Tough September

The anniversary of the terrorist attacks will always be a somber one for me. It's hard to put into words what I felt yesterday. As luck would have it, I ended up going east on the BQE last evening, right around dusk, the sky was a dark indigo, and all the lights were up in downtown Manhattan. The traffic was moving at a nice, brisk pace, and I was lucky to catch some excellent metal songs on WSOU (frustratingly, the DJs never identified them). Cruising down the highway, I was afforded a gorgeous view of financial district, complete with the brilliant twin beams bursting into the sky.

I always get a lump in my throat when I see the NYC skyline these last five years. Almost like I'm being reminded of a lost relative. Strange, because I never visited the World Trade Center and I only occasionally visited Manhattan in general. But seeing the gaping void, the overt absence, left in that view of New York City never fails to elicit an almost visceral reaction in me.

Left to my thoughts on September 11th, I found myself pondering the state of the world today, and somewhat embittered by how our society-at-large has lost sight of the bigger picture. That the concepts of "right" and "wrong" have grown so murky. This is obviously a rant brewing, but I'll spare you all my observations of the "good," the "bad," and the "ugly" of 9/11. But I'll finish with this anecdote - While I was driving down to Princeton for an interview, I was listening to a talk show on 92.3. They were taking calls from listeners who wanted to share their thoughts on the anniversary of the attacks. The most heartening contribution, amazingly, was a guy who's immigrated and lived in the US for less than two years since being born and raised in Iran. To paraphrase, he said, "[He] loved America, and [he] would die for this country." An Iranian-American said that?! Then there's hope for us all!

When I saw his picture on the front page of the newspaper, the last thing I thought was that it was the death notice of the Crocodile Hunter, Steve Irwin. And I tell you truthfully, tears welled up when I saw the headline. He may have been goofy, and any bargain-basement comedian proved he was highly mock-able, but what Steve Irwin radiated more than anything else, to me, was kindness. He was passionate for his work, for the animals in his care, for demonstrating the beauty of nature. Steve's love was shared with his wife, Terri, and his little daughter, Bindi. And despite fame, celebrity, and financial success, he never lost that affability, that honest friendliness. I think it is because of this quality of character that he remained a popular and beloved international entertainer. To his credit (and probably his embarrassment), the Australian government offered a state funeral for him. Pomp and circumstance were never his style, and his family naturally said, "Thanks, but no thanks." A common bloke with an uncommon talent for sharing the beauty of nature with millions of fans around the world, it is with a heavy heart to say goodbye to Steve Irwin, Crocodile Hunter.

In the spirit of Steve Irwin's fun-loving nature, enjoy some "Steve Irwin Facts."

"And Now for Something Completely Different..."

And in the "WTF" category, we hear that Anna Nicole Smith's son, Daniel, died suddenly only days after his Mom gave birth to a new baby girl. Only 20, experts are still trying to figure out what the cause was. From the minute I saw this poor kid on the Anna Nicole Show, I've felt nothing but pity for him. And frankly, punching-out at 20 is just not fair. While my opinions of Anna are somewhat less positive, I'll save my criticism and just extend my sympathies. Sheesh... poor guy.

And while we ponder the fickle capriciousness of life, check out Gay Robot.

RED SUX, Part I

The differences between Red Sox players and Yankee players are so astounding, I could devote an entire article to it. But I'd rather just take little pot-shots, instead. Today, we'll talk about "class." As in, the Red Sox organization has none. Anytime I hear a Boston player quoted, it's always some mealy-mouthed criticism of the Yankees, to one degree or another. Whether it was Varitek whining, or Schilling shooting his mouth off, the song remains the same - childish complaining. Okay guys, I guess it was cool to be a grown-up talking trash at the Pinstriped Goliath, back when your entire organization was under a magical spell of failure for nearly a century. But now, after you finally got your pathetic monkey off your back, and you realized you guys just sucked for 86 years, it's time to behave like sportsmen. The only charming guy in your crew is Johnny Damon and... oh, right, he's on the Yankees, now. And you got David Wells - the ass. You know what they say about birds of a feather... Come to think of it, take Gary Sheffield, too - he's only good for griping, so he'll fit in great.

But what brought on this surge of Boston Bashing? Why kick them while they're down? After all, they've got two chances to make the playoffs - "slim and none." Two articles. First, it's that pig, David Ortiz, (who has now lost all sympathy from me for his present heart condition) started mouthing off about how he "deserves to get the MVP award this year," and that Jeter doesn't. Frankly bub, I don't care if you have a couple of superior stats to The Captain, at least he plays the entire game. Unlike you, who merely has to waddle over to the plate and swing, Derek actually, you know, fields. And is having a great offensive year as well. Oh, and his team is going to win the division. Kinda puts your selfish little merits in perspective, huh? How "valuable" is a player on a team that's not playing in the post-season? No Mucho. So put that in your filthy helmet and smoke it, you bum. And keep your mouth shut about real athletes. The second article dealt with Willie Randolph and Joe Girardi, two former Yankees who are now very successful managing the Mets and Marlins, respectively. The article was questioning who should be cited for his managing skills - Willie or Joe. And, with that ever-present class and humility, each manager downplays their accomplishments and congratulates the other. No back-biting, no cheap-shots. Just class.

Best Group Shot - Ever

Best shot of, frankly, the best day of my life. Some of you may have been wondering when I was going to give my review on the wedding, honeymoon cruise, married life, etc. And truly truly I say unto you - "I'll get to it". So many ideas and thoughts have been popping into my head these days (as you can imagine, I have plenty of free time), and when I finally venture over to a working computer, I'm usually writing about what I'm feeling at the time... hence, my one-man pity party that you got to read in my last article. Don't worry, I'm over it. Things are looking up and hopefully I'll be gainfully employed in a new and exciting career - Drug Dealing! It's the wave of the future, I tell you!

This picture makes me all sorts of happy.

Worlds Collide - Metallica on The Simpsons - "We Don't Take Rides from Strangers."

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