Late Night Karaoke

Then I read this, posted by someone we all knew lived close by. Among other things, I think about it when I hear some wing-nut claim some divine right to hate muslims.

Then there are so many who just like being a part of something and this is something big. That says much about how little there is out there that is worth "being a part of"-- that 9/11 came along and filled a void.

The nite of 9/11 I snuck down near Ground Zero to "participate", which isn't identical to the noble ideal of "volunteering".

And in the days afterward, with my home inside the sealed-off area-- the neighborhood felt like a proud club with exclusive membership. Again, too bad it took 9/11 for that sense of community. Everybody sheepishly admitted they liked having barricades keep the streets quiet and empty of traffic, and 'outsiders' out.

I wanted to mention that-- when I snuck down near ground zero on 9/11-- I spoke to various people whose reactions varied. Their reactions are relevant to this discussion of humor.

There was a middle aged black man & his white wife & asian neighbor-- who sat on their stoop with a flashlight in the blackout. They were the only ones who didn't leave their big apartment complex and were sorta guarding it. At first I got the humorless flashlight-in-the-eyes and "Who Goes There!?"-- but when they sized me up as a neighbor, they were pretty chatty and joked about all the food going bad in everybody's fridges.

Closer in, there were cops at intersections playing the humorless "all business" role. I used to work for NYPD, so usually I can get those guys to thaw & relax. But not that nite.

At the empty makeshift hospital, all the ambulance drivers stood idle since there were no survivors arriving.  They told crass "seen it all jokes" about swan diving off the upper floors.  I figured that I'd gauged the mood of everybody down there, then. But I was wrong. Because the ambulance guys (and the tough cops) were a step-removed from the 'action'.

I knew this when I saw the actual firemen coming out for a break after all those hours-- they didn't joke, they didn't talk, they didn't act tough either.  They were just big-eyed and dusty and moved really slowly and deliberately and silently. It was like everything petty and day-to-day had been stripped-away from them. All the individual head-chatter that makes us individuals was burned-off like when a medical instrument is purified with flame.

I tried to make small-talk with one and immediately realized my mistake. It was like trying to talk to a tree.

Afterward, I found it very hard to listen to the shallow chatter of television-- as the local news dorks' very existence felt inappropriate to the situation.

And since then, a lot of the attempts at solemnity have sounded false to me also-- having witnessed the real thing.

I'm trying to avoid pious BS in this post myself.

I don't exactly have a specific point to make about humor here-- except that I appreciate that the internet is typed not spoken so no matter what we say, it's silent.

I wanted to add that, other than the quiet firemen, the only other people near ground zero who seemed able to muster a reaction that was at-all appropriate were: 1. a homeless guy and 2. an illegal immigrant-type who refused to abandon his vending cart laden with snack food and foam Statue of Liberty Crowns (It was 1 in the morning and they were both still down there.)

Both of them are at the very bottom of society, and both live lives invisible to most eyes-- despite being right in front of us all the time. When everybody else was either dead, fled, or paying full-attention to the disaster-- those 2 remained like statues.  By not varying their routines one bit, they kept their dignity.

The 3rd person I wanted to tell you about, was a 5 or 6 year old girl I met a few days after the attack.  She came to work with her dad, and was passing the time by throwing a paper airplane at me, while I stood at a counter.  In her game, I was the building.

Obviously this game and her laughter would be offensive, except she had no comprehension of the implications.

She definitely was a sign that life goes on. She put things in perspective.