Oh, yeah, Helen's a happy camper.
Saturday, December 02, 2006
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Monday, September 11, 2006
9/11
September 11, 2001 was an epic event in the lives of many people around the world, especially Americans. The painful and tragic stories of the victims and their families and friends have been torturously documented and absorbed by a collective American society which continues to be divided about the causes, actions, issues and responsibilities pertaining to the event. The latest controversial firestorm centers around ABC's fictional docu-drama The Path to 9/11, which has renewed the divisive discussions.
The raw emotions of 9/11 are deep wounds that have never fully healed for many. Indeed, we don't need big scale items such as the wars in Afganistan and Iraq to keep us constantly reminiscent -- every day insignificant events such as glancing down at my watch and seeing 9:11 triggers flashbacks to our generation's "Day of Infamy."
I can't lay claim to harrowing tales of escape from the WTC, but it is human nature to imagine one's connection with the "what if's" of fate. It is probably unavoidable for all of us to think about our personal connection to 9/11, and how our lives and outlook has been changed by it. One of our friends who lives in Michigan, for instance, will forever be impacted by 9/11 even though to my knowledge she did not lose anyone. Her son's birthday happens to be September 11th, and after that day he cried and told his mother that he was afraid his birthday was never going to be a happy day again. It's been a number of years since we've spoken to this friend, and hopefully her son has been able to transcend this emotional trauma. A former colleague who lived in a high-rise near the towers was cursed with an unfortunate ringside view of the unfolding events. Whereas most of us watched from the removed separation of our television sets, he probably witnessed the horror from his window, curled up hugging his own knees and crying uncontrollably. At least that's how I imagine he saw it. Later I heard how he was permanently traumatized by seeing people jump from the towers, and how he turned more and more to alcohol and drugs, showing up to work trashed when he showed up at all. He soon left the company and dropped off everyone's radar.
Five years ago today I woke up late - around 8:45 - because Helen was scheduled for a doctor's appointment later that morning. As was my routine, I turned on the morning news while making coffee. I remember the TV signal cutting out for a few seconds, replaced by a screen of snow. Before I could finish cursing the cable company, the picture came back showing the World Trade Center with smoke coming out of one of the towers. At first there was some uncertainty about what had happened. The broadcasters talked about a plane hitting the tower. I woke Helen and we watched helplessly as the world quickly spun completely out of control and comprehension.
Just the week before I'd been laid off from my job along with 400 other people caught in the latest ripples of the tech bubble implosion. I'd signed up for an outplacement workshop to be held at the World Trade Center on September 13th, but at the last minute finagled a change to an earlier session held at a different location. I think I just wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. In the days after September 11th, I couldn't help but play through the "what if's" in my mind. What if I didn't change my outplacement session? What if there wasn't room in the earlier session and I had to keep my originally scheduled date? What if the terrorists had chosen September 13th or 14th instead of the 11th? What if on one of those days I arrived early to go up to the observation deck to take in the views or to have breakfast at Windows on the World? Although I'd lived in New York most of my life, I'd never been to the World Trade Center. It was not past the realm of possibility that I would take advantage of having to be there. My mind and imagination spent many dark hours measuring the cosmic distance between my small insignificant life and this apocalyptic event.
As everyone in New York talked about 9/11 in the months following, I heard many stories of people who were supposed to be in one of the towers that day but for one reason or another were not. These stories from the news and from people I actually knew made me realize how many had been going through the same feelings and helped to create the emotional distance necessary to bring life slowly back to something approaching normal. The road to normal was a long one for New York. There were the never-ending updates that filled the media channels. Weekly bomb scares caused evacuations of entire areas and flashbacks of panic. Every lamp post and community area had posters and pictures of missing people. New Yorkers couldn't help but talk about 9/11, and the energy and spirit of the city's people and public places were abnormally subdued for months.
