On September 11, 2001 I was sleeping in my old childhood bed, back in my dad's house; fresh off a nasty separation from my ex-wife. I figured it couldn't really get much worse than being 32 years old and having to sleep in your old bedroom with the 70's Farrah Fawcett poster still on the wall. That is, until I was awakened by my friend who was repainting my dad's decrepit old kitchen. I remember it like it was yesterday. He screamed up the stairs to me, "Get down here; we're under attack!"
Those words rattled me into a state of consciousness in a way I'd never experienced. I guess I can only relate it to what a sleeping soldier in a foxhole must experience when the sound of an exploding mortar jars his brain. Once awake, I ran downstairs and, as my blurry vision focused on the old-style box T.V. set in my dad's living room, I was stunned to see the first World Trade Center tower collapsing into a heap of rubble. It was a humbling experience to realize how many people just perished in the blink of an eye. To say I was stunned would be painting a very superficial picture. The reality was bleaker; I was paralyzed with uncertainty, unable to move even a single muscle in my 300lb body. How could I be so big and strong and yet feel so helpless?
What happens now? . . . was all I could think or imagine? What's the meaning of this? Is the world's #1 superpower really this vulnerable? I was waiting for someone to come on T.V. and tell us everything was gonna be okay; that they had the enemy in a holding cell somewhere, and that this would never happen again. What we all didn't know at the time was that this tragic event would be the catalyst that ignited a Brave New World of uncertainty in American safety and security. No longer were we immune or insulated from all the atrocities that befell the rest of the planet. We the People were being attacked on American soil!
10 years later, airport travel has become almost unbearable. We now have to deal with yellow, orange, and red alerts. Crippled old ladies are strip-searched when going through security checkpoints. And a measly bottle of Poland Springs water in your carry-on bag is as serious an offense as a stick of dynamite up your ass.
Even to this day I keep asking myself; when will I awaken from this horrible nightmare? It must be one of my tidal wave or nuclear explosion anxiety dreams that I typically experience when I’m traveling or stressed out a lot. Right? Wrong! The truth of the matter is, nearly 3000 people died on September 11, 2001 and their death was a very caustic message to the world that nothing in life is a certainty. We must never again take for granted what we have. Likewise, we must never dwell on what we perceive to be lacking because, chances are, someone else is way worse off than we are.
On this day, September 11, 2011, I feel fortunate to be alive and healthy; still doing what I love. . . getting paid to lift weights and talk about what makes bodybuilding the greatest sport in the world.
