Before the tarnish

I think we all know that it's nearing a time to remember.\nInnocence.\nI think I can picture Sept. 10 like it was almost yesterday.\nIt was still fairly nice out, not too hot, not too cold. The Indiana Indian summer was in full swing, and I was walking home from a class in Ballantine Hall. I was just getting used to seeing the same faces walking to and from my Spanish class -- the ones we never say "hi" to, but notice when they're missing.\nI remember that then, I had no idea what they were thinking.\nI remember worrying about a paper I really didn't want to write, and a performance that needed extra rehearsal. I had to read too much for a political science course, and I think I was talking too much in class. People were getting annoyed. I had to try to play it cool from then on. The stress was beginning to pile up. Those things were really important.\nI remember the things that weren't fair. The prices of my books, girls I liked who wouldn't talk to me, boys I didn't like who would talk to me and the lack of parking near my dorm. Machines ate my change, and I couldn't find a decent fake. Those things were really worth complaining about.\nThe food wasn't great, and it wasn't cheap. But I made a lot of it. I would watch some DVD's with friends, play video games and order cheese-bread. Plans were significant. The people around me seemed to encompass the whole world. Other than them, everyone else seemed to be side-players, ambiance.\nI never once thought about where the father of a girl on my dorm floor lived and worked. I never considered to ask.\nI didn't like to watch the news in the morning. A few people ate their breakfast at the TV in the center lounge in front of CNN. I didn't care about the shark attacks and that senator's missing intern. I paid more attention to entertainment news. I remember thinking the trailer for the new Spiderman movie looked really cool.\nThere were books about pain I had been reading -- Victor Frankle's Holocaust memoirs and "The Narrative of Frederick Douglas." They were like movies -- touching, but too far removed from my generation. It'd been too long. We've come so far. We didn't do anything; we were blameless. Our walls were indestructible.\nI remember thinking that fire-trucks were annoying. They turned too wide. \nCops were bothersome buzz kills.\nOur president had trouble speaking...some things never change.\nI remember the person I was. I was scared of spiders and aliens. I was fairly sure about my future. I think I only used the word "hate" to describe musicians. I was wearing new jeans and shoes. My parents and I were close, but it'd been a long time since they'd seen or heard me cry.\nYeah, I remember Sept. 10 like it was yesterday. \nI remember I celebrated a Manic Monday with friends that night. We danced and sang over Guster and Cougar in a house that was dirty, but welcoming. The TV was big. The speakers were loud, and the couches were comfortable. There were kisses and laughs, libations and absolutely no care.\nI went home late and slept in. \nIt was going to be a great year. I had big plans.\nOh, what a difference a day makes.