I don't really remember when life returned to a sense of normal for me - probably because I left New York before it happened. I do remember that when we first arrived in Washington, everyone we met who learned that we just moved from New York wanted to talk about 9/11. They couldn't help but ask and in some odd way I felt as if we were soldiers returning from the front lines, sharing our first hand accounts. For us, it became an eerie and immediate connection to people, and reinforced the scale and reach of 9/11.
On this significant anniversary of 9/11, I was again taken back to that time by all the new and recycled documentaries and programs that seemed to fill the TV schedule. I must admit I sought them out. One of the most compelling was PBS's Faith and Doubt at Ground Zero, which examines 9/11 not through the typical lenses of intent, culpability, causal history or statistics, but rather by attempting to answer the unanswerable questions: Where was God on September 11th? What is the nature of evil? Is religion to blame, or is it all we have?
There were many many thought-provoking moments in that program, moments that shocked as well as enlightened my own belief and faith:
* Dr. David Benke, a Lutheran minister who participated in the interfaith "Prayer for America" held at Yankee Stadium on September 23, 2001 was accused of heresy and expelled from his post by the New York Area Lutheran Church. His "crime" was leading a prayer in a forum with leaders from other faiths, thereby lending credence to the notion that all religions are equal. It caused Dr. Benke to question his own religious beliefs as well as the concept of religion itself.
* Margo Adler, an NPR Correspondent, talked about a single line spoken by Vladimir Putin during an interview which chillingly epitomized how the hijackers could carry out such atrocities --
Vladimir Putin came to National Public Radio and gave an interview. And this became a big affair, and there were news articles about it all over the place. But the one thing that he said that I haven't forgotten- and it was never quoted anywhere. It was in no news story. But when I heard it, literally, the hair on the back of my wrists just stood up straight.
He was asked, "Well," you know, "what do you think about- what do you think when Regan said `the evil empire?' " You know, "What was your attitude?" And he said, "Well, I thought it was- you know, it was sort of a way of speaking. It was an exaggeration." And then the interviewer said to him, "Well," you know, "when George Bush talks about the"- you know, "Usama bin Laden as evil," you know, "do you think it's also a turn of phrase?" And Putin said, "No. I think that is really mild language. I have many words for them, but I couldn't say them on the air." And then he said, "We are as dust to them." That was the line that got me, "We are as dust to them."
So maybe what evil is, on some level, is when you get- when you believe in something so utterly that you lose your sense that a human being is a human being, when you feel that you can go into a building and kill 3,000 people and it doesn't matter because you are so focused on what you think is perfection and good, maybe that is a definition of evil. It's a kind of estrangement, though. It's an estrangement from your connection that these other human beings, the ones that are jumping out the window to the bottom, are just like you.
And that is probably the deepest religious perception that liberal religious tradition puts forward, that we are, you know, all human beings together on this planet in the same way, with certain kinds of values. And that's clearly what was lost.
* Dasha Rittenberg, a Holocaust survivor, pierced at my belief in God with unparriable words of experience --
I can only describe evil by giving you what I remember. Not what I read in books, but what I with my own eyes and ears heard and saw. Evil. What happened to my parents? They were the last people to leave the ghetto and they were taken to Auschwitz. I know that they were burned into ashes. My mother, my father, my three brothers, my younger sister, my uncles, my aunts, their children, burned into ashes. That's all I have seen in humanity is evil. I have seen hangings. I have seen shootings. I saw one man, his name was Mischka. He was a Ukranian. He was drunk. He would just go killing every single day. He had to have his blood on his hands -- Jewish blood. Evil. You want to hear more? So? All the ghetto life, the hunger, the poverty, the lice that were crawling on my body. Evil. Evil people just patting their dogs and then killing a child because it was Jewish. Evil? OK? Hitting, slapping, for no reason, because you were not even in line with the next person. Being hit by dogs and bitten -- the blood running out of your feet. Evil. People would go to sleep every night and get up in the morning and eat and drink and be evil. Were they too created in the image of God? I don't know. What does it say about God?
