Lighter Fare This Week...

Oooh!  i hate it when i don't post for so long! and i really have lots to say; in fact, a few times in the past week i have begun a post, only to delete it, because i thought it just got too ... too ... well, too ramble-y, you know?  the way that my thoughts often are but that i try to organize and pare down to the essentials when i write for a (possible?  small?  somewhere, someday?) audience :)


anyway, the first thing on today's "lightness" menu is this link which was sent to me via one of my email subscriptions; the HuffingtonPost, which i do consider one of my favorite hodgepodge blogs, always has these montage-type posts that are filled with photos, advertisements, newspaper articles and the like ... all gathered with a theme of something outrageous and usually something that i, and apparently people of like mind with me, find hilarious.  but today, ohhhh today!  just go here and see for yourself, paying SPECIAL attention to PHOTO NUMBER SIX (please)...  go on, i'll wait... really, if you're in a rush, you can JUST look at number SIX! ... ...


back?  okay then.  here's the astonishing thing:  I took the exact same photograph like 8 years ago whilst on a road trip to the indiana state fair, accompanied by my best friend and my brother, to see the ill-fated boy band O-TOWN perform.  dammit!  but before we get to THAT little tidbit... how and why did i find myself at such a state of mind shrine to ridiculous racism, which apparently was SO hilariously inappropriate and ridiculous that the HuffPost AND i found it appealing -- nay, necessary -- to snap a photo?!   allow me to explain...


while driving for what was the first time for all of us in our neighboring state, we had only to cross the border before launching into a full-blown attack on their inferiority (i apologize now, okay? i was immature and pathetically trying to find an identity, if only one attached to my midwestern "prairie" state).  i successfully ran a crazed truck driver onto the shoulder so that i and others could pass him after he had been spotted for miles and miles aggressively nudging and forcing small cars and other 18-wheelers out of his lanes.  in the traffic jam that you will almost always find just over the bridge / state line between IL and IN, i was actually cheered and given fist pumps of approval for my aggressive off-roadin' while, well, ON the road.  that was fun.  it only served to encourage the raucous behavior and the mental state that one often acquires on a road trip with friends ... that in which everything is hilarious, and no one else ever noticed it before you and your witty, genius friends.  


well, the traffic broke open, and we drove through little town after little town, on and on through flat lands of grass and factory smoke and some corn (yes, it's the same here, and in our OTHER neighboring state, Iowa, except i would estimate that in IA, they have more corn, less factory smoke).  we were about 45 minutes or something from our destination, hungry and almost not finding everything funny anymore ... when we saw that sign (is that right?  perhaps i was delirious?  i cannot recall exactly where these towns are, and quite frankly, i've not been motivated to look 'em up on google earth, ok?)!  


"look!  look!" i screamed, slowing down, because hey, there wasn't any traffic to engage in  vehicular fisticuffs anyway ... there was a state highway sign informing us that these two towns were coming up in three quarters of a mile!  thank you, highway department of Indiana!  that sign gave me an idea that something was strange and that we needed photographic proof.  summoning my camera from phil, my friend and navigator at the time, we actually found this important enough to pull over onto the shoulder and get out of the car.  yes, we really did.   


"this state is hicksville central," i joked, "there are two SEPARATE, but i'm sure EQUAL, towns for 'whites' and 'browns,' and i think we all know what they mean by that."  always one to jump in when an inappropriate or uncouth statement is being made (you might call it a joke if you share our sense of humor), phil said, "so where do red and yellow stay?"   but THAT remained a mystery during our visit...as, so far, we have not seen any towns or cities in IN that indicate where any other races should go.


SO the picture was developed from my disposable road trip camera ... EIGHT years ago, or possibly more???  i'd have to pull my O-TOWN/Indy State Fair ticket out of its memorabilia box to be certain.  And now, somehow, someone else has seen fit to publish the same photo (taken under very similar circumstances, wouldn't you guess?) in this "ridiculous" compilation.  i think i'm offended that MINE wasn't used.  i think i'm also offended that the HuffPost is getting all the credit for my old, worn-out, COLLEGE jokes.  


also, tell me what you think, but ... i dunno, to me most of those pictures weren't very hilarious; they were kind of just ... offensive.  have i turned too serious or something?  i mean, racism isn't actually funny, after all.   

Toni Keller

Okay, I have a lot of blogging built up inside that is just pushing and shoving its way, itching to get out.  And I will be working on posts that I've promised such as one on "Sister Wives" (oh the many words of horror to be written....), but...

