in hoboken: i am an idiot. it's been said before, it's being said now, and it will, rest assured, be said again. i went into work today. despite the fact that giuliani was asking those who could stay home to do so. i, worker bee, obviously couldn't afford to stay home; i had IMPORTANT work to do. plus, i'd left early yesterday (not knowing when the others left -- which turned out to be 10:30). plus, i didn't want to be the only one who didn't show up, despite the fact that i was coming from jersey.

i was one of ten or so people in the entire company who showed. the only other person in my department who showed came in from long island; his reasoning was the same as mine. we were anathema to each other: we reminded each other of our own stupidity and unwitting arrogance (we apparently saw ourselves as more valuable than our boss, the head of the department, etc.) as we left, we vowed that we had not seen each other, quiet as kept. he strolled off to penn station, ready to walk onto a 10:15 train as it was about to leave. i, on the other hand, victim, slave of new jersey transit, had to wait until 1:47. a cursory glance at my watch indicated it was 9:15. groan.

i had a nice walking tour of hoboken, walking around aimlessly for about an hour trying to find a cab. i was willing to pay whatever price to get back the hours i'd lose by being stuck in hoboken for so long. i was ready to sully myself, to do things i wouldn't normally do. when i failed, i made my way to the park off of sinatra drive (that's FRANK sinatra, the kid from hoboken) and took in the manhattan skyline as i'd done countless times before. it'd be my first time to drink in the whole thing, the altered landscape, in person.

i stopped in my tracks when i saw the smoke plume which was headed towards jersey now. the skyline seemed a whole lot less impressive without its twin jewels. i looked at the decimated buildings and thought of the decimated lives, and i was not alone. the park was full today with all sorts, the closest thing to a vigil our modern times will allow, the sense of peace broken every so often by beethoven's 9th emanating from someone's cell.

though i've seen the world trade center countless times i couldn't place it in the landscape. i could see it in my mind, could picture it, but i couldn't drop it down into its former neighborhood, which began to upset me. i realized that the only way i'll ever see those buildings again is in the endless video on television or in the theater of my mind. before too long, i stop and think about how i'm eulogizing a building when there are people out there who'll only ever see loved ones again in their memories. it seems the mourning is out of proportion, that the buildings are receiving just as much remembrance as those who've passed. i imagine that that'll all change as the death count amasses, and yet i pray that we'll all be tremendously underwhelmed, if such a thing is possible where lives are concerned, by the human loss, that figures like "1300 feet tall" and "110 stories" will dwarf the final toll.