9/11

The Berlin Wall fell a few months after I was born. The Soviet Union collapsed when I was still a toddler.

Growing up in the '90s, you had an overwhelming sense that history had ended. Not completely, of course. There were lots of little wars, in little countries no one cared about. Jim Lehrer kept on talking about Bosnia for some reason. And something called the Internet happened at some point.

But face it: life was good. The cosmic struggle over the fate of the world had ended. On September 11, 1990, as the first Gulf War loomed, the first President Bush famously set the tone for the next decade:

Out of these troubled times, our fifth objective -- a new world order -- can emerge: a new era -- freer from the threat of terror, stronger in the pursuit of justice, and more secure in the quest for peace. An era in which the nations of the world, East and West, North and South, can prosper and live in harmony.

In a matter of months, the United States brought one of the largest military forces in the world to its knees. And a decade later, it really did seem like a new world. America ruled, computers were everywhere, and the Furby promised to delight children of all ages with its ability to mimic human speech.

As my family and friends rang in the start of a new millennium, I didn't know what the future would hold. But as I stood in the warmth of the Hawaiian winter, I knew my world would be better and safer than the world my parents and grandparents had grown up in.

On the night of September 10th, 2001, there was a scheduled power outage in our neighborhood. My family decided to turn the event into a kind of family bonding experience. We were all going to sleep together in the living room. Like a sleepover, but without the friends, or fun. Or electricity.

When I woke up the next morning, the power was back on. Almost everyone had made their way back to their own rooms. I drowsily rolled off my sofa bed and wandered into the hallway. I could hear the TV on in my parents' room.

I walked in, and saw a skyscraper in New York collapsing. Another was on fire.

I hadn't seen enough movies to immediately recognize the Twin Towers, but I knew a lot of Americans were dying, and things were about to change.

History was starting again.

It felt like we were stuck in front of the television for days, waiting for things to make sense. When President Bush gave his address to the nation, I felt more proud of my country that I ever had before, and probably ever will.

(A lot of people wonder how Bush managed to sneak into a second term. I think it's because 62 million people didn't forget that speech.)

Like most Americans, I felt everything that day. Terror. Sadness. Anger. But that night, I wrote a typically matter-of-fact entry in my journal:

September 11, 2001, a date that shall live in infamy. Today, terrorists completely destroyed the world trade center twin towers, and damaged the pentagon. They did so by highjacking 4 airliners, and crashing into their targets. One plane crashed in a field and did no damage. The death toll is not yet confirmed.

A month later, I wrote a follow up, with the appropriate heading "America Strikes Back:"

Shortly after the attacks on the WTC it was confirmed that the hijackers were members of Al-Qaeda, a terrorist organization headed by Osama Bin Laden. This organization has been credited with the bombing of the USS Cole. The organization, which is based in Afghanistan, has been tolerated and supported by Afghanistan's Taliban regime. In a speech, president George W. Bush called the terrorist attacks "an act of war" and condemned the Taliban regime.

On Sunday, October 7, 2001, the U.S began launching air strikes on Afghanistan.

Today, America is drowning in debt, and divided. We're still fighting in Afghanistan. The President tells us that we're done fighting in Iraq -- but the 50,000 troops that remain tell a different story. We have no leaders. Liberals are stabbing each other in the back, while conservatives fawn over a self-proclaimed rodeo clown and an unemployed hockey mom.

When the masses celebrated the start of the new millennium on January 1, 2000, smart people scoffed. They knew that the 21st century wouldn't really start until 2001.

They were right.

Get On The Joe Train!

American rail transit hasn't been doing so well for the past four decades or so. Despite heavy federal subsidies, ridership on Amtrak is still pathetically low by international standards. Some cynics have even questioned the merit of keeping the ailing passenger rail network on life support.

Fortunately, Amtrak has a friend in high places. Since the day he landed in office, Vice President and Chief Train Enthusiast Joe Biden has become the official champion of Amtrak. And a few days ago, in the digital pages of the Huffington Post, Biden delivered a fresh argument in favor of keeping Amtrak around for future generations to enjoy (and pay for):

When I took the train every night--and I still do whenever possible--I always noticed the lights on in the houses flickering in the passing neighborhoods, dotting the landscape speeding by my window. Moms and dads were at their kitchen table, talking after they put their kids to bed. Like Americans everywhere, they were asking questions as profound as they are ordinary: Should Mom move in with us now that Dad is gone? How are we going to pay the heating bills? Did you hear the company may be cutting our health care? Now that we owe more on the house than it's worth, how are we going to send the kids to college? How are we going be able to retire?

