Nine Eleven

I originally thought of tweeting this, but there are times when 140 characters are not even close.

It’s about the events that occurred in Tuesday September the 11^th, 1979. A beautiful boy that would eventually be known as teh 201d was born that glorious day. I’m positively sure many people were also born that day and even more followed the next year, and the years after just like many will be born next Friday. I attribute this to it being nine months after the first week of December, when couples around the northern hemisphere find the lowered temperatures most opportune for cuddling.

Of course, that would only be important if you were me, which you’re not (because, clearly you are you). Nevertheless, there are also several momentous events linked to this date, for example, according to Wikipedia; Stephen Foster's well-known song, Oh! Susanna was first performed at a saloon in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in September 11, 1847. Is that neat or what? But let’s assume, for a moment, that you actually care about me. Let’s say you know me, even.

Why on earth would anyone approach me upon this date, with a comment about how my birthday is on “nine eleven?” I can’t possibly think of any reason for this except for being an evil, uncaring jerk… or perhaps… HA! That’s it! My friends and family are not evil; they just don’t realize the implications of such comments! Okay, then, what I’ll do is I will compile a list of phrases you “might as well say” (that way I won’t have to spend my 31st birthday hiding from the people I love)!

Things you might as well say:

• I have brought you all the medicines I don’t need anymore for your birthday. Take them all with a tall glass of water and die quietly.
• Wanna come over and burn some Qur’ans?
• Why aren’t you watching the 24 hour special on TV today, you jerk?
• The attacks did not happen on your 22^nd birthday; you were born 22 years before the attacks, you evil terrorist!
• Aren't you ashamed of having your birthday today?
• Don’t you even care about the people who died?
• Are you a terrorist?
• Wanna come over and burn some Bibles?
• What is wrong with you?
• Admit it; you are happy all these people died!
• Wanna come over and burn some people?
• I hate you.
• I poisoned your cake. You’re welcome.
• Yo 201d, I'm really happy for you, I’m ‘a let you finish your birthday cake. But 9/11 is one of the worst days of all time! OF ALL TIME!

Every year on my birthday I can’t help remembering that day. I remember it like it was today. I would forget my anniversary or my kids’ birthdays if they were not recurring events in my calendar, and I may get their baby pictures mixed up, but this one I can’t forget. It was my 22^nd birthday and I had taken the day off from work. I spent the whole day glued to the TV, shocked, hoping things would turn out alright and watching things get worse and worse. I called everyone I knew. I was lucky nobody I knew was there.

I don’t expect people to stop caring, but I would really, really like people to stop bringing me down in a day that’s already sad. It’s sad not only because of the memories, but because of the blatant bigotry that is launched year after year that only seems to worsen with time. I have been cursed by this even though I had nothing to do with it. One thing is not related to the other. There are 8,036 days and about 2,000 miles between one and the other. Please consider this. That would be the best birthday gift EVER.