Memory @ MindSay 
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On September 11, nineteen fanatical Islamic fundamentalists hijacked four American passenger planes and crashed one into the Pentagon in Washington, one each into the two towers of the World Trade Center in New York City, and one into a field in Pennsylvania, killing approximately 3000 people. I was told what had happened by a former student as I was leaving my room after class at 10:00 and was walking slowly up the incline of the corridor to my office cubicle.
"Mr. Skank!" she exclaimed. "Have you heard?"
"What?"
With my student I walked to the library where the staff had arranged two television monitors in the reception area for public viewing. With a dozen other people—new viewers arriving as others left for class—I watched as reporters replayed tapes of the catastrophe again and again.
All that day and into the next we watched television.
Finally Ruth insisted that she and I stop. Instead, she suggested, we should throw our bikes into the bed of our pickup and drive up to DeSoto Wildlife Refuge, which had become our favorite refuge indeed. To this I consented—and how glad I am that I did. Of our experience on that September 12 afternoon my wife wrote this poem—
What we saw when we left our unharmed city, left our television
the day after: butterflies by the hundreds on white-flocked
weeds—all monarchs but one that spread open black
and blue. A hummingbird moth zipped from flower
to flower—how the wings too quick to see zebra-
striped the air. Over the river an osprey carried the dark
shape of a fish like a rudder against its chest.
A second and third surveyed, dived, and soared
to pinpoint distance. The first kingfisher plunged
and came up empty. Across the preserve another waited
in a low branch, pounced, and raised a kicking frog
to treetop. Great blue heron stood gray in shallow
water, craned their long necks into the air, moved
like statuary stalking. A swarm of swallows gleaned
fields and waters. Killdeer ran their pleading scripts.
Canadian geese honked away from us by threes and fives,
assembled in the river then lifted in tens and twenties,
glowed in the low sun then turned, rode loud and broken
Vs around the bend. Ducks squawked from the bank's tall grass.
Families of deer leapt across the road or gathered in clans,
looked up from bales of graying hay or browning
rows of corn. Pelicans slid like giant rubber ducks. Puffs of white
floated in uncut blue until the burying of light streaked
orange and pink. Replayed over every scene, towers flared
and crumbled from our heads, gray ash, arms and legs—a sifting.
Rescuers, officials, husbands and wives, daughters and sons,
lovers, friends, neighbors, strangers searched—ants on the moon.
Unlike most of the students, colleagues, acquaintances, and friends I spoke with or emailed over the next twelve months I felt no anger. My own reactions to the events were—in this order—shock, disbelief, horror, revulsion, sorrow, sadness, and dread. At first more than anything else I felt sad.
Then I felt dread.
For the next two months and off and on for several weeks more, to colleagues, friends, and family I emailed all the poems and short excerpts of prose I could think of that might offer comfort and context for understanding.
"I think we should drop nuclear bombs on Mecca," proposed a man in one of my classes not long after the religion of the suspected perpetrators was first reported, "and incinerate every single one of them towel heads and turn their whole fucking country into one big concrete parking lot."
My student insisted he wasn't joking.
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm not!"
The carpet bombing of Afghanistan began.
As I stood at the sink and washed dishes at Christmas I asked one of our holiday dinner guests if he knew how many innocent Afghans had been killed in the war there. The media had studiously avoided reporting any estimate. I was curious. My question annoyed my guest.
He made a face.
"I don't give a damn how many innocent Afghans have been killed!" he exclaimed.
The victims of the terrorist attacks on September 11 and the victims of our retaliation in Afghanistan were all total strangers to him. He knew none of them. Yet the thought of innocent American victims brought him to the verge of tears. His eyes glistened as we spoke. Their lives were precious. The death of innocent Afghans meant nothing to him. Their lives were worthless. He had only his labels to help him think and feel.
American?
Precious.
Afghan?
Worthless.
In my classes I tried everything I could think of to defuse the anger of my students. One of my email correspondents was a demographer, I told them, who claimed to bear allegiance to no national state nor to any organized religion.
"She calls herself an earthling and a freethinker," I explained.
Fearing possible recrimination from patriots and true believers of a wide range of nations and churches she asked that I withhold her name and email address if I were to share her remarks with others. Despite recent events she remained optimistic. Even if every American should die in a terroristic attack—from anthrax, say, or from radiation—on the great graph of historical time the death of 300,000,000 people was a significant but still relatively minor blip; and 94 percent of the human race, about 6.2 billion people, would remain alive.
For purposes of comparison my friend the demographer asked that we consider the effect of the bubonic plague on 14th-century Europe. Within ten years the disease had killed 25,000,000 people, fully one third of the European population, yet just a short while later—in historical time—there had occurred the justly celebrated Renaissance.
Though her numbers were right my demographer was a fiction of my own invention who allowed me to present both information and an attitude and perspective I wanted my students to consider without blaming me.
The moderator.
Makes me remember a palm reading I got twenty years ago. The reader took a look at my hands and winced. He had a thick Hungarian accent, a recent immigrant to Milwaukee earning his keep at a New Age store, or maybe just a guy playing the part of an eccentric gypsy to make some silver, yet he had come well recommended. I worried about how he winced at my hands. What did he see?
"You are fire," he frowned deeply as if my touch really were hot, "people want to warm up to you but sometime it is too much." His prediction was that I would be a beacon of light as well as a raging firestorm. At least he lent me this advice, "you have to put the fire working somewhere."
I think I know what that means now.
