Sunday, September 3, 2017

Sunday

Don't recall where I was or what I was doing when President Kennedy was killed. I mention this because most people of my age with whom I'm acquainted around the world, do remember, in great and often rather boring detail. Exactly what they were doing, why they were doing it, and so on. Their recall almost reverential. Same with September 11th 2001, no idea what I was doing or why I was doing it.

Maybe if I could remember where I was or what I was doing at these most dramatic points in the tapestry, my world would be fuller. I'd have recognizable and shared heroes, I'd know what my favorite color was and who my favorite Poet was, I'd get worked up about the difference between the two kinds of Marmite, and there's a whole list of important things that I apparently should do better than pretend to care about. Most likely a character flaw on my part?

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