The Hampton Smoker

What's up wtih what's going down? Does a tree falling on the ocean with no one around make a sound? Barbecue, BBQ, Bar-b-que. It's all in how you sell it.

Sunday, September 11, 2005

Define A Transparent Dream

September 11th again. Too many feelings fill the cup of my heart to know where to begin to describe them. This is one of the few memories in my life that exists as more than a snapshot, but comes complete with the visceral shiver of exactitude in recalling the place, feeling, color of the moments that comprise it. I can remember the frantic phone calls, the shock, the anger, it all comes back. I had to turn away from watching the ceremony this morning. I'm sorry to the families, the city, the country, even the people of middle eastern backgrounds that have been tormented. Life continues somehow. Time doesn't diminish the importance of the day or help to make sense of what has happened.

With that in mind, and with no disrespect for the magnitude of this day, I'm posting a few food photos that have been hanging around and a poem. I don't know what to do other than continue to live. I hope you all give each other a big hug today and always remember to be grateful for all we have, and don't forget to tell the people in your lives that matter most how you feel about them every chance you get. This is all we have.

Love, Matt.

Below is a poem by former Poet Laureate of the United States, Billy Collins, that fits my mood today. It is from the book, Nine Horses, published by Random House.


These are no pages for the young,
who are better off in one another's arms,

nor for those who just need to know
about the price of gold,
or a hurricane that is ripping up the keys.

But eventually you may join
the crowd who turn here first to see
who has fallen in the night,
who has left a shape of air walking in their place.

Here is where the final cards are shown,
the age, the cause, the plaque of deeds,
and sometimes and odd scrap of news--
that she collected sugar bowls,
that he played solitaire without any clothes.

And all the survivors huddle at the end
under the roof of the paragraph
as if they had sidestepped the flame of death.

What better way to place a thin black frame
around things of the morning--
the hand-painted cup,
the hemisphere of a cut orange,
the slant of sunlight on the table?

And sometimes a most peculiar pair turns up,
strange roommates lying there
side by side upon the page--
Arthur Godfrey next to Man Ray,
Ken Kesey by the side of Dale Evans.

It is enough to bring to mind an ark of death,
not the couples of the animal kingdom,
but rather pairs of men and women
ascending the gangplank two by two,

surgeon and model,
balloonist and metalworker,
an archaeologist and an authority on pain.

Arm in arm, they get on board
then join the others leaning on the rails,
all saved at last from the awful flood of life--

so many of them every day
there would have to be many arks,
an armada to ferry the dead
over the heavy waters that roll beyond the world,

and many Noahs too,
bearded and fiercely browed, vigilant up there at every prow.


Blogger Mona said...

Thanks for sharing that post...I've been in a weird fog all day and it's good to see I'm not alone...eerie how today's weather conditions are EXACTLY the same as they were 4 years ago on that frightful morning. Watching families reading their loved ones' names was just as hard for me today as it was back then. Sometimes it feels it just happened yesterday.

4:31 PM  
Blogger Backyard Chef said...

You're definitely not alone, Mona. There was an odd sort of normalcy this morning and leading up to today-- an unspoken awareness. And then I watched the ceremony and my heart broke for the families all over again. For people of my (our?) generation-- the early 30's and younger, this is such a defining event. I keep hoping to wake up with this all erased from history.

8:49 PM  
Blogger WhiteTrashBBQ said...

I understand and share many of your feelings about the day. I'll never forget the emotions. I didn't watch the memorials. I didn't want to live it again.

I'll never forget the snow of ash and business papers here in Sheepshead Bay. People's lives, now burned were showing up on my doorstep. I'll never forget the friends, colleagues, and acquiantences that were lost in an instant.

I'll never forget watching people cry on the subway two days later when the Q train entered the Manhattan brigde and the city skyline came into view.

And the main reason I didn't watch - four years later and there's still a hole in the skyline and a daily reminder of that day. I'll watch the memorials when that hole is filled.

12:53 PM  
Blogger WhiteTrashBBQ said...

BTW - that picture of the hot dog is obscene!

12:54 PM  
Blogger Backyard Chef said...

I hear you Robert. Thanks for your comments. I can't believe so little has come to pass down there so far. The comapny that I'm leaving just had their ground breaking for the new PATH station they designed. At least something is moving forward. It's hard to see that gap in the skyline.

What, are you intimidated by the weiner?

9:38 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home

Your Gateway to Barbecue Information
A service of
netRelief, Inc.

This site is a member of The Smoke Ring
A linked list of BBQ websites

Next - Skip Next - Next 5 - Prev - Skip Prev - Random Site

Join the ring or browse a complete list of The Smoke Ring members

If you discover problems with any of The Smoke Ring sites,
please notify the Ringmaster

[ Previous 5 Sites | Skip Previous | Previous | Next ]

This RingSurf Food~n~More Ring Net Ring
owned by Backyard Chef.

[ Skip Next | Next 5 Sites | Random Site | List Sites ]

More blogs about bbq.
More blogs about The Hampton Smoker.