of him. I, myself, am having a bear of a time getting back on the horse over here. Sigh. Your writing inspires me, which is helpful.
Honestly, you beta-reading the pages was a perfect shot in the arm, so hopefully that rebounds to you and you'll ride into the night with a pen in hand.
❤️thank you for this sharing.
Today I awoke to a foggy morning in Boston. It was still dark, not quite 5:45am. All of sudden I was in my kitchen 22 years ago. Watching the news on my 5” black and white tv and all of a sudden an image of a burning tower was there. I needed to get to work in Princeton, NJ so I hopped in my car but the radio wasn’t working. I arrived at work to the word that the second tower was hit. It was intentional. We all stayed in the costume shop working on notes from the final dress Rehearsal the evening before. To leave was to go home to an empty house. To not work on the clothes would be admitting that the show might not “go on” the next evening.
Terry, that's quite a picture. I very much remember that sense that "we should still go to work" which is such a measure of innocence and optimism. The idea that you were all there together, in a space where you MADE things, and could share the confusion, that is really something. I was alone. I had a few check in calls from people that wanted to know I was ok. I played at Windows on the World (top of tower 2) every Thursday night in a rockabilly band. They gave me a building ID I was there so much.
And yes, to go home to an empty house. Better to sit at the sewing machines and just talk.
💔💔💔
I can’t even imagine your experience.
We had a shopper in town that morning and we had no way of knowing where she was. She was ok thankfully. But for all of those who were not💔
My commute everyday for many years was under those towers. 😐
It was a collective mindfuck that we were lost in for such a long time. I did not go all the way downtown to see the actual site for years, even though it was a 20 minute walk away.
I also remember that we had to show proof to cross the police barriers (living below 14th street) and take some Chinese food home, some takeout pizza, etc. BUT a few weeks after the towers came down, I ventured up to the Met, I thought "let's look at some Degas - that will help me make sense of something". I passed people laughing in outdoor cafes having brunch, it was like nothing had happened, nothing at all. I never felt that difference between uptown and downtown as I did in that moment .
https://youtu.be/L2YF3ZsOcl8?si=r_1niqhDyYp5jJIf
For a second I thought this was "those were the days" the one they sang at the start of All in the Family!
Great post today! I have been to two places where time seems to stand still and it is eerily quiet regardless of the cityscape surrounding them: the Memorial in NYC and the Vietnam War Memorial in DC. I read recently that our generation's past is the current generation's history. Your closing paragraph says it all.
Thank you David. I love the Memorial in New York. I also love the second one, way down at the very bottom tip of the city there is a little park where you can see the Statue of Liberty and get on the ferry. The giant bronze globe that was at WTC was brought there, broken, and dented and it stands there still. At least they found a good place for it. Children play nearby.
Wow. Beautiful, Marco.
Ah, thank you! My wife and the little one are on the ocean and I am alone in the city working -so, it might just be me missing them that was the engine that made this one.
Yesterday I was waiting in the car for my kids. They take forever. I turned to am radio and listened to accounts of 911 fireman. By the the time the boys got in the car I was crying. They jumped in all full of sweaty teen energy. Dad, what happened?
Maybe it is a blessing they don't know why - just that they know their father is alive, living and breathing - a human being.