I was living in Los Angeles and sleeping in since it was my day off. The phone rang and my pal Dave who lived in NYC said "Turn on the TV." I sat for the next I don't know how many hours staring at the Twin Towers as they slowly and inevitably fell to street level. I was able to talk to my Mom since she was in Pittsburgh but getting through to anybody in New York (where I had lived for the previous five years) was impossible. And then Mom tells me my Dad's okay, which scares the hell out of me since I didn't know he might NOT be okay. He was flying into DC and there was concern that he would have been on the flight headed to the Pentagon, but fortunately, no.
It was very weird that week. I only knew a handful of people from New York who lived in LA so the blase-ness with which many Los Angeles residents were taking this was infuriating to me. I spent Sept 21 with a friend at a local Italian restaurant on Melrose called Frankie's - Frankie and 90% of his clients were from New York and so that was a good place to be since we all intuitively understood what we wanted to say to one another. But the next night I had to work at my pan-Asian restaurant in Santa Monica and every time I had to wait on another table of people laughing and having fun I just got angrier and angrier.
A few good things came out of this horrible tragedy - decisions I made to do things that I wouldn't have done if not for September 11th. And it was obvious what the Snakespoon that year would have to be:
Things got peppier the next year.
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