Let's get this first thing out there, well, first.  As I've mentioned before, my undergraduate degree is from a state university in Illinois called northern illinois university.  it has a pretty good law school and a kick-ass business school (like top in the nation), but other than that, not a lot of folks know much about it.  a couple of years ago on valentine's day, it got some notorious mention because it was the site of a school shooting/massacre.  my fucking heart almost stopped that day; my brother was undergrad there at the time. fortunately for us (and not at all to make light of the lives that WERE lost that day), he was not injured.  however, the psychological stress and damage that occurred in the lives of the students who were in class or on campus that day lives on.  my brother was on his way to a building very near the shooter and found himself hiding in yet another building, running and confused in between, and generally part of the chaos that had ensued in the blink of an eye.  i am not doing the situation justice, but that is because that isn't what this particular post is about tonight.


no, tonight is about toni keller, a freshman at niu who went missing two weeks ago and is now presumed deceased, murdered actually.  we the public, we the alumni, the "we" who are her family and friends, and any other "we" you can name among us ... WE do not have any accurate information about what happened to her.  here is what i personally know from reading and researching and watching news shows.  if there is more, and certainly if there are inaccuracies, do comment or email:
**remains thought to be toni's but which remain unidentified at this time were found two days or less after she went missing by dekalb / niu police (i shall lump them together, because they seem to be working as one, and i don't know which body has provided which evidence, info, etc.) ; however, police did not make this information public until a few days AGO.


**police have now released the information that the unidentified remains were found among other evidence that was "consistent with materials" said to be on toni's person when she was last seen.


**for the week or so between the finding of remains and the providing of this information to the public, niu/dekalb police made no statement to indicate to students and others that homicide was a possibility or that their efforts (putting up fliers, etc) might be in vain... let alone the fact that they might need to take extra precautions in light of a possible right-next-to-campus murder.  


**in fact, during that time period, police encouraged students and other volunteers to continue their efforts at notifying the community of the missing student, doing what they could to find information on her whereabouts, and other activities that were in vain and could also be dangerous in light of what police knew.


....so i could on about the facts like that, but it's really been a murky fuck-up.  it's like the keystone cops up there.  dekalb is a farm town, a small town for sure, with the college life being the main "culture" outside of the rural.  i am not in any way slamming the rural life; after all, i'm a midwesterner, born and bred, and I respect the back-breaking, financially perilous work that farmers do (although i'm pleased to report that i've known some IL farmers who have been quite wealthy and NOT from selling off to retail or whatever, but i digress...).


what i'm saying is that i'm sure what the police and niu are doing and have already done was for the sake of "public relations and image."  and when i make an accusation like saying they're "keystone cops," oh, yes, i realize it's an old stereotype of rural, small-town cops.  i said it, wrote it, because it's the truth.  they have made me so ashamed, so so so disgusted and angry and ASHAMED to be any part of them, alumni, resident of the state, whatever.  not to mention the fact that i come from a family THICK with police officers, police support staff such as 911 operators, and attorneys.  i know about "P.R." in cases like this, ok?  i understand that the police can't "tip their hand" to the murderer and all that shit.  and you know what?  they could have handled this 1,000% better and more appropriately and still done their jobs.  so i sure hope i don't hear them come out later, with any "hindsight is 20/20" bullshit, because that's horsecrap.  and hey, horse crap, they should know about out there.  ha.  dig.


seriously now.  tonight the news is that there is a "person of interest" which we all know means a person who will be a suspect once we are sure we have the evidence (or the right guy).  keeping consistent with prior form, the police have not said where, only that this p.o.i. is being held in another state (indiana?  florida?  hawaii?) where he committed some crimes.  extradition is said to be "pending."  ohhh lawd.  will the state in question even extradite this guy????  is anyone from dekalb/niu going out to speak to him or question him?  does anyone know what they're doing with a suspect (oops, person of interest) in these circumstances?  because, oh, by the way, they don't accept help from other police departments from what i'm told.


there's a lot more to say, the kind of information swirling in my head that i really should make an outline of, and then write it in an appropriate form, like a legal research paper or whatever, a legal opinion essay more realistically.  people don't think you know what you're talking about when you just spout off, i realize, but i know what i'm talking about, believe me.  or don't.  i could give a shit.  the main thing tonight is that i hope and pray someone somewhere (a police officer, ideally) is ON the person who did this horrible crime to this poor girl (IF it turns out the remains are hers and this is what happened to her, which is not certain but seems very likely, sadly).  also, my prayers and i know that prayers of students and alumni all over the community are with her family, who are the newest victims in all of this:  at least we can hope toni is at peace somewhere now...


