I've Been Living
    Steve Frederick
In the past week I've seen the most horrific terrorist attack in modern history and its aftermath. I've processed pages of newspaper coverage and the reactions of dozens of my neighbors. I've witnessed on-line, with a sense of revulsion, a peculiar brand of soft-headed we-had-it-coming rationalization that says that because of something that Henry Kissinger said 30 years ago or something the Israelis did in response to something the Palestinians did that 5,000 working American people deserved to die. It's even stupider than the God's-on-our-side flag-waving horseshit from the other side, and doesn't even deserve the time that better people have spent refuting it.

I care about all this. But in the past week I worked in my shop and around my property. I bought a desk and refinished it. I sharpened the kitchen knives. I took my family out to dinner. I did performance appraisals for six of my employees and gave them raises. I went fishing Sunday with a new friend and we caught an even 100 fish (and released 97 of them). I've been living.

I've come to realize that my anger won't change what's happened; my misgivings won't change the world's response. Like everyone else, I watch, wait, worry.

But I'm living as I haven't lived in a long time. I don't think the two phenomena are unrelated.


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