Commie Girl

Bullet Dodged! Dancing on 9/11 minus four

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So I went to the Riviera anniversary party. I thought about my cousin and my brother and my stupid ex-boyfriend (him I wasn't sad about), and I didn't think about Sept. 11 at all, or the terrorists would have won.

The DJ was excellent, starting with some Brazilian pop and mambo, segueing into some lazy French hip-shakers, and then moving into funk and old school. The food was excellent, and copious. And despite 400 of Riviera's closest and richest friends standing in attendance, there was never a wait for champagne.

Instant class warfare: Just add water. Photo by John Watkins
Instant class warfare: Just add water. Photo by John Watkins

And I danced and danced for two hours, until my son reminded me it was a school night, and would I like to go home?

On Sept. 11, just a few days later, I took him to a ball game. The Angels lost to the White Sox, but it was close and featured some great double plays. I missed the tribute beforehand to the attack on our homeland, because I didn't really care.

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This week's topic—and why wouldn't it be?—was Sept. 11 and the War on Terror. Armed with the knowledge that some media types had listened to our show and commented that I sounded ill-informed, I made sure to sound even ill-informeder. KJ from Austin went on at length about the smell of the morgue at Ground Zero where she volunteered, and Shawn Fago and Erik Brown on the Right talked a whole bunch about Iran wanting to wipe us off the face of the map.

I am particularly ill-informed on Iran.

Ron called in to say putting panties on people's heads is awesome—Ron loves torture—and I reminded him that people died in custody at Abu Ghraib from soldiers' abuse, and that conservative Christian Senator Lindsey Graham almost wept after seeing classified footage. It was, Graham said, footage of rape and murder. I am not ill-informed about Abu Ghraib.

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