NOW LET'S GET JUSTICE, ANSWERS, AND THE HOPE FOR EVENTUAL PEACE FOR TONI'S FAMILY.

A Rambling (Stream o' Consciousness)

hooooo...ohhhkay.  as you might have guessed (or hell, maybe not), i've been wanting to write more frequently in this blog, and dammit, i'm going to do it, i AM doing it... also, i've been wanting to write a little bit differently, maybe with a different level of openness, different authenticity, whatever, MORE of all that.  this sounds silly when i say it (write it, whatever) to y'all, but what i'm about to try and describe is so true for me at this exact point in my life:


i don't know whether this is common throughout creative writing classes in the whole u.s. or the world over, but my writing education steeped me in the training of how to use what's commonly referred to as stream-of-consciousness writing.  i was taught to do this as a form of journaling, brainstorming, getting past writer's block and basically any other time that i needed to get my feelings or the "junk" that is blocking them onto paper.  it doesn't always work for me, but usually it does, pretty damn well.


another way that this might work -- and i say might only because it's a method i was reading about literally only 2 or 3 days ago and thus haven't tried it yet for myself -- is to write your feelings or thoughts or (this was the specific exercise suggested in the book i was reading) the answers to specific questions you ask yourself about your life, your future.  but the catch is you  write the answers down using your non-dominant hand!  so, yes, folks, to do it properly, it requires a good old-fashioned pen-and-paper i suppose.  but you could always transfer what you wrote onto the computer if you wish to journal it and keep it for future reference.  the author who was explaining this method had a fairly lengthy chapter about why and how this works and why it's worth it doing and practicing (he went so far as to suggest you might eventually even get in touch with your sixth sense, psychic abilities, etc.. but i'm not going to go there for now, not for this post.  ask me about the book if you are interested in knowing all about the specifics, k?).


so, i suppose i'm being extremely verbose just to tell my readers that i'm going to try and write in a more casual format for awhile now.  you know what it is?  probably my big fat ego! i'm an educated and sometimes-professional writer/editor, and probably what it comes down to is the fact that i can't bear to write a blog without punctuation and all that shite without EXPLAINING.  ahhh well.  at least i know myself.  somewhat.  and truly, i often feel that writing is one of the only "gifts" or talents or whatever that i have, one of the only shots i have at being in a career or successful or something like that (this is usually how i feel more when i'm being overly emotional rather than reasonable and planning my life logically).  so this is whence and why i get this way, act this way ... am i just so insufferable?  


well, here's part 2 of my whole "thing."  i've been working on a separate blog, also written in casual format like this.  i've been practicing and sort of exploring where i truly want it to take me, what kinds of things i truly want to write about and how they differ from what i write here.  now i'm going to try the same thing here, and maybe the two will become one.  if they don't, then i have a problem with this one, and it is that i don't feel comfortable being open here.  i can guess a number of reasons for that, but i'm not going to worry about it yet.  i'm going to push myself to create an open journalistic/memoir blog here, just like i set out to do in the beginning.  for the time being, i'll use my private one to try out ideas, to write rough drafts, etc.  


i've gotten flak over the years, in addition to openly-confused questions, from all sorts of people online, as well as those who know me in "real" life; they want to know why we bloggers (those who write blogs as personal expressions, as records or diaries of our lives anyway) feel compelled to share our struggles, our mistakes, even our illegal activities at times, with the world.  some people have become hostile toward me, expressed hateful opinions toward others who blog in this manner, because they don't understand, don't approve, whatever.  


it's not that i owe anyone a fucking explanation, because i know that i don't, please believe.  in fact, i am damn unapologetic about most of my life (except ignoring punctuation and such, teehee), even or especially when it flies in the face of supposed social mores.  but oh, i suppose now i'm getting into what should be my next post, or some subsequent one.  people have a problem with my blogging about real life, my personal life, my issues, concerns, feelings, anger, etc.  because you know, what if you are a person in my "real" life, and what if i'm mad at you?  what if i hate something you've done?  what if i'm just flat out annoyed with you right now?  what if i hate your fucking stupid taste in music?  what if you pissed me off with a "typical" comment this week and i didn't say anything and i want to brood about it right here on my blog before i address it with you?  ya know?


well, this is the type of thing i've been trying to settle in my mind, sort out, write out, divvy up with my left hand as guide, etc.  and for the record, those examples of petty arguments, anger, irritations, etc. were NOT specific events going on right now toward any specific people in my life right now, so don't even go there, people who know me!!!!!  what i'm saying is this, and i suppose that for some folks out there reading, it might be one of the most important parts of this post:


i have decided that i am not going to censor myself in writing endeavors; thus, reading or not reading this is all up to you, and perhaps whatever i write does not affect your life to the point of affecting any real change in your emotional status, etc.  and that's great.  because the bigger my audience, be they raging lunatics or adoring fans, the happier this writer blogger girl is.  


that is all for now.

