Tuesday, September 11, 2007

sometimes to think I just don't even know what anymore

tennis is over (all hail King Federer), Ronald Reagan's first wife is dead, and today no one seemed to be able to talk about much other than Britney Spears' leadoff spot at Sunday night's VMAs.

but eight days ago (at just about this hour) 19-year-old Jose Sierra of The Bronx was shot in the back of the head while standing on the southbound platform of the Broadway stop on the N-W line in Astoria, Queens.
which is a station I pass through, say, a dozen or more times every week.
the incident provoked this rant from a Gainesville, Florida resident who, despite living approximately 1,013 miles away from the shooting, professes a particular knowledge of my neighborhood (personally, even after a dozen years of residency in this zip code, I can't remember "screaming and shouting in spanish, public intoxication, and group-urinations," but maybe I was out of town that night).

and, of course, when the sun comes up it'll be the sixth anniversary of September 11th. and I'm guessing Mr. Rabid Republican will change his tune (jump on the bandwagon, as it were) about our fair city (we're all New Yorkers today, right Gainesville?) for all of about 24 hours.

play it for him, Lee Greenwood.

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