I made an off color joke on Facebook the other day.  It was in response to all the insincere and rote 9*11 shiz that is all over the site.  The "click like if 9*11 was the saddest day of your life"s or "we are all New Yorkers on 9*11"s.  Never mind the lives lost in DC or Pennsylvania.  Not to mention the soldiers and civilians who have given their lives since we retalited.  Or the families that suffer when their men and women are overseas fighting for us.  Or the sadness that so many people suffer every day.  In America and around the world.

September 11th has gone kitchy. 

"We're all Irish on St. Patricks Day!"
"Christmas is the hap, happiest sea-
son
of
all"

Wal*Mart (don't you dare tell anyone I was there on Friday) had a display of all the red white and blues- well, it's Wal*Mart, everything is maroon, cream, and navy.  They stylize and rusticize everything into Shabby Americana merchandise in the Chinese*Factory.  Probably because
a) they aren't allowed to make American stuff with real American colors and materials
b) it's cheaper
It's like those Phillies t-shirts you can buy outside of the stadium for $5.  Where the P isn't quite right and the Phanatic is teal. 

Wal*Mart (don't you dare tell anyone I was there on Friday) had a display of all the Amerikana stuff in the center of the store.  Step right up, step right up, folks.  Get your Patriot Day decorations. 
Next to the display was bbq tools and the sparklers.

What a way to dump all the leftover Memorial Day, Fourth, and Labor Day merch at full price!
Genius.

September 11th is officially cause for celebration and decoration.  All according to the powers that be at Wal*Mart.

Which, last I checked, are pretty powerful powers.

What was my tasteless joke?  I wrote on Dave's wall that I see a market in greeting cards.
Happy Patriot's Day, baby.  I love you more than all the other 9*11s put together
or
If I had to, godforbid, I'd spend the day crying in front of the television and trying desperately to get a phone signal with you all over again.
or
Thinking of your loss on September 11th and every day.

It's not too far off from the what people are wearing on t-shirts and putting on their status updates.

I spent last week talking to people about 9*11.  I'm sure most people did.  Where we were, how we reacted, who we lost.  I said to a few people, "I wonder how long it will be before we start getting the 11th off.  When the cook outs and beer guzzling will start.  Fireworks and cornhole.  Last day at the pool.  The new unofficial last day of summer.  I'll bet it happens in Jake's lifetime.  I don't think 9*11 is like 12/7.  I don't think it will fade into oblivion.  I just wonder how long it will be."

Answer: this year.

Maybe it has something to do with the eleventh falling on a Saturday.  Maybe not.

Once again, the all knowing Facebook cued me in to what some of my friends were doing yesterday
"heading to a bbq!"
"party!!!"
"going to the hall for some eats and drinks in memory of John Smith.  RIP Johnny, thankx for all you gave up"
"always remember my bro who I lost on 911.  This one is for you, Mikey. (insert mobile upload of Mikey's favorite drink)"

If you're on FB, you saw them, I'm sure.  I run with surly crowd, but I'm pretty sure that it wasn't just my people posting those things.

Did it upset you too?

I went to a party yesterday.  A Sweet Sixteen party.  Out in the burbs, totally not in relation to the (holi)day.  Jake needed a little break from the madness, so we took a walk around the block after dark.  A night walk.  We like nightwalks.

There were two familes doing sparklers, dads struggering (that's struggling and swaggering.  the drunken juggle) with the lighters and their beers.  The grill still smouldering in the corners of the driveways.  Mom eating a hotdog and taking a break.  One of them taking pictures of the kiddos.  Everyone wearing red white and blue.  I wonder if Old Navy has a $5 deal on those flag shirts in September.  Two teenaged girls in flag bikinis.  One stars and stripes, one confederate.

Klassy.

The church on the corner had a rememberance service and bbq on Saturday morning.  The service I'm okay with, but I wonder how many people came for the free food.

$1.50 Domestic Drafts at the bar across the street, September 11th only.  Go America.  Bottoms up.
Beer gets you smart, you know. 
Sure it does. 
Made ole' Bud weiser.

Back to the party until Jake lost it again.  I had a headache, it was a long day.  Pile in the car.  Headed home.  Down Lincoln through Prospect Park, on to 95.  Belly up to the City, and there it is.

Fireworks.
Real ones.  On the waterfront.

I'm happy to see that we've moved on enough to the point where we are okay to celebrate with explosives, booze, bikinis, and processed meat products.
Really effing happy.