Recovery

Okay, fine, I guess I might as well admit that this whole thing with my cat has me scared shitless.  What a nerd.  What a wimp.  I don't want to leave him, and I can't get interested in movies or books or anything, not even my writing very much, until I see that he is ... well, until he is himself.  I never had a cat before Dorian, and although I've had him now for over six years, those have been blessedly healthy, incident-free years for the most part.  Having his three teeth pulled, and all the anesthesia, anti-biotics, pain-killers, mushed-up food, etc., that entails, is waaaay beyond anything that he and I have previously experienced. It's also beyond what either of us -- and I'm fairly certain I can speak for both cat and myself here -- expected.  He once had dental work a couple of years ago, but it was only a cleaning ... and yes, the anesthesia confused him and made him totter around in a haze for a few days, but it wasn't like this.  He only hid out under the bed that time for a few hours, then woke up and heard my boyfriend and I downstairs talking and singing out to him of treats and fresh food ... and he came down to play and snuggle.  Soon all the trauma was forgotten...


This is more difficult, because if I offer a treat, it will have to be a soggy one, that I have softened with warm water like his other food (canned and "wet" food are available to him here, but he's always hated them); I'm hoping and yet doubtful that he will like this formulation.  Also, for the next 9 days, I will have to remain a dubious enemy of sorts, trying to create a routine wherein I am able to shoot a syringe full of amoxicillin down his throat twice a day.  I feel like this will make his forgetting my transgressions (car ride, entrapment in cat-carrier, abandonment at the vet, etc) much more difficult.  


The thing is, I've always been confident in the fact that if I'm doing what's right for him, and it's keeping him strong and healthy, then the rest will come, because clearly, I love the little dude to bits!  But I've never faced a situation where what I had to do made him seem so very UNhappy.  I mean, not for such a long time.  I'm sure those of you who have HUMAN children think I'm an idiot, going on about all of this shit, but the fact remains that I've never had to raise a child, never had to care for anyone who is very sick, and never had to nurse my beloved pet through much of a difficult recovery.  Just like I have not had a child grow into a teenager who tells me she "hates" me, I have never before had a cat who usually licks and purrs and cuddles with me, who heralds my homecoming on a daily basis with happy meows, behave like he FEARS and/or LOATHES me.  And if it isn't personal, then he's simply reacting badly to what he's been through, and he's depressed and lethargic.  Either way, it's bad.  And I've not had a cat before, and I'm never sure what's a "normal" reaction and what should constitute a call to the veterinary clinic.  My vet is very good, very understanding, and they have never made me feel like a pain or like I was being ridiculous about something ... they are just as devoted to animals as the most loving pet-owner, so that's all good.


I can only effing IMAGINE myself as a mom, now more than ever!  I mean, I keep saying oh, I've never before had a cat, so I don't want to be hysterical but also I don't want to miss the signs of anything that's wrong... If I had a child, for the love of God, I'd be doing this every damn day probably!  Oh the humanity.  And I know that in the grand scheme of everything, it's sort of small-minded and un-important and, well, dumb, to sit and be all upset about the cat not "liking" me right now or being "mad" or whatever.  But it's a perfect storm:  I've had a hard year, I've been alone at home with only Dorian for a companion a lot more than any other year, and we've been best mates in a way, you know.  When I've been sick with my migraines, he seems to "get" it, and he lies by my side in bed, patiently waiting, for HOURS sometimes before being fed or getting a clean litterbox, when I'm able to get up and do these things, or to have a friend come from work to help or whatever.  He's a smart little guy, and loyal in a very uncommon way for a cat, and well, I miss him and don't like it when he's avoiding me.  And when I say that, write it, even THINK it, I know I sound stupid, but oh well, it's true. 


