Caution, explicit language follows:
So there I am, minding my own business when all of a sudden I get flooded with emails, twitter messages and facebook status updates about Kanye West and Taylor Swift. WTF?
So I had to do a little digging because those two names go about as well together as eyeballs and hot glue guns.
Seems Mr. West pulled a very low trick on the Mtv awards. Something I might add, I haven't watched since Soundgarden was up for a nomination.
I digress. It seems Taylor Swift (who is a pretty typical pop singer, my 8 year old daughter loves her) won her very first moonman award. Good for you!
Kanye wasn't happy with this outcome and decided he somehow, is more important than anyone else on the planet and jumped on the stage, stole the mic from Miss Swifts hands and began ranting how Beyonce should have won.
Excuse me?
A flabbergasted Beyonce in the audience gave him a "oh no you didn't" look before turning all sorts of red. She even frantically looked around her like she was being Punk'ed and Ashton Kutcher was going to jump out.
Kanye took this, I'm quite sure (though I've never won a moonman myself) very important moment away from a 19 year old girl.
She's a freaking child you piece of shit jackass!
Who the hell does he think he is? Seriously? Didn't his mother teach him manners? You DON'T do that! I don't care who you are, or who you THINK you are. You just don't. It's reeks of low class.
Worse than that, his selfishness (though in his shallow, narcissistic mind made it out to be chivalrous) was a major embarrassment to the one person he was trying to defend!
None the less, the class act that Beyonce is, she gave Taylor Swift her moment. Kudos Beyonce. Proving once again that you indeed are a lady.
Now, the question I have to ask, when did people decide rude is ok? Kanye just did it in a massive way, but he's no different than most of the people who cross your path daily. His problem is ego. What's the excuse for everybody else?
Ugh. See, this is why I can't stand awards shows. Mind numbingly, self absorbed people doing ridiculous things.
September 14, 2009
September 11, 2009
Where Were You 8 Years Ago Today?
I was in San Diego, California.
Chris was stationed at Naval Air Station, North Island (Now Naval Base Coronado)
Work started for him at 6 in the morning, so with the rush hour commute he usually left our home around 5.
On his way to work he listened to the greatest radio dj's in existence. Jeff and Jer.
They were doing their normal morning routine when all of a sudden they announced "we're getting reports of a small plane crashing into the World Trade Center"
Chris listened....but assumed it was an accident. Still he was interested. He got to work and gave me a call. He knows I'm a news junkie and that Gracie would be waking up soon so he wanted me to know about the developing story out of New York City.
As I was on the phone with him I turned on the tv to the news. Within minutes the second plane hit.
All I could say was "Oh my God.....Oh my God!"
Chris realizing quicker than I had that this was no accident and he was on an air base in the military said he had to go....his final words to me in that conversation was "this is going to be bad"
I hung up the phone and quickly dialed my Mom in Oregon. She turned on the news, then hung up so she could call and tell my Grandmother the news.
I sat there, on my living room floor watching the events unfold.
I talked to Chris shortly after the first tower fell. I was talking to him when the second one came down.
I couldn't believe it. I honestly couldn't believe what I was seeing on the tv screen.
The base was being shut down. Only essential personal were allowed to stay. The downfall to my husband being a computer guru...he was essential personal. We had no idea when he would be allowed to leave the base. One thing was for sure, Gracie and I were alone in our house in San Diego...without a car.
Call after call came in from concerned friends and family. My Aunt in Salt Lake City was getting ready to drive to San Diego and pick Gracie and I up. My Grandmother was on the phone trying to get me a train ticket or rental car so I could go "Home" to Oregon where it was safe. A good friend who lived in Long Beach desperately wanted to come down and get Gracie and I.
By this time the Pentagon and Shanksville, PA had happened. More planes were still in the air. I know, I lived under the flight patterns in San Diego.
I watched out my window as planes were diverted to Mexico. I watched fighter jets "escort" incoming passenger planes. I listened as the constant hum of the air traffic became an infrequent interruption...startling me every time until finally the only sound was the occasional military jet or helicopter.
Chris told me from his perspective, he watched as military planes were being sent up so quickly they did it two at a time, one right after the last. He watched as the blips on the radar screens in the tower slowly started to disappear until finally there was nothing in the air.
Later that evening I walked outside my home. I needed air, I needed to get out. I felt trapped and just needed to walk away from the scenes on the tv for a moment.
Something strange happened. Many of my neighbors had apparently had the same idea. There was a decent handful of people just standing out there. People from every walk of life. Military families, waring gang members, college students, quick mart employees. Black, White, Mexican, Indian. It was indeed an American quilt.
People I never spoke to before that day. People I more than likely, never even looked in the eye before that day.
There we were, outside just staring. Each and every one of us was effected. We must have looked like a group of zombies wandering the street.