I would look out the window and hear their questions, feel their pain. And every time I made that trip, it would inspire me to get up the next day, head back down to Washington, and give them the answers they're looking for. Those moments looking out the window and seeing the lights on, they told me things that the briefing folders in front of me never could.

Residents of the Wilmington-DC corridor must sleep soundly at night with the knowledge that Joe Biden is gazing lovingly into their windows, feeling their pain. If only more Americans would ditch their four-wheeled monstrosities and choose rail transit. Trains alone have the power to inspire the children of today to become the Joe Bidens of tomorrow.

Of course, there is a semi-serious argument embedded in Biden's nostalgic trip down the tracks. Namely, that rail transit is "a powerful and indispensable way to carry us all into a leaner, cleaner, greener 21st century." To prove his point, Biden notes the importance of rail transit in a densely populated stretch of the East Coast:

Consider that if you shut down Amtrak's Northeast Corridor, it is estimated that to compensate for the loss, you'd have to add seven new lanes of highway to Interstate 95. When you consider that it costs an average of $30 million for one linear mile of one lane of highway, you see what a sound investment rail travel is. And that's before you factor in the environmental benefits of keeping millions and millions of cars off the road.

While this is certainly true, it's also true that the majority of Amtrak passengers are concentrated along the Northeast Corridor. In almost every other part of the country, rail travel simply isn't a part of everyday life. Americans love their cars, regardless of whether they're going five blocks down the street or across the country on an epic journey to find themselves. There's a reason why you don't see a whole lot of teen train-trip movies.

On paper, rail transit has benefits. But that doesn't mean squat unless people actually use it. Fortunately, with a spokesman like Joe Biden, it's only a matter of time before good Americans realize the error of their ways and embrace the true power of the train.

Open Letters To Random Public Figures At The Dawn Of A New Year, 2009 Edition.

Dear Barack Obama,

Millions of starry-eyed Americans voted for you in '08. Some of them were impressed with your fancy talk. Others liked the fact that you weren't George W. Bush. But mainly they just thought you would grow a beard in office.

Alas, a year has gone by, and your countenance is as hairless as one of those hideous dogs you sometimes see in books on freakish animals. If you really want to honor the legacy of Abraham Lincoln, put your face where your mouth is.

There's still time. Time to put facial hair back on the presidential map. Time to inspire a new generation to aspire to bearded greatness. It's all within your grasp.

Just do it.

Dear Tiger Woods,

You are probably still an excellent golfer. I can respect that. In fact, there are many things about you we can all respect. Like your ability to golf! But I already mentioned that. Also, you have lots of money. Many people would enjoy having as much money as you have. You could buy the best Lego set ever! Twice!

So, cheer up. Things can always be worse than they are. You are not dead or homeless, which is more than I can say about any number of dead or homeless people. And when was the last time a bear attacked you? A bear attack is the ultimate bad thing that can happen to someone -- and it hasn't even happened to you.

People are like ugly goldfish. With time, they'll forget all of your personal transgressions. Just ask that one guy.

Dear Sarah Palin,

Please, no. No.

NO.

Dear Glenn Beck,

I remember the good times. You were like the hilarious uncle that everyone wanted to hug with their laughter. Then, Obama came, and something changed. Now you're more like the scary uncle who frightens the children with racist conspiracy theories.

We want the old Glenn back.

You can start by simply calming down. If Obama is destroying America, why is food still so delicious? It just doesn't add up. Embrace life, and weep no more.

Dear Pixar,

You are awesome. But in these times of austerity and sacrifice, don't you think it's time to share the awesome?

Think about it: if you merely donated 5% of your awesome to lesser movie studios, you could raise Hollywood's total awesome quotient (TAQ) by 500%.

This is actual math.

Dear Jim Lehrer,

It's the beginning of a new decade. And you remain on TV. That's something to think about.

Fifty years ago, no one would have imagined that a Muppet could become one of the longest-running news anchors in America. But despite your stiff, mechanical movements, and crudely designed, white-less eyes, you've managed to outlast your human competition.

It's true that no one under, over, or at the age of 20 watches you anymore. But compared to the rest of the Muppets, you've done very well for yourself. The direct-to-video movies? That Christmas Special? Those terrible commercials? The short-lived association with Long John Silver's? Oy.

So, thank you. Thank you for showing the children of America that you don't need a beating heart to touch the heart of a nation.