Well, I just replenished his un-touched water and checked on him.  The latter consists of my pulling up the bedspread to look at his eyes and poke or prod him so that I can see how he's breathing, THAT he's breathing.  He usually glares at me, edges away to where I can't reach him (I've always found it fascinating the way that a cat can move to a point EXACTLY beyond your reach, no more and no less, so that you reach out to pet him and your fingertips just miss, haha), and then I go back to my couch where I'm watching TV and not doing anything productive, getting so excited when my friends/family call or come over to keep me company.  What a case I am, huh?   I have to say that it was a little bit funny in the night last night; I was sleeping (not in the room where he hides), but I woke up three different times because I heard him meowing... And there he was, in a place outside my door where I could see him, just staring at me and meowing.  But when I got up on my elbow and spoke to him, he darted back to his hidey-hole.  I pictured a cartoon cat soon to be standing up on hind legs over me with a human-size carrier, or a medicine syringe like the one I gave him, or something (a shiny blade?!), laughing maniacally, hovering over me as I slept.  


OH!  He walks!  He just came out a few times to peer at me with a very serious and stoic look!  He came as far as our living room to size everything up.  This is good progress!  And just in time, 'cuz I'm stirring up a batch of warm water with dry kibble for him, which should puff and soak satisfactorily in a few minutes! MMMM.  I'll keep you all posted.  

Separation Anxiety

Yes, I'm BACK!  This is a happy event (coming back to my main blog) for me, as I'm sure it is for my loyal readers reader.

However, I feel all out-of-sorts.  I can't decide whether to take a nap or to try to stay busy ... and I think the latter will lead to mania, with me just running around and starting various projects, which no doubt need to be done but none of which I will finish.  The whole thinking process about all of it just exhausts me, and then I guess I should just take that nap... But I have some new books, and maybe I could read, and I'm just out-of-sorts!

The problem?  My precious baby Dorian-Cat is at the Vet today.  For the whole day.  He's being put under anesthesia and getting his teeth cleaned.  At his recent appointment they found some pretty bad gum irritation and tooth decay starting, and he might have to have one tooth pulled.  I didn't know how prone he was to this problem, but I have resolved to work on teeth-brushing with him.  He will hate it, but it's better than this!!!!  

I had to take my Dori to the vet clinic by 8 a.m. and will not be able to pick him up until 5... I have done this once before, and everything was just fine.  I like my vet, and my cat was great, he did great, and he was sleepy but healthy, everything worked out... But I hate it so much!  It's really obvious to me today how much our lives at home are intertwined!  I got up off the couch and was gingerly putting my feet down, just in case he was lying there, like I always do, because he tends to get under foot.  But then of course, I realized, he's not here!  Then the guys who do lawn work at our apartment complex came by, and they had the loud leaf-blower out, and I jumped up to shut the door, because Dori hates that... but I realized that it won't bother him if he's all the way at the clinic.  I hate this!  It's the weirdest thing ever to be at home with my cat NOT at home.   It's like what?  Why would he be away somewhere?  He doesn't go on play dates or anything, like, without me.  

I do not care if I sound like a poorly-adjusted, co-dependent, over-attached cat mom.  I don't like him to be there, or anywhere, without me.  He only trusts me 100%.  He trusts a few other humans close to that, but believe me, they ain't at the veterinary clinic.  Oh, sadness... Oh, anxiety... I want my baby back!  I must pass the time now, so that soon they will call and the day will be done.  

Hiatus

Hey everyone... I don't want those of you who are loyal readers (there are a few, yes) to keep visiting and finding that I haven't posted .... but I've been having a difficult time getting my words onto paper (so to speak) lately, just a hard time all around.  Also, I'm working on a little side project, another blog of sorts ... and once it's "ready" I will be inviting some of you who have been reading and commenting here to come be members there.  More info on that later...  Anyway, just wanted to post and let you know I'm taking a small hiatus from this one (maybe a week to two weeks), but I certainly WILL be back!  xo

Peace Times Generation

I don't know how to write about today.  It's always interesting to me, especially as the years go by,  to hear where people were when they found out, when they "heard."  I don't remember another event like that, the kind where everybody can talk about how their world stopped and they never forgot that moment in time ... exactly where they were and what they were doing... since I was a child and the space shuttle Challenger crashed.  I was in third grade then, and there had been a plan for us to watch it take off on TV.  TV's in classrooms were not the norm in my school in that time, and when we did have them, it was mostly to watch a tape of something educational.  I don't know that the school even had a proper TV antenna.  I don't remember.  Maybe someone was going to bring the TV into the classroom (because they were always on rolling carts that teachers had to sign up to use and pass around) and show us a recording of the lift-off.  It must have been early in the morning, and I don't know whether we would have been at school.  I just remember that the teacher broke the news to us that there had been a horrible accident, and that the Challenger had not lifted off as planned, that it had exploded.  I believe we were to ask our parents to explain it further to us.  