* I marvelled at Brian Doyle's essay and Ian McEwan's interview which showcase an inspiring ability to extract the message of love from the inconceivable horrors of seeing people jump from the burning towers.
This anniversary has affected me much more than I would have ever imagined. I have spent more time and energy in reflection and remembrance than at any time since 2001. The past few days have certainly revealed that the wound is still raw and deep. The answers are still not clear.
The raw emotions of 9/11 are deep wounds that have never fully healed for many. Indeed, we don't need big scale items such as the wars in Afganistan and Iraq to keep us constantly reminiscent -- every day insignificant events such as glancing down at my watch and seeing 9:11 triggers flashbacks to our generation's "Day of Infamy."
I can't lay claim to harrowing tales of escape from the WTC, but it is human nature to imagine one's connection with the "what if's" of fate. It is probably unavoidable for all of us to think about our personal connection to 9/11, and how our lives and outlook has been changed by it. One of our friends who lives in Michigan, for instance, will forever be impacted by 9/11 even though to my knowledge she did not lose anyone. Her son's birthday happens to be September 11th, and after that day he cried and told his mother that he was afraid his birthday was never going to be a happy day again. It's been a number of years since we've spoken to this friend, and hopefully her son has been able to transcend this emotional trauma. A former colleague who lived in a high-rise near the towers was cursed with an unfortunate ringside view of the unfolding events. Whereas most of us watched from the removed separation of our television sets, he probably witnessed the horror from his window, curled up hugging his own knees and crying uncontrollably. At least that's how I imagine he saw it. Later I heard how he was permanently traumatized by seeing people jump from the towers, and how he turned more and more to alcohol and drugs, showing up to work trashed when he showed up at all. He soon left the company and dropped off everyone's radar.
Five years ago today I woke up late - around 8:45 - because Helen was scheduled for a doctor's appointment later that morning. As was my routine, I turned on the morning news while making coffee. I remember the TV signal cutting out for a few seconds, replaced by a screen of snow. Before I could finish cursing the cable company, the picture came back showing the World Trade Center with smoke coming out of one of the towers. At first there was some uncertainty about what had happened. The broadcasters talked about a plane hitting the tower. I woke Helen and we watched helplessly as the world quickly spun completely out of control and comprehension.
Just the week before I'd been laid off from my job along with 400 other people caught in the latest ripples of the tech bubble implosion. I'd signed up for an outplacement workshop to be held at the World Trade Center on September 13th, but at the last minute finagled a change to an earlier session held at a different location. I think I just wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. In the days after September 11th, I couldn't help but play through the "what if's" in my mind. What if I didn't change my outplacement session? What if there wasn't room in the earlier session and I had to keep my originally scheduled date? What if the terrorists had chosen September 13th or 14th instead of the 11th? What if on one of those days I arrived early to go up to the observation deck to take in the views or to have breakfast at Windows on the World? Although I'd lived in New York most of my life, I'd never been to the World Trade Center. It was not past the realm of possibility that I would take advantage of having to be there. My mind and imagination spent many dark hours measuring the cosmic distance between my small insignificant life and this apocalyptic event.
As everyone in New York talked about 9/11 in the months following, I heard many stories of people who were supposed to be in one of the towers that day but for one reason or another were not. These stories from the news and from people I actually knew made me realize how many had been going through the same feelings and helped to create the emotional distance necessary to bring life slowly back to something approaching normal. The road to normal was a long one for New York. There were the never-ending updates that filled the media channels. Weekly bomb scares caused evacuations of entire areas and flashbacks of panic. Every lamp post and community area had posters and pictures of missing people. New Yorkers couldn't help but talk about 9/11, and the energy and spirit of the city's people and public places were abnormally subdued for months.
