I don't know what the best way to commemorate this day is, other than to retell the way it affected our lives, which I did here. I was blessed to stay here in the best place on earth on that day. Some were not. I honor them today.
I was traveling for a living then. I woke up in California, watched in horror the news from NYC on the TV. It took me two weeks to get home, but that hardly mattered, I was numb inside. I think we all were.
Rough day. Didn't realize how close we were to Manhattan until the power went out. I don't think I'll ever forget the smell, but I met some amazing people in the weeks after.
My mother died that spring, before Sept. and that weekend i drove to texas to visit my brother for 5 weeks. Already had tickets so I saw Cake that weekend too. It really felt weird driving across country while the country was on edge. Then i moved here in Feb. to texas, I guess I wanted to be close to family.
Hi everyone, Because friends share in good things and bad and this is important to me, I thought you all might like to know. My mom, who had been battling many health problems, especially during the past few years, passed away Friday night. She was not a perfect person, but her love for me was. I figure if you want to know more, you'll ask. But if I don't seem quite myself for awhile, that's why. Thanks.
While I was thinking about making a post about people who plaster their faces on billboards, I snapped this photo near downtown with my new camera phone. Though many might be pissed at the poor quality of the photo, it was taken at some distance, and I rather liked how it turned out. You can still make out the Big Brother-like face of the realTOR (yet another irritant -- those commercials touting realTORs) on the sign. He works them there M streets. He isn't all that attractive. So why plaster your face 25 feet high for all to recoil at? Is it gaining or losing you customers? I'd bet on the latter. There's another one of this guy, ESPN radio host Randy Galloway, a round the corner from my house. I get a shock every time I round the bend and see it. Geeg. It's got to be ego-driven. There's no other good reason. And if I can't paint my garage door magenta, why in blazes is this allowed?
Yeah, I'm closer to 40 than 14, but that doesn't mean I can't pretend to be in that band I always wanted to be in. And no, I can't play the guitar for real, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the tar out of this game. In fact, that's the whole POINT. The second version of this Playstation 2 diversion, called Guitar Hero as you can see here, just came out, but I'm too busy woodshedding on a borrowed version of the first one to care about that yet. At first, I sucked so thoroughly the game kicked me out of the song and the crowd booed. Yet now, I can successfully hit 80-96% of the notes on average of tunes ranging from Boston's "More Than A Feeling" to Audioslave's "Cochise." The cool thing is, songs you don't even like much and dismiss as crap, you get new respect for when you try to play them. You also learn how Nikki Sixx must have felt when his fingers and forearms ached from the amount of rockin' he was doing, but
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BoP: Adversity, then as now, inspired greatness.