I mention all of this, because I grew up in a generation that was extremely unique in at least one way.  The kids that I grew up with and I only ever knew peace times.  I mean, there were scuffles and military involvement in different events during my life, yes.  But not like what's going on now.  And not like Vietnam or any war that came before it.  


I should stop here and point out that I do realize a "generation" is defined differently by many different people, and depending on context.  For my purposes, I'm speaking of the kids who came of age, say grew up and became teenagers, with me... Let's say about 7 years time.  My brother is 7 years younger than I am, and his own classmates definitely have their own "generation" with its own music and culture and experiences ... some overlapping mine, but many new and all their own.


I was a Junior in High School when the United States entered into the Gulf War.  Even then,  I don't believe that my generation gained much understanding of what it means to be at war, to go to battle, to face a world wherein bloodshed is being caused by and happening to our own military on a large scale.  If you were someone who had a personal relationship to a soldier or other military member who fought in the Gulf War, that's different.  I understand that having personal involvement changes everything, especially for those who lost someone.  And what I write here is not intended to belittle the efforts of such people in any way; in fact, quite the opposite.   Because if you were like me and so many Americans growing up then, the Gulf War just looked like the United States triumph we were taught to expect.  Even the news was not all that serious (anyone remember the "scud stud," i.e. Arthur Kent?), full of quick justice being dealt by the U.S. before the mighty military came on home to celebrate and laugh at anyone who would challenge our super-power nation.  That is the attitude and confidence, however falsely founded, that I was taught.


I now know that it is a very blessed and unique thing, for which I am full of gratitude, to grow up in such a world, where my country seemed like a safe and mighty fortress in which to live.   My generation never knew fear, not the particular kind that enters into a land and sits with its people night after night, when a nation is at war.


As High School graduation approached for my class and those behind us, many kids announced their plans to enlist in a branch of our military.  Some kids had already entered into ROTC programs.    The woman that I am today is unspeakably  ashamed to tell this, but it's the truth nonetheless:  these kids were usually regarded as the ones who didn't have any other options.  I mean, the general thinking of the day was:  why wouldn't you go to college, or get a job making some money, go get married, etc., after High School?  The only good reason to join our military was because you needed money for college and couldn't get it any other way, or to learn a "trade," as the advertisements promised, because you weren't interested or capable of getting into college or getting a good job right out of school.  When recruiters came to our school and were allowed to set up a table in our cafeteria (but not to approach us ... they could only speak to interested parties who approached them), most kids just ignored them.  If you were seen getting information from the recruiters or talking to them, it was just like this weird stigma... like oh, look, there's a kid who has to go into the military, he/she has no other options.


I did not take notice of this ideology one way or another until years later.  I had my own plans and was very determined to stay on my own "right track" at that time.  No, I was not one of those who made fun of other kids for going to the military or any other reason.  I didn't judge people, as I don't now.  But looking back, I know that the kids were judged.  And I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out why.





To learn about that war and so many other aspects of what our country has done, been like, etc., I've had to educate myself.  I did not learn most of the things I feel are very important about our nation's place in the world until after college, when I took it upon myself to ask questions of relatives and friends, to read all the books and other literature I could find, to know this place where I grew up safe and sheltered.


Today, largely because of what happened on September 11, 2001, I live in a different environment, a different world of ideas and ideals.  Now I have lived to see the boys who are of age voice their opinions on what they would do should another draft be put into effect.  Now I have known grown men (and a few women), my former classmates and my friends, who have enlisted.  Now I have communicated with guys from my neighborhood, my generation, all over the world, some who have been sent into battle and some who have not.  Now I'm living in the world that most people have always lived in, the one in which wars break out, the one in which war changes everything, the one in which people go away to serve those of us living here at home, and sometimes they don't come back.  I am sobered and humbled and matured by these experiences and this knowledge.  I have changed along with the world in which I live, along with my country.   I, like everyone else, changed on that September day, for always.


If you are among the many people from all over the world who lost someone on September 11, God bless you.  My prayers and thoughts are always with you, not lessened at all by the time that has passed.  I will not be one who forgets that day.


If you or your loved ones are fighting for us, or stationed and trained anywhere in the world prepared to do so, my heart and thoughts are with you.   I pray that God will bless you and keep you and bring you back home to peace times again.  And I thank you for serving this country that I love.