Strange Times
So what should I write about? Should I tell the tale of my journey home, one filled with anxiety and humor? Should I talk about how strange it is to be back in America, an ambiguous feeling that deserves pages of reflection? Do I muse on my reunification with friends and family, no doubt utilizing truckloads of sentiment?
Or, do I talk about that damn bridge.
For those of you who don't know, my family moved into a condo (don't call it an apartment or my Mom will cut you) in downtown Minneapolis. The new location made my homecoming an even more surreal experience. The transition from Chaska to Minneapolis would have been a dramatic move on its own accord, but after spending a year in China, it also helped shatter my notion of "home", something I longed for these past few months. It was all too much. There was too much change, too much to think about, and it was all happening too quickly.
And then the bridge collapsed.
The local news provided the first bit of information and live coverage was quick to follow. That's when my sister noticed rising smoke, not on television, but out the window. The bridge had collapsed no more than a quarter mile away from our condo and with a pair of binoculars, our view was as good as anything on TV. The road below became the central vein for emergency vehicles. First, police cars flew by, then ambulances, then firetrucks, then dive team vans. For some reason, seeing the dive team vehicles tear their way towards the scene of the crime was the first time that shivers worked their way down my body. The next time that happened was when my dad told me that since the family had moved downtown (2 weeks ago) he had incorperated the I-35 bridge into his daily morning run. Yes, he ran accross the bridge that morning. This sounds particularly chilling, but I have to wonder how many people have similar stories. I myself have crossed this bridge countless times.
Beyond that, my news coverage is just as good as your news coverage.
I suppose I'll put up a decent post discussing my journey home later.
Turst me, I want to see you. I have a new home phone number and no cell, so let me know how to contact you.
Thomas
Or, do I talk about that damn bridge.
For those of you who don't know, my family moved into a condo (don't call it an apartment or my Mom will cut you) in downtown Minneapolis. The new location made my homecoming an even more surreal experience. The transition from Chaska to Minneapolis would have been a dramatic move on its own accord, but after spending a year in China, it also helped shatter my notion of "home", something I longed for these past few months. It was all too much. There was too much change, too much to think about, and it was all happening too quickly.
And then the bridge collapsed.
The local news provided the first bit of information and live coverage was quick to follow. That's when my sister noticed rising smoke, not on television, but out the window. The bridge had collapsed no more than a quarter mile away from our condo and with a pair of binoculars, our view was as good as anything on TV. The road below became the central vein for emergency vehicles. First, police cars flew by, then ambulances, then firetrucks, then dive team vans. For some reason, seeing the dive team vehicles tear their way towards the scene of the crime was the first time that shivers worked their way down my body. The next time that happened was when my dad told me that since the family had moved downtown (2 weeks ago) he had incorperated the I-35 bridge into his daily morning run. Yes, he ran accross the bridge that morning. This sounds particularly chilling, but I have to wonder how many people have similar stories. I myself have crossed this bridge countless times.
Beyond that, my news coverage is just as good as your news coverage.
I suppose I'll put up a decent post discussing my journey home later.
Turst me, I want to see you. I have a new home phone number and no cell, so let me know how to contact you.
Thomas
posted by The Friendly Liberal at
4:35 AM
4 Comments:
No wonder you haven't returned my call! I left you a fabulous message on your cell, but you not having one right now sort of complicates matters... I'm going to be in town briefly in the next few days, so give me a call and maybe we can work something out. Lunch or a brief afternoon snack or something. 612-251-3430.
By
Bri, at 6:20 AM
Yo,
I'm beginning to think you're too cool for me after not responding to any of my past e-mails letting you know how exciting I was for your homecoming and to HIT ME BACK!!
Eve
By
Anonymous, at 11:34 AM
Good post.
So what's the future of China 1, Tommy 0 now that you're back? And when will you be getting a cell phone?
By
Adam Fetcher, at 6:39 AM
Good post.
So what's the future of the blog now that you're back? And when are you getting a cell phone?
It was sweet to see you last week. Come visit!
By
Adam Fetcher, at 6:40 AM
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