Boston

I couldn’t blog after the Boston Marathon explosion.  Numbed. Disillusioned, as if I expected a celebratory run on Patriot’s Day to remind me that all is right with the world when I know it isn’t. And it isn’t.

Where do we go from here? Sweeping the internet is a quote from the late Mr. Rodgers who once said: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping’.” Nice advice that doesn’t work for everybody.   

Ok. I can’t strike back at those responsible for this senseless act. For one, I’m not with the FBI, secondly, I’m like most people, helpless, arguably too far from the tragedy epicenter to help directly.

An Iraq combat vet told me the television close-up coverage of the people hurt in the blast bothered him—he’d seen enough bodies, faced enough terrorism. “Why did they have to show so much?” he asked. TV news can be a sick form of entertainment for some; i.e., you’re there and I’m here, safe. All depends on your perspective and experiences. We need to know, but not always see the pores of horror. I guess there’s always radio.

I’m searching for the right words to make a final polint, but at the moment I can’t find them. Maybe they don’t exist.