1,095 Days Later

A Toast by Robert McEvily



The towers have been gone for three years now. Much easier to say "the towers" than "thousands of innocent people," so... that's what I say. But I also say "the towers" because I miss them - the actual buildings. I miss that famous eleven in the skyline.

I remember being traumatized into promising to be a better person, but three years later, I'm pretty much the same guy. Some minor improvements, I guess - I run a slightly faster mile and I'm nicer to old people - but I'm pretty much the same. Are you? Has that awful day been distilled in your memory? Have the things that instantly became less important slowly regained their weighty prominence? Are you back to being a selfish jackass?

Don't sweat it. You're not alone.



Last September 11th, John Ritter died. He was like my comic panacea. Three's Company never fails to put me in a good mood. It's a bit tainted now, realizing Ritter's not around, but it's forever silly, sexy fun, and we all need a whole lot more of that. (Trust me, we do.)

There was a card store at the base of the north tower. I bought a little something for my girlfriend there, a small green rock. It says "LAUGH." She still keeps it on her dresser.



So raise a glass this September 11th. Raise it high and drink a toast to the greatest of all gifts - laughter!