Category: Weekend Whirl

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted, but I’ve been writing a lot of cards, status updates, and emails. Does that count? Ok, maybe not. I’m also reading a lot, as ever, and here’s my latest weekend whirl for you:

Making it in America by Adam Davidson

I stumbled across this article via my weekly email from longform.org… and just had to read it after I saw the opening image, snapped by Dean Kaufman. Apparently Rosie the Riveter lives on in the twenty-first century, but unfortunately there’s a complicated economic, political and social calculus around her endangered existence. An interesting article set partly in South Carolina, which is getting a lot of attention tonight because of the presidential primary. Will we forget the Palmetto State again tomorrow?

At Melody Record Shop, sadness and a tinge of guilt as an era ends by Jessica Goldstein

Years ago, my second job was in a retail chain record store. I learned a lot about music just working there, but still probably nothing compared to Jack and Suzy Menase, who have literally done nothing else with their whole lives. I’d say they’ve done a whole lot of good by creating a home for music lovers. And their store closure is another sign of changing times…

Joe Paterno’s first interview since the Penn State-Sandusky scandal by Sally Jenkins

Things are improving in some areas, and recognizing the problem of sexual molestation is one. We’ve come a long way in the past few years, but not yet far enough. I believe that we are all mandated reporters. That said, I don’t think we can know what really happened or judge others faced with the horrorific fact of a sexual predator in their midst. Joe Paterno is gravely ill and will pass beyond the cares of this tired earth long before the town of State College recovers from its terrible awakening. His mark on Penn State will never be erased, though there will always be an asterisk next to his name — *fired midseason for failure to inform legal authorities and fully protect children. Caught between the decade of his birth when such things could not be discussed, and today’s glaring hot demands for transparency, accountability and justice, there is no doubt that he stumbled. But can we grant him some dignity and forgiveness?

Practice has always bored me, ever since piano lessons so many years ago. I like mastery, but I’m not that into repetition. It bores me and I have to convince myself that practice is worthwhile. But it is repetition that increases our skill at any given pursuit and that makes it powerful.

Poets and writers sometimes use repetition deliberately, skillfully, carefully to increase the dramatic effect of what they’re saying. Often the media uses it like a bludgeon, smashing whatever power it has and dulling our senses instead of sharpening them. The recent wall-to-wall coverage of the 10th anniversary of 9/11 exemplifies that and though I avoided much of it since I don’t own a tv, there were a few stories that stood out.

Many of the stories about the Pentagon crash were new to me, since we just moved here a few months ago and the fate of the Twin Towers dominated so much of the national coverage. We noticed how visceral the events of 9/11 remain for people who lived through it while the rest of us tuned in from afar.

What struck me about the stories below is the perseverance of each person. It takes determination and sometimes daunting daily tasks to survive the unspeakable and restore life from mere existence back into art. It takes love, and patience, and kindness.

Woman Who Lost Parents on 9/11 Will Always Wonder: Why?

by Dan Zak, Washington Post, September 8, 2011

Life can stop at any second, she says, so it is precious. Think about how you should lead your life now.She sets the kitchen table with chopsticks, nudging each pair into parallel formation.She has come to one other conclusion: She will never have peace. Whatever’s truly in her heart cannot be identified, cannot be put under a microscope, cannot be diagnosed, studied, cured.

But focus on the pathology of life — the “Why?” — and it can kill you. So you pull back. You zoom out as far as you can, and a single day becomes a week becomes a month becomes a year becomes a decade.

Little Noticed or Known, They Bear Scars of That Day

by Eric Moskowitz, Boston Globe, September 6, 2011

They are the rarely noticed casualties of the terrorist attacks: the security guard, the ticket agent, the baggage handler on the ramp. They made it home that night, but with images they couldn’t shake, a pain uncomfortable to voice. They can’t believe it has been 10 years. They can’t believe it has only been 10 years.

 

9/11 Widow Still Trying to Find Her New Normal

by Eli Saslow, Washington Post, September 2, 2011

It was a Monday morning 10 years later, and they had regained control…

It was a Monday morning 10 years later, and they were still falling apart.

 

A Moment of Silence

by Steve Friedman, Runner’s World, August 2006 via Longreads

“What do I think about?” he says. “God, just about everything. Am I on target for my marathon goal? How am I going to pay my daughters’ college tuition? Do I have good retirement plans?”Some days–one of life’s mysteries–he thinks of that terrible morning five years ago.