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Someone else couldn't say it, far more eloquently than I couldn't. The cover of the New Yorker dated today, September 11, 2006 (the effect, from their website, is equally fabulous, reflecting the actual combination of the almost-blank cover with the remainder hitting you when opening the gatefold):
If you remember Phillipe Petit's historic crossing between the Towers, it makes the image all the more meaningful. My wife and I were up there the winter before we were married, 12 years after his crossing, and I remember seeing the "autograph" he scarred into one of the cooling fan ducts on the top of one of the Towers.
The title of this week's cover: "Soaring Spirit." Like the daring of the acrobat 32 years before, it doesn't look down at what isn't there but looks across and around to all that is. I much prefer that attitude to getting my knickers in a twist about who hates America and why we have to keel them.
This man didn't fall, but my prayers will always be with everyone who did.
----
Eleanor and I spent the morning delivering the truckload of produce, gleaned over the weekend, to six different human service agencies in and around downtown Buffalo. Everyone was appreciative and helpful. It seemed a fitting way to spend part of this day- helping and being helped instead of hurting in either sense of that word.
If you remember Phillipe Petit's historic crossing between the Towers, it makes the image all the more meaningful. My wife and I were up there the winter before we were married, 12 years after his crossing, and I remember seeing the "autograph" he scarred into one of the cooling fan ducts on the top of one of the Towers.
The title of this week's cover: "Soaring Spirit." Like the daring of the acrobat 32 years before, it doesn't look down at what isn't there but looks across and around to all that is. I much prefer that attitude to getting my knickers in a twist about who hates America and why we have to keel them.
This man didn't fall, but my prayers will always be with everyone who did.
----
Eleanor and I spent the morning delivering the truckload of produce, gleaned over the weekend, to six different human service agencies in and around downtown Buffalo. Everyone was appreciative and helpful. It seemed a fitting way to spend part of this day- helping and being helped instead of hurting in either sense of that word.
