Life goes on, bra
Regular television programming has more or less resumed, but there has certainly been, and justifiably so, a dark cloud, more composed of confusion and sorrow than of gloom, hovering over everything. David Letterman resumed his show tonight, and admitted that he didn’t feel it was entirely appropriate for his show to be back on, that it was too soon. Dan Rather was the lead guest, and at least twice he let his emotions get the best of him and broke down in tears as he and Dave chatted. He apologized immediately, saying he was a professional, and that it was his job to not let things like that show. Dave patted his hand and said, “Yes, you’re a professional, but good Christ, you’re also a human being.” The audience applauded, and I sort of broke down in tears myself. Can’t really blame Dan, or the other anchors – they’ve pretty much been working eighteen hours a day since Tuesday morning, and not only have they had no time to spend with their loved ones, but they have necessarily been forced to think about and reflect on the disasters almost exclusively since they occurred. Plus, they become privy to information long before it comes out to the public. I won’t blame them for one minute for letting the strain show through. And this certainly applies to the rescue workers, who are in much the same boat but have the added trauma of seeing and feeling the carnage, and yet must remain stoic and strong and continue to dig. If they need to rest for a moment, or have a cry, that’s something they should do. Not that they need my permission or anyone else’s, for that matter.
Craig Kilborn opened his show with no introduction, no monologue – we simply saw him sitting at his desk. He quietly explained that, like Dave, he wasn’t entirely confident that it was the right time to continue with the show. He also noted that the possibility of a coming war would certainly affect how and when his show is aired. How would they know what was appropriate then? Tonight’s show, then, was to be a sort of experiment. “No comedy,” he said. “Just catharsis.” He acknowledged that it would be pretty easy for his writing staff to put together some innocuous comedy bits, but no one felt like being funny. Craig said he himself didn’t feel like being funny and didn’t know how many days, weeks it would be until he felt the show could return to normal. And despite all this, just like on Letterman, there were still laughs, some self-deprecatory (“Some of you will say, ‘Craig, you’ve done no-comedy shows before, haven’t you?’ Well, this time it’s intentional.”) and some simply bittersweet. Say what you like about Craig Kilborn, but tonight he had me choked up.
I think it’s a good thing for these men to be back on television – NBC’s talk shows aren’t back on yet as far as I can tell – because I think it will help us grieve, and it will help us to find that catharsis Craig was talking about, and it will raise us, however gradually, from the gloom, and it will remind us, if any of us needed the reminder, that all is not lost.
Off-topic and somewhat frivolous after the above, but I have found the following to be a useful distraction in the last few days – [http://www.vectorinternet.co.uk/games/kick-ups.html]. It’s a little flash game where you see how many times you can kick (click) a soccer ball before it hits the ground. I suck at it – my highest score has been 17, which is small potatoes compared to the highest scores, but that’s neither here nor there – it’s just a nice little way to pass the time without having to think too much. I’ll admit thinking too much is not necessarily a problem for certain segments of the American population at this point in time, but if you’re like me, and this tragedy makes your own mortality loom and your sense of hopelessness about the state of the world expand, then take a break, and go suck at this game. At least, if you’re like me, you’ll suck at it.