Five Years

September 10, 2001 was a triumphant day for my brother Bryan and I. We had spent months planning the annual Snader and Associates golf tournament at the Marin Country Club, and this was event day. Everything went to plan, in fact we were so prepared that we ran out of work to do, a joyous rarity in the world of event planning. We wasted a good portion of the afternoon driving a golf cart around the course, chatting with the players, including our sponsoring manufacturers who had flown in from all over the United States to play a little golf.

By the end of the evening, I was exhausted but wired from the event going so well. I went for a celebratory beer with my coworkers Lisa and Rick, where we toasted to a great event. I remember going to bed that night thinking what a success I was becoming in my field, and wondering what the next steps might be for me.

Unfortunately, the world I fell asleep in and the one I woke up in were two dramatically different places. At 6:59 AM on September 11th, the television in our bedroom came on (it was set on a timer). I remember hearing Tori Campbell from KTVU's Mornings on 2 show say in a solemn voice that the South Tower of the World Trade Center had just collapsed. I was still in a foggy dream state so I thought maybe I was imagining what she just said. But then she said it again, and as if we choreographed it, both Tim and I, the most anti-morning people you've ever met, sat straight up in bed and stared at the TV, wide awake.

I started shaking and crying as the mornings events materialized in front of me. First I called my mom who was watching the news and was equally upset. My brother and his girlfriend Jaii, who lived in San Francisco at the time, were scared to be in the city, and drove down to my parents house in Pacifica. Tim had to go into work, a fact so terrifying at the time, as he worked in San Francisco, and had to drive over the Golden Gate Bridge, a known terrorist target. I was already taking the day off to recuperate from the golf tournament, and I spent most of that time sitting in like a zombie in front of the TV watching the towers collapse over and over again. I was paralyzed by fear I didn't know I possessed.

Within 24 hours, my entire world had changed. Suddenly I knew about Osama Bin Laden, the Taliban, Muslim extremists, and the definition of jihad. The golf tournament seemed so far away, and my future, that had only one day before seemed so bright, was incredibly uncertain.

Five years after the attacks on September 11th, my world is a lot brighter. Learning to live in our tumultuous world has taught me to cherish life more. I don't feel totally safe, but I don't let the fear that once paralyzed me to the core stop me from doing anything either. I've continued to travel to other parts of the world in airplanes, take public transportation, and be proud of my Arabic heritage (at times, one of the scariest things to do, although I'm not a terrorist, nor am I Muslim. I have encountered many people with strong feelings about Arabs however, and for some, there is simply no gray area on this topic).

The past five years have gone by quickly to me. I look back at the person I was on Sept. 10, 2001 and my life seemed so much more simple then. I grew up a lot in five years, I suppose we all did. September 11th taught me about the resilience of Americans. The importance of family. The value of living life to its fullest. Living with and overcoming fear. I think back to the first flight I took, just a mere three weeks after Sept. 11th, and how quiet that plane was. And the courage it took just to step foot on it. But I did it. And for that I am so proud. I'm just sorry it took the lives of 3000 people that day, and nearly as many fighting the current "war on terror" for me to come to this place of understanding.

I will never forget.

The Star Spangled Speedo

My friend Monique was over last night and she was shocked that I left out perhaps the best of the Speedo stories from over the years in my last blog. I promised to add an addendum to my last entry. Mo...this one's for you!

Mo, like myself, was a swimmer in high school. Years ago, when I was living back in Pacifica, the two of us would keep up our forms by hitting the indoor pool weekly at Oceana High School. Wednesday nights were the best nights to go, as it was adult only swim. We started to get to know the people who'd swim there, from the little old ladies in the slow lane, to the hardcore 500 IM guys in the fast lanes. But our favorite person of all was the man in the Star Spangled Speedo.

Once again proving my theory that the hairier of a man you are, the more likely you are to wear a Speedo, Mr. Star Spangled Speedo (or Mr. SSS) would come out of the men's locker room, sporting a seriously hairy torso. He had several Speedo's in his repertoire, but his favorite was a patriotic red, white, and blue number, complete with stars and stripes. Because really, what says "proud to be an American" more than a Speedo? For reasons known only to himself, Mr. SSS would always walk one lap around the entire pool before jumping in, strutting his stuff for all of us to see. Without fail, Mo and I would always manage to catch him doing this, and being lousy at keeping a straight face, would erupt in thunderous roar of laughter once he passed us by.

This is so awful to post, but you have to understand what we were viewing weekly. Having the balls (mind the pun) to wear one of these gives a whole new meaning to "the home of the brave!"



One problem with the Speedo is that it leaves very little to the imagination, and from time to time, Mr. SSS would be a little happier than usual to see all of us. My poor mother joined Mo and I one time for adult swim, and got to witness Mr. SSS with her own eyes. On this particular evening, Mr. SSS was in one of his more aroused states. Being the smartass that I am, I turned to Mo and my mother, and in my most serious voice said, "May I have your attention please. All rise for the Star Spangled Speedo!" Even my mom, a classy lady if there ever was one, had to take a moment to compose herself after that one.

Mr. SSS has become a bit of a legend to Mo and I. Although I have not seen Mr. SSS in years, he will live in on famously as one of the many freaks who makes my life that much more comical to live in, and the pool a much more entertaining place to visit.