2004-03-29

* * * Stolen from Janet. Janet, is it okay to link you? Do I Remember 1. When John F. Kennedy was shot (Nov. 22, 1963) Nope, I was 4 1/2 years away from being born. 2. When Mt. St. Helens blew (May 18, 1980) Only vaguely – I remember being surprised that it could happen. 3. When the space shuttle Challenger exploded (January 28, 1986) Definitely. I was sitting in my english class (it was my senior year) before class started, and my teacher came in and said “Did anyone hear something about the space shuttle exploding?” We hadn’t, and he ended up going to the library and signing out a TV so we could watch the news. The drama queen sitting in front of me had once upon a time gone to the school where Christa McAuliffe taught – she didn’t know her, had never met her, but had gone to the school where she taught – and was in hysterics. 4. When the 7.1 earthquake hit San Francisco (October 17, 1989) I remember a guy who was on the bridge when it started falling being interviewed by Dan Rather. Dan kept pressing the guy – who was pretty freaked out still – for details. The guy said something like “There were dead people everywhere…” Dan kept pushing and pushing, and finally the guy snapped “I saw someone’s brain pulsating out the top of their head.” Dan stopped pushing. (And suddenly I’m wondering whether I’m remembering the right earthquake…) 5. When the Berlin Wall fell (November 9, 1989) I was amazed – I never thought it would happen in my lifetime. I held the spud – who was only about 9 months old – up to the TV and said “This is history.” 6. When the Gulf War began (January 16, 1991) I was supposed to go to class (I was taking classes at New Hampshire College on the navy base in Brunswick), but I stayed at home and watched the news. The spud was 2 1/2 years old and playing in front of TV, and I said to her “We’re at war.” I was worried to death that my then-husband would have to go to the Gulf (he was in the Navy). He never did, but his ship headed that way a few times. 7. When OJ Simpson was chased in his White Bronco (June 17, 1994) Debbie and I were at her friend’s house out in the country. We were all shit-faced, when her friend’s husband came out and told us about it. We all went inside and watched it on the TV, but I was so drunk I had no clue what the hell was going on. Luckily, they replayed it 100,000 more times over the course of the next two days, so I don’t feel like I missed anything. 8. When the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City was bombed (April 19, 1995) Definitely. I remember sitting on my couch watching the footage thinking “What the hell happened?” 9. When Princess Di was killed (August 31, 1997) Oh, how I loved Princess Di. It was a Sunday morning, I walked out into the dining room (we lived in an apartment at the time) and looked to see what was on the front of the Sunday paper. I said “Oh, no!”, and Fred came to see what was going on. We turned on the TV and flipped around the news channels. You better believe I cried during her funeral. 10. When Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold opened fire on their classmates at Columbine High School (April 20, 1999) I was home from work reading, when Fred told me to turn the TV on and tell him what was going on. It was horrifying, to say the least. 11. When Bush was first announced President (November 7, 2000) Noooooot really. 12. When the 6.8 earthquake hit Nisqually, WA (February 28, 2001) God, this is awful. I don’t remember at all! 13. When terrorists destroyed the World Trade Center (September 11, 2001) Of course. I was sitting in front of the computer putting off exercising when Fred called and told me to turn on CNN. “What are they showing?” he asked. We talked for a few minutes and he said at one point “This is going to get some air traffic controller in the deepest shit possible”, and while he was on the phone, the second plane hit. “I think another plane hit,” I said. “Are we at war?”

* * * The spud called and talked to my parents last night (we talk to them every Sunday), and when she was done, she handed the phone to me. “I asked her why she didn’t call last week,” my mother reported. “And she said ‘You could have called me!’ And I thought, she certainly DOES sound like her MOTHER and her AUNT!” Now, I ask you. My mother COULD have picked up the phone and called, couldn’t she? I mean, it’s TRUE. The spud is in a fine state of anxiety, because my mother told her to find her bathing suits from last year and find out what size they are, because my mother’s ready to buy her some new suits for this year. The spud, after handing the phone to me, went and looked for her bathing suits, which she could not find. She came back and stood in the doorway and stared intently at me until I said to my mother, “Hold on. What?” “Do you know where my bathing suits are?” the spud said. “Because grammy wants to know what size they are.” “I imagine they’d be in your bureau THINGY,” I said. “They’re not,” the spud said. “I’M ON THE PHONE,” I said, and she flounced off in a snit. Now, how the fuck would I know where her bathing suits are? I don’t go in her room (except during the summer while she’s gone, when I toss out a buttload of crap she never misses), and I haven’t been in charge of her clothes since she started doing her own laundry two or three years ago. I haven’t got a clue what she’s GOT for clothes, and I’m happy that way. If she needs socks or underwear, she says “I need socks. I need underwear.”, and we go to the store and buy what she needs. If something that requires her dressing up comes along, we discuss what she might wear. Otherwise, her clothes are her problem. After she flounced around for the rest of the evening, looking in her bureau, in her closet, in the boxes of crap she boxed up and shoved in the guest bedroom, I finally said “Tell Grammy WE will take care of getting you some bathing suits.” I mean, I’ll measure her, I’ll check the size chart at Land’s End, and I’ll let her pick the kind of bathing suit she likes. Voila. What, you thought I was going to take her shopping for bathing suits? Silly, silly readers. * * * A few weeks ago, Fred bought a bunch of yellow smiley-face balloons filled with helium at the Dollar Store. Naturally, the Bean had to show the balloon just who the boss was. (No, we didn’t let him swallow any ribbon, and when the balloons started sinking toward the floor, we tossed them.) Such a pretty boy. Looks like such a good boy, doesn’t he? Let me tell you, EVERY time we touched him this weekend, he popped a little throbbing kitty erection and we had to scream and run away. Gah.]]>