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by DefinitelyNOTtheSWEDE_Archive
At work, I was invited to an awful “roundtable” discussion with peeps from general pop and senior management/CEO dudes. Those chosen to attend were done so at random, and it sucked because I was right at the head of the conference table, despite being a lowly data entry nobody. Two guys next to me were discussing something about a “plane” hitting the trade center before the meeting began. I remember being a lil groggy, and maybe hung over.
The big man CEO comes out and gives a speech all about this new department at my company specifically servicing the US Armed Forces (we deal in corporate relocation). As he put it, this was to be our saving grace as a company, and that we should all look to this as a great department to be in, and a guarantee of financial well being in the future.
All of a sudden, this bookish lady with the expression of shock on her face came in and called him aside, as another of the upper mgt dudes took over telling us meaningless numbers and using the word success, a lot. After a minute or so, he came back in and advised us that a tragedy had taken place in New York, and that we should all go to the cafeteria and look at the TV’s, or call any loved ones we may have in the greater New York area (I live in western CT).
I’m a dick, pretty much, and especially back then in my office. Often a smug prick who has dumb sarcastic shit to say at the ready for all occasions, but I was sort of taken aback by this very weird announcement, and couldn’t even muster a goofy mumble. The thing was, it reminded me of being a little kid, and you never felt scarred unless your parents looked scarred. The normally very professional CEO looked scarred, if still only on a corporate level.
So we all wander into the cafeteria and there are about 30 people standing there. Ladies covering their mouths, the whole bit. It was just after the second plane hit. Man. I work in an office of around 1800 people, and not a damn one of them were ready for that shit. We used to have an outdoor smoking pavilion (that ended by 2002… non smoking environment). I spent the day out there. Must have smoked 2 packs that day alone.
At the door into the building there was this Security guy named Dick. Dick was an old radio personality (local) from the fifties, and had a huge booming deep blackman’s voice that he used to tell us how many days of shopping till Christmas, the sports results, all sorts of stuff every morning by sort of loudly shouting to anyone walking up. A sort of Mock broadcast. I asked him what he thought about this all, intrigued with what he might say. He just sort of looked at me with that “you damn rich stupid white boy, what the hell do you know about anything” sort of look (he must have been in his seventies, and I am sure he was an ex-military man of some sort). All he had to say was that we better enlist soon, because we’re all going to get drafted any way. I felt sick.
That day was weird. Pentagon on fire. Buildings going down. Rumors of all sorts. All day all you could do was look at CNN or check the webpages. Me and Clortho (who also works here) went to lunch. We both felt like our goofy world had been slapped hard. Mr. Clortho is and was a papa, and we were actually serious enough, long enough for him to question what kind of world this was going to be to raise a child in. That was a depressing meal. The shitty diner was all ablaze with talk of war, terrorists. And this was just 11:30am! I remember thinking, Jesus, what the hell else is going to happen today?
I lived in a wacky house at the time with 3 other guys, and we all came home and sat in front of the TV. Just could not look away. I just did not want to be unprepared when the next wave hit. I remember thinking very selfishly that I can’t deal with this shit, or things like, “Fuck! All I wanna do is make records and now we have to fight wars and shit!”. I didn’t know what to make of the new President yet. I was only vaguely political at that point, I knew I was supposed to hate “the Bush”, but maybe had no specifics regarding why. I mean, he must at least be competent, right? It didn’t take long to find very specific things to hate and feel very worried about.
Self absorbedly, as usual, I remember having a long rant that night about how shit like this was going to do something incredible for Art and music in this country. We would really see a new Bob Dylan or something. I really believed that this was a huge wakeup call and that the world at large would have to reexamine some shit and get serious.
In the coming weeks, they wanted me to wear America pins, which I refused to do. I watched theses shitty co-workers of mine at the time co-opt pain and start crying even a month later despite the fact they knew no-one directly affected by this… just to be the “the people who really cared” (There is a particularly apt David Cross bit about that, to the T). I was in an elevator with two horrible people discussing the new plastic USA flags for their cars, and comparing the quality of the new mounting devices each had ordered, as though they were talking about beanie babies. Never once actually considering what that stood for, what it was they were supporting, good or bad. Just following the rest of the people.
I overheard less than well educated fellows in bars talking about what they would do if Osama Bin Laden were in their neighborhood (“yo, bra, like I would get his head in like a headlock…”) or the crazy dudes with their “just bomb the fuckers back to the stone age!” in line at the convenience store in front of me.
I guess the overall effect was just shame. Shame that such a thing had to happen. Shame that we have done some horrible things in America’s name at some point, and shame that the “Terrorists” have no alternative, in their minds, than to blow us up. Maybe it was the first time I actually felt ashamed, in a small, yet real way of being an American, and not just assuming I was based solely on Punk Rock ethics and standard twenty-something-hipster rhetoric.
Oh, and the irony of this meeting I mentioned at the start, was that the very department that was to be our saving grace, the US Armed services relocation contract, was yanked by the government because of this call to arms. So, many people here lost their jobs.
And instead of a new artistic revolution, all we got was American Idol.
joesepi wrote:This has nothing to do with our impending doom. I just love dirt bikes.
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