September 11th and Two and A Half Men....

I don't like 9-11 posts. I made my own, last year, but that was because this blog was new and I was trying really hard to be like everyone else in the blogosphere.

Because, what is there left to say? We've all talked about where we were, what we were doing, how we reacted, what our kids said, yada yada yada.

We've talked through our feelings, discussed to death what must have gone through the minds of all involved...what it must have felt like, leaning out of one of the windows on the doomed buildings, feeling the heat of the inferno behind you, the howling of the wind in front of you, and having to choose between burning to death or jumping to it.

Everyone has seen the pictures, read the "Where are They Now" pieces...wept while seeing the memorials unveiled and hearing the family members of the victims proclaim their love for the lost ones.

But here I am again, writing about it. I watched some of the shows today, watched them with my guard up high. I made the younger boys watch a special on PBS, at one point Henry turned to me and said, "Please, can we change this? It's so sad." I told them that it's our duty to watch this stuff, year after year. It's our responsibility to see the video clips over and over, watch that second plane float into the side of the South Tower.

We need to relive those moments. We need to show our children those moments....because we owe that to those people who stood at the broken windows that morning. We owe it to those firefighters who trudged through ash and debris and walked into the gaping maws of death. We owe it to the families, the business travelers, the flight attendants and pilots of the planes that were hijacked.

It's our duty, as a nation, as Americans...as human beings. We can't let this become a sepia-toned flashback. We need to remember the sheer horror of that day, the way it felt when we saw those people jumping from the 100th floor of the World Trade Center, the way it felt when we saw newscasters weep and saw big burly firemen crying.

Because it can't happen again.

Will it happen again? I don't know. In my heart of hearts, I suspect that there will be more. I think of the thousands of military people who have perished since that day, lost their lives in this insane war that we waged out of revenge, to retaliate. We haven't seen the last, nor the worst, of things. I feel that in my heart of hearts, and yet I carry on, as we all do. Help my eldest child make college plans, practice spelling tests with my youngest.

Life goes on.

And on a completely unrelated note, I am also pretty sure that the end of days are near for a whole 'nother reason.

I have fallen in love with "Two And A Half Men".

How did this happen? Blame Comcast. Blame Comcast and their damn On Demand crap. Blame me, and my boredom for deciding to give this infernal show a chance on an impossibly boring Friday night.

I laughed my ass off. I fell back in love with Jon Cryer/Duckie (hello? Sexually ambiguous best friend from Pretty in Pink? You'll love us but never expect us to sleep with you!?!). I was fascinated by the video documentation of Charlie Sheen's decline (watched a very early episode and then watched a very late one...it was like watching Biggest Loser, episodes One and Ten). I decided that Berta was my new favorite television character (she had me at her description of Alan's lovemaking: "Three pumps and an apology". God help me, that could be the title of my book.).

This television show is insanely popular, and I could never understand why. When Charlie Sheen went apeshit, I couldn't figure out why it was such a big deal. "Cancel the stupid show" I thought to myself.

And then I bit the apple.

Now I find myself wondering what will happen. Will Ashton fill the slimy, creepy shoes that Charlie has left behind? Will the show make it? How can I get my hands on the clothes that Alan and Charlie's mom wears...you know, the breathtaking St. John wardrobe (eBay friends, you totally know what I'm talkin' about, right??)?.

The boy on that show is also pretty awesome. Lucky kid...I think I read somewhere that both parents were arrested for some stupid drinking/drug stuff back in the day, and decided to head out West and get their kid into show biz. If I'm not mistaken, he's now the highest paid kid in television...maybe we could learn a thing or two from his humble, white trash beginnings?

So, all of that said, I'll bid all of you adieu with these thoughts:

Hug your family, tell them that you love them, and live life with thoughtfulness and purpose. It's the best thing you can do to honor those who didn't get the chance.

And if you haven't already, watch a couple episodes of Two And A Half Men. It's a really good diversion from all of that thoughtful purposeful living.

Peace.