Friday

This is about time-delays. Like when my internet is hardly working and I have a low-bandwidth conversation over my VOIP telephone. I talk, and then someone else talks, stopping short to listen to what I've just said. They begin to answer while I'm trying to answer what they were first saying. Bam, frustrating time-delay. I'm going to juxtapose things that have nothing to do with one another, sort of like that telephone illustration. Yesterday was September eleventh. I celebrated by getting run down by a motorbike. I'd been planning to write about how refreshing it was to be way over on this side of the world, where I wasn't reminded even once about the seventh anniversary of the terror attacks on New York and Washington DC. I didn't want to do this because it would defeat its own purpose, obviously. But what else was I going to write about? Hey, I needed a haircut! So I crossed town to get one for blog purposes. It was shortly before eight pm, but my usual place was closed. Undaunted, I wandered around the haircut district looking for some other place. The other place I found wanted eleven fifty for a three-dollar cut. That haircut was time-delayed till today. Okay, I'll do the nine-eleven thing, I thought, any existential irony be damned. But then I was crossing the sidewalk and got hit by a scooter. The real subject of yesterday's post occurred to me while I was hopping around rubbing my left calf. The anniversary would wait until I could utter the phrase "no constant reminders" without ruining my own effect. But I'd forgotten that there's an eleven-hour time difference between here and New York slash Washington DC. Throughout last night, and much of today, I've been systematically reminded. Time-delay reminded. [Cavin]