Ok, I'll go first.
Where I was
As you might expect, on a football Saturday I spent my daylight hours in and around Ohio Stadium for the game with Miami.
Buckeye Nation is the heart of the Heartland and we have our priorities. Before the teams strapped on their helmets and drew first blood, we paid reverent tribute to the occasion.
The Ohio State University Marching Band unfurled a big American flag on the field and played "America." After a moment of silence -- observed by all but the classless and poorly self-policed Miami fans, who wouldn't shut up -- the National Anthem was performed by Columbus' own Rascal Flatts.
It was a stirring rendition and a significant break from tradition. As I said here two-and-a-half years ago, when it comes to the "Star Spangled Banner" I have a problem with performances:
"The national anthem is our national anthem -- it should be joined and sung by The People, not performed for The People. The People should celebrate -- insist on celebrating -- the privilege of honoring our freedom in unison."I love Rascal Flatts and they did a spectacular job, but let's not make a habit of this, ok?
Toward the end of the first half, the public-address announcer directed our attention to the South end zone and introduced first-responders from throughout Ohio, men and women who serve us every day. Then, before TBDBITL took the field for its halftime show, another group was honored -- FDNY firefighters and paramedics, NYPD officers and other first-responders who bear the physical and emotional scars of Ground Zero.
Last to be introduced: David and Peggy Beamer, parents of the late Todd Beamer. Todd spoke the words, "Let's roll!" on United Flight 93 that crashed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania on 9/11.
More than 105,000, tears dimming our eyes, roared for our heroes.
Mrs. KintlaLake and I left the stadium at that point, piled into the truck and drove 130 miles northeast for my 35th high-school reunion. It was our second such trip in 24 hours -- we'd joined a smaller group of my classmates on Friday night for a tailgate party.
This wasn't any sort of 9/11 commemoration, certainly, simply a gathering of aging men and women who remember being children together. We reacquainted and reminisced, laughed and cried, poked and prodded and pretended we aren't getting older.
We're the sons and daughters of dirt farmers, steel workers, meat cutters and firefighters, so we didn't reunite in a fancy hotel ballroom for a seven-course gourmet meal. We came together in a picnic pavilion (a big garage, really) to feast on fried chicken, take-out pizza, grocery-store cookies and cheap beer in 12-ounce cans.
Returning to my old stompin' grounds and seeing the faces of childhood friends -- coming home -- was the right thing to do, putting a perfect cap on my September 11th.
Where I wasn't
I didn't travel to Anchorage, Alaska for Sarah Palin's fundraiser featuring her "buddy" Glenn Beck.
Maybe you think it's ok for public figures to exploit 9/11 to line their pockets -- I don't. The only people who deserve less respect than Palin and Beck are the simple-minded groupies who paid a minimum of $73.75 -- that's $3.75 more than a ticket for OSU-Miami, if you're keeping score at home -- and as much as $225 to see the carnival act in-person.
They're the same people who see these clowns as "thought leaders." I have a question, though -- is "thought leader" the same thing as "attention whore"?
Of course not -- the latter is closer to the truth. And after their self-serving Anchorage gig, maybe we should simplify matters and just call Palin and Beck what they are...