I don't really remember when life returned to a sense of normal for me - probably because I left New York before it happened. I do remember that when we first arrived in Washington, everyone we met who learned that we just moved from New York wanted to talk about 9/11. They couldn't help but ask and in some odd way I felt as if we were soldiers returning from the front lines, sharing our first hand accounts. For us, it became an eerie and immediate connection to people, and reinforced the scale and reach of 9/11.
On this significant anniversary of 9/11, I was again taken back to that time by all the new and recycled documentaries and programs that seemed to fill the TV schedule. I must admit I sought them out. One of the most compelling was PBS's Faith and Doubt at Ground Zero, which examines 9/11 not through the typical lenses of intent, culpability, causal history or statistics, but rather by attempting to answer the unanswerable questions: Where was God on September 11th? What is the nature of evil? Is religion to blame, or is it all we have?
There were many many thought-provoking moments in that program, moments that shocked as well as enlightened my own belief and faith:
* Dr. David Benke, a Lutheran minister who participated in the interfaith "Prayer for America" held at Yankee Stadium on September 23, 2001 was accused of heresy and expelled from his post by the New York Area Lutheran Church. His "crime" was leading a prayer in a forum with leaders from other faiths, thereby lending credence to the notion that all religions are equal. It caused Dr. Benke to question his own religious beliefs as well as the concept of religion itself.
* Margo Adler, an NPR Correspondent, talked about a single line spoken by Vladimir Putin during an interview which chillingly epitomized how the hijackers could carry out such atrocities --
Vladimir Putin came to National Public Radio and gave an interview. And this became a big affair, and there were news articles about it all over the place. But the one thing that he said that I haven't forgotten- and it was never quoted anywhere. It was in no news story. But when I heard it, literally, the hair on the back of my wrists just stood up straight.
He was asked, "Well," you know, "what do you think about- what do you think when Regan said `the evil empire?' " You know, "What was your attitude?" And he said, "Well, I thought it was- you know, it was sort of a way of speaking. It was an exaggeration." And then the interviewer said to him, "Well," you know, "when George Bush talks about the"- you know, "Usama bin Laden as evil," you know, "do you think it's also a turn of phrase?" And Putin said, "No. I think that is really mild language. I have many words for them, but I couldn't say them on the air." And then he said, "We are as dust to them." That was the line that got me, "We are as dust to them."
So maybe what evil is, on some level, is when you get- when you believe in something so utterly that you lose your sense that a human being is a human being, when you feel that you can go into a building and kill 3,000 people and it doesn't matter because you are so focused on what you think is perfection and good, maybe that is a definition of evil. It's a kind of estrangement, though. It's an estrangement from your connection that these other human beings, the ones that are jumping out the window to the bottom, are just like you.
And that is probably the deepest religious perception that liberal religious tradition puts forward, that we are, you know, all human beings together on this planet in the same way, with certain kinds of values. And that's clearly what was lost.
* Dasha Rittenberg, a Holocaust survivor, pierced at my belief in God with unparriable words of experience --
I can only describe evil by giving you what I remember. Not what I read in books, but what I with my own eyes and ears heard and saw. Evil. What happened to my parents? They were the last people to leave the ghetto and they were taken to Auschwitz. I know that they were burned into ashes. My mother, my father, my three brothers, my younger sister, my uncles, my aunts, their children, burned into ashes. That's all I have seen in humanity is evil. I have seen hangings. I have seen shootings. I saw one man, his name was Mischka. He was a Ukranian. He was drunk. He would just go killing every single day. He had to have his blood on his hands -- Jewish blood. Evil. You want to hear more? So? All the ghetto life, the hunger, the poverty, the lice that were crawling on my body. Evil. Evil people just patting their dogs and then killing a child because it was Jewish. Evil? OK? Hitting, slapping, for no reason, because you were not even in line with the next person. Being hit by dogs and bitten -- the blood running out of your feet. Evil. People would go to sleep every night and get up in the morning and eat and drink and be evil. Were they too created in the image of God? I don't know. What does it say about God?
