I'm sure everyone on Earth is sick to death of hearing 9/11 stories, but I figure if I'm ever gonna talk about it then today is the day to do so.
I was 19 in 2001 and was the epitome of the phrase, "Young, Dumb and Full of Cum." Since I was fresh out of High School, I now had the power to completely ruin my life and was trying to figure out if I was stupid enough to move in with a girl I met on the internet who lived in Florida. Turns out I was stupid enough, but that's another long, painful and idiotic story I'd rather not discuss....ever. Point is I was in Florida, which means I had flown a few days before the attacks and would have to fly again a few days after. It also meant that I was on the east coast during the attacks, where everyone was shitting their pants in unison for some reason. Like George Carlin said, proximity to horrible events somehow changes how it affects your view as to how much you should give a shit.
In 2001 I was convinced that life had big things to offer me and that I was going to strike it rich as a famous musician. Did I mention I was dumb? Anyways, I spent morning, noon and night honing my skills. I'd write music every chance I could get and on that morning I happened to be all alone in an empty house. Rather than masturbate like any sensible 19 year old, I pulled out my "poetry" book and started jotting down verses for a song I couldn't quite figure out how to finish. I know what your wondering, "had he already masturbated or what, 'cause no one is that.....faggy....right?" No I hadn't!
I'd re-written this song like four times and never felt like it was any good, so I decided to try again that morning. My strategy at the time was to write the most simplistic lyrics I could think of about, what else, the girl I was with and the distance I felt between us when I was 3,000 miles away from her in Washington. Did I mention full of cum? For some reason I really loved the lyrics this time around. They were a little stupid, simple, and gay but so was I at the time, but oddly enough I was really happy and excited with how it turned out. Just as I was reaching for my guitar to belt this masterpiece, the door of the apartment burst open. My girlfriend and her Dad came running in with a frantic and excited spring to their steps. Well hers was more of a gimp. Did I mention she had down syndrome? Joking! But you wouldn't put it past me would you?
The girl, we'll call her "Muse" rather than "Sperm Dumpster" or something less poetic, asked if I had been watching TV. Did I mention I wasn't watching TV either? No spanking. No TV. Poetry book. So deep and brooding! I said no and again reached for my guitar to play my new opus for her, but before I could she flipped on the TV just minutes before Flight 77 hit the Pentagon. Bitch!
We sat there all day watching the events every channel on TV channel still exploits on an hourly basis unfold. I remember thinking the whole day that things would never be the same in this country. Not because we'd been attacked but because we are a nation of huge, unbelievably narcissistic, cry baby pussies and everyone in this country feels like they were somehow "wounded" by these attacks.
Horrible shit happens everyday in just about every country in the world, but when it happens to Americans it's epic on a Biblical scale. Picture you're at a bar and someone says, "My mom, wife, daughter, grand parents, and dog were hacked to death by a serial rapist in a clown costume." Then someone next to them says, "My fifth cousin was killed in the World Trade Center on 9/11." Which one gets the TV deal? I knew on that day that I'd never hear the end of this and that one day I'd write about my experience on 9/11 because I am a huge, cry baby pussy as well.
I can say with all honesty that it has affected me in the following ways: I felt horribly sad for the people who died, the families they left behind and the people charged with trying to sort through the rubble for about as long as I felt horrible for the people fucked over by Hurricane Katrina or the people who died in the Tsunami in Japan last year. About a month or so. That's about how long I feel you should grieve for strangers before you get on with your life. It made air travel a pain in the ass, dumped our economy down the shitter and forced me to listen to other people recall how horrible their lives have been since 9/11. Even people who weren't there and didn't know anyone involved in any way with the attacks, the subsequent war(s) that followed, or with the clean up. They were just "traumatized." This country hasn't had anything truly bad on a global scale happen since World War 2 and for some reason we thought that after dropping two horrible bombs that will probably kill our children's, children's, children of cancer, that we were still the biggest bad asses in the world. It scared the shit out of this country and should have been the thing that knocked us on our pompous asses to make us realize that maybe we should start helping others instead of hoarding all the cash in the world. Seriously, Derek Jeter makes more for playing one game of catch than the entire GDP of half the countries on the planet. Is it really so hard to believe a few people are pissed about that fact?
I knew the day it happened that the country was going to have to face a decision between love and fear. As a nation we chose fear and we're still too "traumatized" to move on.
I flew home from Florida out of the New Orleans airport on September 17th, just after the airports reopened. It was a ghost town with scattered armed guards around every corner and heightened security, which by the way was about a thousand time more relaxed than it is now. The flight had about 15 people on it. I had all three seats. They had plenty of pillows. The flight attendants were super nice. It was honestly the best flight I've ever had, and I've flown hundreds of times. I'd like to believe that flight was empty because people weren't able to book flights during the grounding of the airlines but I think the truth is no one wanted to be "next." Like days after the biggest blunder in American history we'd just let it happen again. Then again, George W. Bush was the president. ZING!
In the ten years since 9/11 happened I've thought about it a lot. Mostly because it is shoved down my throat on television everyday. I love this country but I'm afraid that the terrorists got exactly what they wanted. We were a soft/full of shit nation who felt entitled to everything before 9/11, but since we've become a scared/full of shit nation that thinks the world owes us everything. The fear we felt on that day is natural and founded. If you weren't scared there's either something wrong with you or you were stoned and thought you were watching Independence Day. The problem is that for some reason that fear is being perpetuated hourly in this country and no one seems to want to get over it. It was tragic. It wasn't the Holocaust. It didn't actually happen to you. Move on. We will never be able to regain the former "glory" this country had before 9/11, but perhaps that's a good thing. Maybe it's time we let someone else have a chance at the "top." Or we could do the right thing and try to live as equals, but that would be totally against the American way!
On the other hand, who the hell am I and what do I know? I'm just telling you my story the way everyone else has felt inclined to do for me. By the way I finished the song and even made a music video for it (see below). It always reminds me of 9/11, my 'Muse' and of being "Young, Dumb and Full of Cum." Catchy tune!
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