Sunday, August 26, 2012

A Face of Quiet Desperation

Every year is getting shorter
Never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught
Or half a page of scribbled lines....

We have arrived, as it was inevitable that we would, at August's final Sunday.  There are those who subscribe to the belief that summer is over for all intents and purposes once the last remaining firework has been launched from the barge in the East River.  There is at least one who opines that it is over as a practical matter once the Summer Solstice has been reached.  Me?  I suppose that my innate dislike for the start of the school year, coupled with the joy I derived from countless childhood summer days doing absolutely nothing, has earned me permanent enrollment in the school of thought that September's entrance upon the calendar signals summer's annual death knell.  As we have now reached the point where all that stands between September and us is one remaining five-piece combo of days, that sound that is now audible in the distance - and grows more so daily - is that of the fat lady clearing her throat.

September brings with it not just the beginning of a new school year but also this year - as it has for the past decade - a stark reminder of a terrible day.  We are slightly more than two weeks away from the 11th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks.  It is a date that is firmly etched in my mind's eye.  I still find myself glancing skyward each and every time I hear a jet fly overhead.  Considering I was inside the Bergen County Court House in Hackensack when the two planes were flown into the Twin Towers - and of course heard no noise from any jets whatsoever - there is no rational explnation for why I do what I do.

I mention that here in the context of a "programming note" for those of you who - presumably as a condition of parole or at the very least a probationary sentence - spend a small piece of your day here every day.  Starting Wednesday for every day thereafter through the 11th of September I shall use this space as I used it at or about this time last year, which is to honor the life and the memory of some of those who were murdered on that terrible day eleven years ago.  It is an exercise that inures probably to the benefit of absolutely no one but me.  In the event that it is not something you want to read, I wanted to give you the information you need to opt out now.  I value your time as I do my own....

....last one out please pull the screen door closed and lock it.   Season's end after all.


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