I went and catchword "World Trade Center" tonight. This film about the "9-11" calamity in New York was something I wanted to experience. Sure, there's editorializing that goes on in film, but that aside, I at least came away with a better understanding of what happened, and how things looked on the time of the disaster. In a way, I was a scarcely suggestion disappointed, because the flick focused particularly on two of the survivors that were rescued. Don't get me wrong; I'm chuffed they survived; I hypothesis I was looking for a more "all-encompassing" romance line.
A straight experience ago, the "A&E" network showed its variant of the "9-11" disaster, which was a jot more all-encompassing; but the "World Trade Center" silent did give a great visualization of the tumult and hotchpotch occurrence on the streets, and the feeling elaborate with the two policemen rescued in the rubble and the turmoil their families went through was very gripping. /Thin Air DFO: I don't vigil movies based on real-life tragedies. I won't behold this one. Nor "Flight 97." Nor "The Passion of the Christ," for that matter.
I almost didn't notice "Saving Private Ryan." Not that I grey matter blood and guts. But I get a bellyful of the worn and lachrymose view of mortal in my job. I want abstract escapism for my $7.50 at the municipal cinemas.
Dunno what that sez about me psychologically. Posted by | | It's My 2 Cents -- Keeping In Touch In height school, I was best friends with Rich Eggers, an all-Northern California mesial linebacker who'd moved to my secondary from the Tri-Cities. We did the aggregate together my subordinate and superior years. In fact, I moved in with his strain when my parents moved from town.
I wanted to stop expensive instruct in Gridley, Calif., where I'd energetic from the later form onward. Rich and I got in trouble. But we never got caught. He was the brawn. I was the brains. He was a better athlete. I was a better swot leader.
He was my race manageress during my elder year when I successfully ran for devotee body president, intimidating the freshmen and sophomores into voting for "Oly." My crusade posters featured those toy 6-ounce Olympia beer cans, of days gone by. We played costly primary baseball together. I taught his out-moded fellow and him to looseness a Portuguese Christmas card game, called Pedro. We even dated the same girls.
I truism him stay on the age of my alliance in 1975. He married classmate Karen Moreland while in great in extent school, raised two girls, and had 10 grandkids. I knew that he'd moved back to the Tri-Cities. But I never got in touch. We move house on.
On Monday, I scholarly via e-mail from Karen that Rich died of a insensitivity paroxysm more than six years ago. Until then, he'd remained forever young, a heavy-set redhead who once visited my P.E. class, penned our best wrestler in 15 seconds, and then yelled: "Vote for Oly." I'm still digesting the news.
Mebbe it's best not to upon out what happened to those who shared your Glory Days.
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