* I marvelled at Brian Doyle's essay and Ian McEwan's interview which showcase an inspiring ability to extract the message of love from the inconceivable horrors of seeing people jump from the burning towers.
This anniversary has affected me much more than I would have ever imagined. I have spent more time and energy in reflection and remembrance than at any time since 2001. The past few days have certainly revealed that the wound is still raw and deep. The answers are still not clear.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Sidewalk art
Most of you have probably seen Julian Beever's artwork on the net. Truly amazing. Something I'd love to see in person someday.
Friday, September 01, 2006
Farewell Corndawg
Friday was Jeff's last day at Cingular. Although his tenure at Cingular (and AWS before that) lasted over 3 years, Corndawg's only been with our group for little more than a year.
In that time he's proven to be industrious, creative and extremely capable. More than that, he's brought a zany energy to our group. Jeff is famous for his office wagers - not the type that involves money, but that more rare and sweetest of prizes - bragging rights. Who can forget the famous Super Bowl wager? Or the endless rounds of cubicle plinking and paper football? His cube was always like Grand Central Station - noisy, chatty, pealing with laughter, and heavily trafficked. Newly minted colleagues and oldtimers alike were instantly drawn into Jeff's circle. A visit to the Corndawg Corner guaranteed a lightening of the proverbial load, no matter what time of day or what mess needed to be solved.
In short, Jeff always brought an extra helping of fun to share with his fellow citizens of Dilbertland. He was by far the most beloved character of our little bunch. So much so that there wasn't just one, but three going away parties. We'll miss ya, Corndawg.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Best use of a Segway
The Mariners get my vote for best use (and implementation) of a Segway transport.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Happy Anniversary!
Yesterday was Helen and my 7th anniversary, and I've got a hunch it'll be one of our most memorable. Neither of us finds it necessary to go overboard to celebrate special days - birthdays, Valentines Day, anniversaries. We'll go out to a nice dinner or go for drinks, but my feeling is I can choose to make any day a special day, and I don't freak out if people don't make a big deal on my behalf. I'm pretty sure Helen's of the same mindset, so we weren't upset or perturbed when the latest launch was scheduled on the night of our anniversary. When we entered the Willows campus conference room a little after midnight, our colleagues gave us a round of applause and a hearty chorus of "Happy Anniversary!" J-Fo even brought us an anniversary balloon attached to a bag of candy. It was very sweet. Did I mention the team we work with is simply awesome? They are smart, hard working, dedicated, creative, and generally happy funny people who are passionate about the work but can totally pal around with you. Most of the people on our team are people I'd want to be friends with even if I didn't work with them. They are, without a doubt, the best reason I have to go to work every day.
So this is the way Helen and I spent the night of our 7th anniversary - laughing and working with a bunch of the smartest, nicest people you'd ever find in Redmond on a Tuesday night. For the first couple of hours, while we were waiting for the new code to be installed, we entertained ourselves by watching funny clips, amazing b-ball dunks, and listening to "Working Where The Sun Don't Shine" (The Colorectal Surgeon's Song). Thanks for sharing, Jeff.
As it turned out, the launch didn't go as planned, and night turned into day (look at the window in the 2 pictures at left) as we conducted a rollback.
We were all dead tired as the hours mounted and people fresh from their full night's sleep and morning Starbucks started rolling into the office. A couple of them happened into the conference room, looked at us, and backed out with a "wet puppy" look of sympathy. Or maybe they were just scared of Tish, who for some reason started to transform into the unabomber.
