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Thursday afternoon. I’ve taken one of my increasingly-frequent breaks to watch Miss Lucy and The Simpsons.

The disaster coverage was bad enough, but the victim and survivor stories are too much. I just can’t watch them without starting to tear up, especially the ones about people who went back to their offices based on an “all clear” announcement from the World Trade Center security staff. What the hell were they thinking? And when they played the Bay Area man’s last answering machine message from his wife on the 93rd floor, I’d had all I could stand.

There were bomb threats in the Financial District and at the airport today, although only the cops seemed to be taking them very seriously. There were idiot fratboys walking around trying to be funny by yelling “boom”. There were sirens everywhere, and people were looking up at the slightest noise.

Even in “tolerant” San Francisco, I watched people suspiciously eyeing a woman of apparently Middle Eastern descent as she walked out of the cell phone store. No one said anything, but you knew what they were thinking, and it didn’t have much to do with her tight skirt.

Tonight for me, it’s back to pushing the new fall season on The WB and UPN. Tomorrow I get to go have some more blood drawn. Oddly enough, I’ve been feeling much stronger and healthier the past few days and sleeping much better. I guess other people’s suffering has managed in some way to divert my mind from my own comparatively insignificant maladies.

The thing which scares me almost as much as the potential for more terrorist attacks possible economic collapse, etc: the yahoos who are walking around acting so gleeful and excited about the possibility of a major war. These people are positively giddy at the prospect of “going over there and kicking some butt”, as if they were headed for a fucking football game. The testosterone flows freely.

We’ve been through a terrible tragedy and there will (and should) be a response, one both dramatic AND well-considered. But we’re not talking about a video game or a miniseries here. It’s not going to be exciting, entertaining, nor particularly fun to watch. It is not, under any circumstances, something to look forward to. And it’s not going to be over in a week.

Repeat after me: real life is not a war movie and the hero does not always survive to look sexy and get the girl in the final scene.

Patriotism and unity are one thing. Displaying an American flag while calling everyone who disagrees with you a “traitor” or “un-American” is another. It’s certainly not patriotism. Pride in one’s country is a little empty without pride in the ideals on which it was founded. It’s a little like the flag-burning debate; to many, the actual piece of cloth is more sacred than the freedom it represents. Priorities and perspective be damned.

Similarly, lashing out at anyone who looks like he just might have Islamic tendencies or Middle Eastern roots is a sign not of heroism but of plain bigotry and ignorance. Remember that big backlash against people who looked like survivalist white guys after the Oklahoma City bombing? Nope, neither do I.

OK, enough preaching for one day. Some things I love today:

• There are now “King of the Hill” reruns five nights a week.
• Pork chops are on sale at Safeway.
• I got two long overdue checks in the mail today and may be able to continue eating for another few weeks.
• The front of my building is no longer Pepto-Bismol pink.

We’re all still sad and frightened and generally anxious, but life goes on. Tomorrow, it’s back to the cynicism and saracsm you’ve come to expect in this space. Unless I change my mind…

You can also read older versions going back to 1989, if you like…

If, on the other hand, you’d like to complain about something I’ve said, why not just skip it? An email appeal is not likely to make me change my mind and suddenly decide that I’m just crazy about speed freaks nor make me a Republican, now is it?

What I Am:

• 37 years old, both younger and older in spirit and appearance, depending on the time of day, with weight increasingly less proportionate to height.
• Plaid-acting and appearing.
• Pretty far left politically, but with a significant lack of tolerance for pseudo-intellectual warm and fuzzy liberal bullshit.
• Bitter and cynical, but generally a nice guy unless I’m given reason not to be.
• Somehwat lethargic and sometimes even inert.
• Sometimes self-centered and often self-indulgent.
• Fond of my car and of road trips.
• Fond of transit and urban walks.
• More likely to shop at Target than at Macy’s.
• An avid reader of non-fiction and student of urban history, sociology, and architecture and commercial archaeology.
• A half-assed writer.
• Moderately profane.
• Independent and fetishistic about privacy and having abundant time alone.
• Convinced that Fresno, Baltimore, and Detroit may well be (or should be) the actual cultural centers of the US.
• Both intrigued and repulsed by the generic; an often-bemused observer of the everyday banalities of life.
• The kind of person who should probably be a career graduate student.
• Currently fighting hyperthyroidism and nicotine addiction.
• A veritable font of useless information and trivia.
• Very much into bullet points lately, for some reason.

What I’m Not:

• Obsessed with my sexual orientation or with “being gay“, “gay movies”, “gay websites”, “the gay community” or any other such claptrap.
• A closet case.
• Into leather, drugs, or dance clubs.
• Vegetarian.
• Patient with assholes, bad drivers, and other idiots, nor with spoiled children and the parents who made them that way.
• A workaholic, upscale yuppie drone.
• The inhabitant of a particularly stylish abode.
• On the cutting edge of technology.
• Inclined to pay 60 grand for a car just because I can. By the way, I can’t.
• An athlete or customer of any gym.
• Fond of nature, hiking, camping, or the “great outdoors”.
• Religious or spiritual.
• A Republican or Libertarian.
• Convinced that all intelligent life ends at the San Francisco city line.
• Particularly moved by poetry.
• A wine connoisseur nor a consumer of coffee which costs more per cup than lunch at Burger King.
• Sad to see San Francisco’s economy collapsing nor the yuppies fleeing.
• Comfortable in crowds or at parties.
• Amused by conspiracy theories.
• Likely to become any of the above.

What You Are:

• Unpretentious.
• Close to my age, maybe a bit younger, definitely not too much older. Call me shallow. I don’t care.
• Maybe a little geeky or dorky, probably somewhat shy and soft-spoken, and a bit of a loner.
• Probably more “east coast” in attitude and outlook.
• Intellectually healthy but still inclined toward more lowbrow cultural pursuits.
• A diner freak, and I don’t mean Mel’s or Johnny Rocket’s.
• A Simpsons fan who can recite dialogue from memory on a regular basis.
• Someone who values the written word.
• A little disshevelled-looking and not impeccably groomed.
• More likely to use MacOS or even Unix than that other, inferior Microsloth product.
• Able to love a tape which might include the Buzzcocks and Ella Fitzgerald, back to back.
• Comfortable with the idea of agreeing to go to lunch one day and ending up at some dive 150 miles away because I “felt like driving”.

What You Aren’t:

• A snob who never admits to watching TV, eating junk food, or watching porn.
• A professional homosexual who has substituted a sexual orientation for an actual personality.
• A speed freak, pothead, practicing alcoholic, or any other variant who relies on chemicals to have a good time.
• A gym rat, a disco bunny, or a sweater queen.
• A touchy-feely granola who uses the term “negative energy” without irony.
• Someone who has a shrill, politically-programmed response to every utterance including “it’s a nice day today”.
• Cocky, arrogant, loud, or inclined to describe yourself as “masculine” or (spare me) “straight-acting”.
• A workaholic, upscale yuppie drone.
• Unnaturally muscled or into that whole cologne thing.
• Morbidly obese or so into “natural” scents that you never bathe.
• A Republican or Libertarian.
• An “entourage” type who must always be surrounded by lots of other people.
• Someone who would ever make me listen to techno, “new country”, or Mariah Carey around the house.
• A fan of “Friends”.
• Annoyed by an individual who is a veritable font of useless information and trivia.
• Annoyed by bullet points.