We looked at each other. Introduced ourselves, Shook each others hands. Hugged. Cried together.
I watched something truly amazing. There with our group were two neighbors. They came from rival gangs and I normally avoided them. They I would assume, avoided each other as well.
As one walked toward our little party, the other walked toward him, held out his hand and said "not today brother, not today" The first one took his hand, and they hugged.
I learned something in that moment. Something so profound that hasn't left me since. We are all Americans. We may disagree, or live vastly different lives but ultimately we are of the same family.
Unfortunately most Americans have forgotten the lesson. For a few months following the events of 9/11 we were one big family. I don't know when we collectively forgot that truth.
I just hope we can collectively remember before another 9/11 reminds us.
God Bless the USA and God Bless the men and women of American Airlines Flight, 11, United Airlines Flight 75, American Airlines Flight 77 and the heroes of United Flight 93.
The Firefighters, EMT's and Police, the office workers and the military who gave their lives that day.
I will never forget September 11, 2001.
Chris was stationed at Naval Air Station, North Island (Now Naval Base Coronado)
Work started for him at 6 in the morning, so with the rush hour commute he usually left our home around 5.
On his way to work he listened to the greatest radio dj's in existence. Jeff and Jer.
They were doing their normal morning routine when all of a sudden they announced "we're getting reports of a small plane crashing into the World Trade Center"
Chris listened....but assumed it was an accident. Still he was interested. He got to work and gave me a call. He knows I'm a news junkie and that Gracie would be waking up soon so he wanted me to know about the developing story out of New York City.
As I was on the phone with him I turned on the tv to the news. Within minutes the second plane hit.
All I could say was "Oh my God.....Oh my God!"
Chris realizing quicker than I had that this was no accident and he was on an air base in the military said he had to go....his final words to me in that conversation was "this is going to be bad"
I hung up the phone and quickly dialed my Mom in Oregon. She turned on the news, then hung up so she could call and tell my Grandmother the news.
I sat there, on my living room floor watching the events unfold.
I talked to Chris shortly after the first tower fell. I was talking to him when the second one came down.
I couldn't believe it. I honestly couldn't believe what I was seeing on the tv screen.
The base was being shut down. Only essential personal were allowed to stay. The downfall to my husband being a computer guru...he was essential personal. We had no idea when he would be allowed to leave the base. One thing was for sure, Gracie and I were alone in our house in San Diego...without a car.
Call after call came in from concerned friends and family. My Aunt in Salt Lake City was getting ready to drive to San Diego and pick Gracie and I up. My Grandmother was on the phone trying to get me a train ticket or rental car so I could go "Home" to Oregon where it was safe. A good friend who lived in Long Beach desperately wanted to come down and get Gracie and I.
By this time the Pentagon and Shanksville, PA had happened. More planes were still in the air. I know, I lived under the flight patterns in San Diego.
I watched out my window as planes were diverted to Mexico. I watched fighter jets "escort" incoming passenger planes. I listened as the constant hum of the air traffic became an infrequent interruption...startling me every time until finally the only sound was the occasional military jet or helicopter.
Chris told me from his perspective, he watched as military planes were being sent up so quickly they did it two at a time, one right after the last. He watched as the blips on the radar screens in the tower slowly started to disappear until finally there was nothing in the air.
Later that evening I walked outside my home. I needed air, I needed to get out. I felt trapped and just needed to walk away from the scenes on the tv for a moment.
Something strange happened. Many of my neighbors had apparently had the same idea. There was a decent handful of people just standing out there. People from every walk of life. Military families, waring gang members, college students, quick mart employees. Black, White, Mexican, Indian. It was indeed an American quilt.
People I never spoke to before that day. People I more than likely, never even looked in the eye before that day.
There we were, outside just staring. Each and every one of us was effected. We must have looked like a group of zombies wandering the street.
We looked at each other. Introduced ourselves, Shook each others hands. Hugged. Cried together.
I watched something truly amazing. There with our group were two neighbors. They came from rival gangs and I normally avoided them. They I would assume, avoided each other as well.
As one walked toward our little party, the other walked toward him, held out his hand and said "not today brother, not today" The first one took his hand, and they hugged.
I learned something in that moment. Something so profound that hasn't left me since. We are all Americans. We may disagree, or live vastly different lives but ultimately we are of the same family.
Unfortunately most Americans have forgotten the lesson. For a few months following the events of 9/11 we were one big family. I don't know when we collectively forgot that truth.
I just hope we can collectively remember before another 9/11 reminds us.
God Bless the USA and God Bless the men and women of American Airlines Flight, 11, United Airlines Flight 75, American Airlines Flight 77 and the heroes of United Flight 93.
The Firefighters, EMT's and Police, the office workers and the military who gave their lives that day.
I will never forget September 11, 2001.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
