Boy, not just a little anger in that last post, was there?
And, contemplating my writing earlier this morning, I can see denial wending its way through the desert. Note the immediate going into over-intellectualizing mode? Not only does that push away the emotional blow of something like this, but it gives an illusion of control.
Walking around at lunch, it was weird. Bright, sunny, pleasant day here in Denver. A little breeze flapping the sprinkler line flags. Ducks in the pond. Same ol’ Tokyo Joes to eat at. People talking, laughing, working, as though nothing were different.
And in the restaurant, the TVs were all turned to news channels, and I got to see the video footage. It was like (a bit more denial here) some medioicre special effects from a movie. The plane swings behind the closer tower, a ball of fire erupts from the other side. One tower collapses. The other. Mediocre because any sfx house worth its salt would show you what was happening more clearly.
After the Mount St. Helens eruption some years back, one subtle but definite impact was on the Portland skyline. The “perfect cone” of Mt. St. Helens (as LeGuin described in The Lathe of Heaven) was gone, a crumbled peak left behind. So, too, I wonder whether the destruction of the tops of the two towers (and, perhaps inevitably, the demolition of the whole structure) will have, in its absence, an ongoing psychic impact on those whose view of the NYC skyline included the WTC.
Margie’s off to the airport, to pick up the ‘Rents. They are (so we’ve heard) allowing vehicles in for that purpose. We’ll see. Hope there are no problems.
Update: Got a call from my mom no more than a minute later. They’re on the way to the house. Huzzah.