The Big Days

There seems to be a bizarre pattern emerging in my life. Whenever the nation is having a Big Day, I am having one too, for totally unrelated reasons.

As you know, the U.S. of A. is about to inaugurate our first African-American President. It is beyond exciting. But half an hour ago, it occurred to me that my body is quite possibly going to want to sleep through it, because by then, I will be so sleep-deprived from prepping my sweetie for the Big Day he's having on Tuesday and hosting a 10-hour documentary marathon on Monday in celebration of MLK Day, that I might not wake up in time.

Except that I will, because this is more important than sleep.

September 11th, 2001, was the day I arrived in my new hometown. I heard about what had happened over a walkie-talkie from my sister who was driving my car, while I drove a moving truck. I didn't believe her at first. But gradually, it became clear, even to those of us on the road, what had happened.

But the weird thing about that is that I didn't have TV when I moved here. So I didn't see the video footage of the attacks that day. Or that week. Or for a really long time, in fact. I think I have seen it now, though I can't remember where or why. Obviously, it was anti-climatic. I had seen photographs, and from hearing other people talk about it, you imagine the pictures moving. This was another instance of national Big Days and personal Big Days coinciding in strange ways. But quite frankly, I was sort of glad not to have seen the footage over and over like most people did.

However, I am not interested in a similar approach to this week's Big Day (either one of them! - Go, Sharon!). I still don't have TV, but I'm sure I can find a way to be in touch this time. Fear I don't mind missing, but the re-birth of hope, that's another story.

But those of you out there who know what I'm talking about, while you're saying your prayers of thanks and hope, throw in another one for us. Our Big Day is Tuesday too, and we really need this to happen.