Skin care is not a topic of elapsed times; it has been in manner since old times, when herbal skin care was probably the only way to take care of skin. However, skin care has transformed in a big way. Herbal skin care routines retain been replaced by synthetic / chemical - based skin care routines. The herbal skin care recipes which once used to be common place are not so appealing today ( and even unknown to a big population ). This transformation from herbal skin care to synthetic, can probably be attributed to two things – our laziness ( or just the quickly stride of lives ) and the commercialisation of skin care. Even herbal skin care products own been commercialised. These commercial herbal skin care products posses to be mixed with preservatives in order to increase their shelf - life, hence manufacture them less effective than the fresh ones made at home. However, it seems that things are changing briskly and additional individuals are now opting for usual and herbal skin care routines. But still, none want to make them at home and hence the commercial mart of herbal skin care products is on the incline.
So what are these herbs or herbal skin care mechanisms?
Aloe vera, which is an extract from Aloe plant, is one of the top examples of herbal skin care product. Freshly extracted aloe vera is a normal hydrant that helps in soothing scrape. It moreover helps in curing cuts and treating sun burns.
A number of herbs are proclaimed to possess ablution properties. Dandelion, chamomile, lime flowers and rosemary herbs, are a few examples of such cleansers. Their herbal scrape care properties get invoked when they are combined with additional herbs like tea.
Antiseptics are another central quota of Herbal sore care. Lavender, marigold, thyme and fennel are righteous examples of herbs that are published to possess clean properties. Lavender moisten and rose moisten besides form good toners.
Tea plays an important quota in herbal skin care. Tea extracts are used for treatment of skin that has been damaged by UV radiation.
Oils prepared from herbal extracts present another means of herbal skin care. Tea tree oil, Lavender oil, borage oil and primrose oil are some appealing oils used in herbal skin care. Some fruit oils ( e. g. extracts from fruits like banana, apple and melon ) find use in shower gels ( as a hydrating mingle )
Homeopathic treatments and aromatherapies further come unbefitting the umbrella of herbal skin care remedies.
Herbal skin care is good not only for the routine nourishing of skin but besides for treatment of skin disorders like eczema and psorasis. Most herbal skin care products don’t own any side effects ( the most important ground for preferring them over synthetic products ) moreover, herbal skin care products can be tender made at home, hence production them even additional alluring. So, herbal skin care is the way to go. However, this does not mean that you absolutely discard the synthetic products. Some individuals go to the spread of debating with their dermatologist, if he / she suggests a synthetic product. You should assume the truth that some skin orders might want usage of clinically proven non - herbal skin care products.
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You wanna hear something funny?
Of course you do.
So, today, I get an email from my friend Kelly. Subject: Planet Acronym.
That's weird, right? I certainly thought so. So I open the message and it says (word for word):
Remember a few weeks ago I couldn't think of the planet acronym?
Here it is w/ Pluto removed - My Very Educated Mother Just Served Us Noodles
Also, my favorite quote I couldn't recall is: The object of teaching a child is to enable him to get along without a teacher. - Elbert Hubbard
Just a little FYI:-)
That's it. That was the whole email. Seems rather confusing, yes? But I happen to recall that almost a month ago, (2/28) Kelly and I had our Teen Day and at the end of the day we were playing a board game with her husband, Mark. Well, one of the questions had to do with the planets and Kelly grabbed a piece of paper and started writing this acronym down. Well, she couldn't remember it all and so couldn't get all the answers right. Still, not a big deal. But, after the question was over, she said to me "what is that acronym?" I had no idea. I never learned the acronym, or if I did, it didn't stick. I just memorized the planets, until some point when I learned a story to help remember them (which I didn't need).
Later on that same night, we were bustling around Kelly's kitchen and she sees my purse slumping on the counter. Sticking out of its top is my "book". If you know me at all, you've seen the book. If you've ever asked me to look something up for you, you're very familiar with the book. It is my catchall book. I keep my bills recorded there, interesting stories from work, questions people ask. Random phone numbers and email, whatever...it goes in the book. It isn't a planner or datebook, just a spiral notebook. I took the book, shortly after I decided how I would use it and I decorated it to suit my taste. It is now covered with quotations (I LOVE quotations of any kind) from children's book authors. It makes it decorative and fun to look at.
Well, Kelly had never seen the book, so she hadn't known about the quotes, and apparently she is also a lover of quotes
***sidenote***
It just happened again! I was trying to find out if there is a term for a person who loves quotes. Like a lover of books is a bibliophile, lover of music is audiophile, etc. Anyway, as I am looking this up I stumble across the word, Infornography, which is apparently a person who is addicted to information. Does that describe me or what? Man, I love stumbling across new things to learn. It makes me so happy, and now I even have a name for my sickness. Yay!!!***
so she spent some time studying my book. (Did you enjoy how I just picked that right up as though I didn't ever interrupt myself?) Well, she immediately started telling me how much she loves quotes and did I want to know what her favorite quote is. Obviously, I did, because I love quotes too, but she couldn't remember. Damn you, Dos Equis!
Okay, so the night went on and then life went on and honestly, I had forgotten about both of these instances. Then, out of the blue (it has never come up again--at least between Kelly and I) I get this email.
I thought it was so funny and I am curious to know what ever made her think of these two things so long after the fact?
Well, that's your humorous anecdote for the day. Now onto more serious things.
First off, my grandma had surgery this morning and it went very well. I am relieved above all to hear this. At the age of nearly 91, everything is a concern, especially surgery. But she came through with flying colors, so all is good there.
And finally, I want to end this ramble with a shout-out to Justin. He got a new job!!! He starts his new experience today and I am so happy for him and can't wait to find out how fabulous it is going to be. I am sure you'll be hearing more about this in the future.
Okay, pretty sure I've covered everything worth talking about. So I'll say "see ya later alligator".
9 days.
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