It’s the 10th anniversary of September 11th, and I just am trying to reflect on what is wrong with me that I’m almost getting sick of what I’m nearly considering the overblown commemorations of the event. And yet, here I am, adding to it. Like many, I have my remembrance of the day, which is similar to many yet is still my own, but for the past week I feel as if I’ve been being bombarded with how I should feel about the event, with how I should remember, with how my life has changed because of it. And in defiance of my feeling pressured to remember, I posted a word on my Facebook wall – “Diquadeaux.”
Now what the hell does this mean and how does this relate to September 11th? Well, for my Facebook friends, for reasons beyond reasoning sometimes, I post a word of the day. There is generally a reason for every word I choose, and as yesterday was a normal day, with my wife calling me a “dickadoo,” a word she thought she made up, I wanted to post the word today as my word of the day. Then she we looked it up on Google, and low and behold, there it was in the Urban Dictionary, something about males being penises, dicks, etc. All I could see in my head was a smile the next day as my sister would look up the word “dickadoo” on the internet, and wonder what she would put as a comment. Then the fear of what my in-laws would think if I posted the word crept in, especially after my sister’s comments, so I decided to change the word to a different spelling, knowing my sister would probably end up with a comment like “That’s not a word, Google doesn’t know it.” In my head, I smiled again.
Then I woke up this morning. How could I put “diquadeaux” as a word of the day on the 10th anniversary of September 11th. Shouldn’t I use something like “remembrance,” “defiance,” or something more seemingly appropriate for the day? But then the thoughts of being sick of all of the coverage creep into my head and I’m thinking things like “Overblown,” “Sick” (as in sick of it all), and then, “Bombardment,” being sick of being bombarded with all of the coverage. Then I’m like, “No, if I do that the terrorist win. I’m not going to let them dictate my word of the day!” Then I’m like, “Don’t be such a, well, dickadoo. Post something about remembering.” Then I turn on the TV and get bombarded, once again, by how I should feel, how I should explain it to kids, how some lady was in the Sears Tower 10 years ago who still works there today and how her life has changed (it hasn’t, other than the increased security, she looks 10 years older – and is more observant of planes). As I’m watching the coverage and reading my Sunday paper, I’m thinking “More of this?”, and I feel bad that I’m feeling that way. Today, though, I understand the tributes, and the coverage, but I’ll never understand the need to re-edit the Bad Meets Evil song featuring Bruno Mars, “Lighters,” cutting out the Eminem and Royce Da 5’9″ parts with news clips from September 11th.
I remember the day, in my way, and will say some prayers.
But my word of the day is “diquadeux.” Fuck you terrorists.
That’s it for this one! I’m the Dude on the Right!! L8R!!!
