A Return. Ironic.

TLBR goes all Lazarus on you - rising from the dead - on the day the world learned that one of its historically most evil denizens was shot dead.

Excuse my rambling nonsense here, because over a 15 minute span this morning, I've gone from "America, Shampoo YEAH!" to sobbing over my Honey Nut Cheerios, to laughing at the Osama bin Hiding joke from the "Black Gallagher" skit from the Chappelle's Show. 

No, I'm not menopausal.

Without getting all crappy metaphorical on you, yes, the world has changed quite a bit in the last decade or so.  And not to get tedious and painfully trite, but when you think of 9/10/01 to yesterday's events - a guy who happened to be taking some personal downtime live-tweeted the invasion. 

When I got the news this a.m. by listening to Dennis & Callahan, I went directly to Twitter and was greeted by photos of college students on campuses all across the country, storming the Quad in jubilation.

Those college kids were, maybe, nine or 10 years old on 9/11/01.  They may not have been born on 2/26/93 - the date of the first attempt to bomb the World Trade Center towers.

Regardless, the news of the death of Osama bin Laden brought back horrible, horrible memories of a singular day and several numb weeks to follow. 

Horrible memories, things I still can't handle.  Things I'll never forget.  Things that people will never know.

I love airshows - particularly the Navy's Blue Angels - but I still have trouble hearing the screech and roar of an F-16.  It was the soundtrack of the skies in the NYC metro area after 9/11.  It was both reassuring and disconcerting at the same time.  It was the introduction of the new American Renaissance - the Life of Fear - that we were all so horribly introduced to that morning.

In the summer of 2009, my fiancee and I attended a wedding in NYC and stayed at the Millennium Hilton.  Our luxury room opened up to a front-row view of the Ground Zero construction site. 

I didn't want to look at first.  Then I couldn't stop looking.  I didn't want to cry.  Then I couldn't stop the tears. 

I didn't want to be sad.  So I didn't stop smiling.  I find strength in Ground Zero, the resiliency of the citizens of New York City, the survivors, the widows, the families and friends of the fallen.  When I get the opportunity to visit NYC, I make every effort to get down to lower Manhattan and pay tribute in my own personal way.

Today's news brings back all of those sights, sounds, and smells - crippling at the time.  I don't like to think back that that day.  But I can't ever forget.

A lot of innocent people died that day.  Too many U.S. Soldiers have died in the days to follow.  One bullet in one guy's head doesn't cure any of that.

But it's a good start.  ¶ 10:34 AM