Besides the obviously disappointing failure to launch, there was only one other thing that was amiss - the notable absence of PJ, who had been a fixture at all of our prior launches. This time, PJ was scheduled for the "day shift" covering for all the folks who were on the night shift. With the unforseen problems during rollback, it got late (or early) enough that PJ actually made it in to commiserate with us, and to take over for the deployment team. With the rollback complete, Helen and I headed home to let Jack out and get some rest. I don't know which member of the team was the last to leave, but my bet would be on Oliver.It may not be most people's idea of a happy anniversary, but I know this is one night I'll look back on with great fondness.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Friends don't let friends watch golf
One of the Senior PGA tour stops takes place right in our neighborhood and residents get free passes to the event, so we walked over to the clubhouse and attended our first ever professional golf event. Let me tell you - as boring as golf is on television, wathing it live is 1000 times more boring. On television they use cutaways and multiple cameras allow you to see the golfers up close and see the concentration on their faces. After the action is over at one hole they can zip you over to another part of the course - editing out the long pauses between shots and the even longer wait while the players are taking their sweet time sauntering down the fairway. These guys may be able to hit the ball 300 yards, but they sure ain't breaking any track records getting to the ball for the next shot. Watching golf live you totally lose the magical benefits of technology and editing which at least has some measure of success in keeping your attention. There's probably a greater difference between golf the television experience and golf live than any sport I can think of. Maybe if it was the regular PGA tour instead of the Legends it might be more exciting.
So the lesson here kids, don't let your pals trick you into going to watch a golf tournament at least until you can officially become a member of AARP. Resist with all your might. Don't let them fool ya with the old "it's more exciting watching them live" or "it's just like going to the Mariner game." But then again, I guess it's still not as bad as getting poked in the eye with a stick. I think.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Bring out the brooms
Over the wall of my Dilbert cubicle today came Heidi's mournful voice, "The Yankees swept!" Her lament wasn't directed at me, but at Jeff - our resident sports fanatic and die-hard Mariner fan. Both native Washingtonians, they have an ingrained hatred of all New York teams, and the Yankees in particular. Of course, I dared not snicker out loud, though I couldn't help breaking out into what must have been an evil grin. Good thing for cubicle walls.I know I shouldn't revel in the misery of Sawx fans, and I'll probably go to hell, or worse, suffer the wrath of the baseball gods by swallowing a late September collapse of my beloved pinstripers. But I have to share this gem of a blog post I found on www.survivinggrady.com
Here's everything you need to know about yesterday's game in a nutshell: In the bottom of the fourth, down 3-0, we came screaming back with two walks and four straight hits -- one of them a Manny home run -- to take the lead, 4-3. We had the Unit scrambling and in the dugout, you could just see Francona snuggling up to Momentum, slowly but craftily working his hands to the buttons of her blouse. In short, everything starting to look our way. Then Kapler comes up with the bases loaded and a chance to blow it all apart... and meekly grounds into a double play to end the inning. Just like that, Momentum picks up her sweater and pocketbook and heads across the field.
Later, in the top of the sixth, the Yanks loaded the bases on three straight walks, and Jorge Posada stepped to the plate with the bases loaded and a chance to blow it all apart. And he does, smacking a triple to no man's land.
See, that's a big difference. Whenever they needed the big hit, they got it. When we did, we didn't. And it hasn't helped that our pitching has suckled the teat of crudliness for the past three games.
I knew it had the chance to be bad, this series, but I'll be honest -- I didn't expect the schoolyard beat-down that's been going on. This has been an embarassment of epic porportions, punctuated by moments of baseball so profoundly bad, I've been forced to wonder how this team has kept my hopes aloft for the better part of this season. Each subsequent game has brought horrors more ghastly and inexplicable than the previous, to the point that if Abreau and Damon simply drove a pick-up truck around the bases, mowing our players down one-by-one, I probably wouldn't flinch. This is bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad baseball. Giving up 28 walks to one of the most offensively potent line-ups in the game? No soup for you, my friends. No soup for you.
Despite my sudden urge to booze up and riot, I'll keep myself grounded with the thought that if we win the next two games, we'll be only two and a half games behind the Yankees. And we could still -- mathematically if not realistically -- catch 'em.
But, seriously, if Curt coughs up six runs in the first couple innings tonight, I'm gonna have to wash my hands of this series and just put on some porno.
So delicious.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
