2001-09-16 - 11:43 p.m.
Best line I heard last night at the party I went to: "One of these days I�d really like to have a new decade that doesn�t start off with all of us pissed off at some dude in a turban."
I pointed out that Saddam Hussein doesn�t wear a turban, but then we all agreed that his 1970s porn-star mustache comes close enough.
I think my sense of humor is coming back.
Last night was exactly what the doctor ordered. Obviously we couldn�t completely avoid talking about It--the two-ton elephant in the middle of the room holding a box-cutter--but we also talked about punk bands and movies and cars and our favorite sex toys. And drank beer--lots of it--and ate homemade sushi. Jeff�s stepfather lived in Japan for many years and Stacie is half-Japanese, so they both know how to roll their own sushi. I can�t possibly stay mad at the world when I have a plate of fresher-than-fresh tuna roll in front of me.
We also agreed that what the passengers apparently did on Flight 93 (the one that went down in Pennsylvania) was the most heroic goddamn thing we�ve ever heard about. This wasn�t a roomful of jingoistic nuts, mind you--by and large these were old punks who�d managed to reach their 30s, get jobs, buy homes and have kids without losing their personalities. Still--to use an old Vulcan saying--there are no anarchists in foxholes.
Today I went down to the harbor to read. I�m finally getting around to one of the books I bought in Denver last month: How Will They Know If I�m Dead? by Robert Horn. The author was one of my favorite political-science professors in college--he ran the Model United Nations program that I took part in for two years--but the book is about his battle with Lou Gehrig�s disease, which he was diagnosed with in 1989. He wrote the book in 1995, and the last time I saw him, shortly before I moved to San Diego, the disease was very far advanced. Knowing what I know about ALS, I assume he�s passed away by now, though I�m not certain. Which saddens me.
In a preface, the pastor of Bob�s church wrote that, in dealing with the illness, Bob "chose intentionally not to know more than he needed to about fearful things. This was not denial but a deliberate attempt to avoid the lure of succumbing to predictions. ... By choosing what he could handle, Bob managed to carry this awful burden a little load at a time, thus leaving energy to keep on with his teaching, his coaching, his friendships, and his joy."
That�s been hard for a lot of us to do this past week. But as I read that I could feel tons of anger and fear just drain out of me. And when I looked up and across the harbor--at the skyline, the boats on the water, and the Coronado Bridge off in the distance--for the first time since Tuesday the scene didn�t look like it had a big bullseye on it.
Go eat lots of sushi this week. Miguelito commands it.
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