Learning Just to Learn: A Look Back On Looking Back (The Redundancy Chronicles)

I’ve never written about the attacks on September 11th 2001. The reasons vary, but mostly because every year we get further away from that day and my story is not better or any different than what we’ve heard from much more interesting people than myself. But yesterday it was announced Osama Bin Laden is dead and I thought, “How do I make that about me?”

September 11th 2001 changed my life. Most people will look at that statement and assume that I had loved ones whose lives were taken away by that crazed lunatic. In fact, I don't know anyone that died or had a relative die due to those attacks on our country. The only person I know that was around the World Trade Centers that day is my Aunt. I believe she was out for her normal Au Bon Pain run and had to walk most of the way home back to New Jersey after the attack. I hadn't heard that story in a few years so when she retold her escapades at a family function a couple years ago she was in much better spirits than when it first happened. She ended her story with, "It's the most exercise I've gotten in 20 years!"

One man's 9-11 is another man's P-90X.

No, the real reason my life changed that day was because I remember the thoughts going through my head that day. I was awoken by my roommate Jeff screaming "Oh My God!" while he was in his room. I immediately thought a piece of sheet rock had fallen from the ceiling and crushed his larynx since we lived in a creaky old house inhabitated by raccoons and the roof had the inability to keep rain out of the living room. So I went back to sleep. When he screamed "Oh My God" again, that's when I got up ready to yell at him from awakening me from my dream about being able to dunk a basketball. I walked into his room and saw the World Trade Center towers billowing smoke and had no idea what was going on. My first thought while watching it was...

"What's the World Trade Center?"

I didn't say that out loud, but I remember thinking it. Looking back on it, it's a pretty embarrassing piece of history to revisit. How could a 20 year old educated young man, who grew up 40 minutes from New York City not know what the World Trade Center was or where it was? I blame myself because instead of taking the more broad American History class in High School, I took the AP History class. The reason wasn't because I liked history or even enjoyed a spirited debate about Mayans killing people with voodoo or drinking blood of kangaroos or whatever they did. I took the class because I saw a cute girl the year before filling out her "Class Schedule Request form" and she chose AP history. Surely, she would fall in love with me and my vast knowledge of the Columbus Expedition. "There was a Nina, Pinta, AND Santa Maria."

I'm single.

Around 8th or 9th grade I started to incorporate humor into my personality to get over my total awkwardness with other people. In school people thought I was smart because hello, I'm brown. I wasn't really interested in any subjects in high school except math because this is what Indian DNA is blessed with. I was so good at math that one of my teachers dubbed me the human calculator and would point at me to solve the equation before someone with a calculator would.

He never wanted me to have sex.

But besides math, I was more interested in making people laugh. I got good grades based on memorization and not knowing what I was memorizing or why. The day after bin Laden ordered his band of cronies to change our country forever I vowed to actually become smarter. I was embarrassed when I went to class and the topic of the attacks came up that I didn't know much. I wanted to know things. When someone debated policy in the Middle East I wanted to chime in with something more constructive than, "I ate falafel once" to get a chuckle.

I started to read things other than TV Guide and Maxim. I would pick up this thing called the newspaper, which doesn't exist now but was pretty big in 2002, and read the front page and not that crappy Family Circus. One panel. Never funny. I didn't do it to impress anyone else so much as to be a well rounded person. I don't want to go up to people and say, "Look, I'm smart now!" and spout off the last 10 prime ministers of the United Kingdom. This is mainly because I only know 3 of them and because those people are enormous douches. So I stick to the funny. Trying to convince someone you're smart is like trying to convince someone you're not racist even if you're not. "No, seriously, I know this black guy and we're friends. Then one time I dated this little hot mamacita and I TOTALLY saw Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon."

Quote taken from MLK’s unofficial autobiography, “I Didn't Have That Dream.”

One of my friends that I met in college constantly cross checks any information I give her because she can't believe it would be right. I don't mind. To her, I'll always be that kid that says funny stuff. That's fine. It's better than being my smelly friend or my klepto friend or my special friend. One time I was at a party that had one of the weirdest arrays of people I've ever seen in one place. It was like a Venice art gallery opening was dropped in a Political fundraiser at Spielberg's house. The conversations ranged from inane sports debates to the housing market to something about how marijuana heightens your senses. For the first time I felt compelled to jump in and talk about some of this stuff rather than say, "poop" and giggle away at my new found hilarity. At the end of the night the girl I was dating looked at me and said, "Wow, how did you know all that stuff? I'm impressed."

Spoiler Alert: We totally had sex that night. Take that Physics teach.

For one night someone told me I was smart and it felt pretty good. I probably would have accrued some knowledge without the 9-11 attacks or it would have taken longer to do so, but that was the day I decided to READ. Learn about the world. It's when I realized I wanted to write my thoughts down. Now bin Laden is dead. Maybe some families will get closure, maybe not. Some sort of justice has been served, but it takes me back to September 10th 2001. I was different that day. Everyone was different then. So much has changed.

My aunt hates Au Bon Pain now.