The President on Nation-Building and the U.N.

October 11, 2000
During a debate with Vice-President Al Gore in Winston-Salem, N.C., giving his opinion of the American military intervention in Somalia:

“It started off as a humanitarian mission and that’s where the mission went wrong. The mission was changed. And as a result, our nation paid a price, and so I don’t think our troops ought to be used for what’s called nation-building. I think our troops ought to be used to fight and win war. I think our troops out to be used to help overthrow a dictator when it’s in our best interests. But in this case, it was a nation-building exercise.”

October 11, 2001
White House news conference to update effort to respond to September 11 attacks:

“We’ve got to work for a stable Afghanistan so that her neighbors don’t fear terrorist activity again coming out of that country…I believe that the United Nations could provide the framework necessary to help meet those conditions. It would be a useful function for the United Nations to take over the so-called nation-building.”

March 17, 2003
In a televised address warning Saddam Hussein to leave Iraq within 48 hours or face invasion from American-led forces:

“A broad coalition is now gathering to enforce the just demands of the world. The United Nations Security Council has not lived up to its responsibilities, so we will rise to ours.”

September 23, 2003
In a speech to the United Nations General Assembly:

“Helping Afghanistan and Iraq to succeed as free nations in a transformed region, cutting off the avenues of proliferation, abolishing modern forms of slavery – these are the kinds of great tasks for which the United Nations was founded.”

Thoughts?

Okay. Suddenly it works.

But anyway.

So yeah. Went to camp again. Fun times. Too much at times. But all good. What else? Just work. Workin' like a dog. My newest claim to fame is that I was quoted on the front page of the New York Times Metro Section. Pretty cool stuff. So yeah, that's my life right now.

Oh, and last night, I saw Gypsy with Bernadette Peters. Anyone who says that she's less than fabulous should be shot. She was absolutely freakin' incredible. Blew us out of the water. Totally worth the money I spent on the show. You know what? I'll just take everyone to see it. Now I understand why Jason likes it so much. P.S. I also have center orchestra tickets to the premiere of Wicked. Who's the bitch now?

So yes, I will be doing another Illustrious Theatre Company show (A Midsummer Night's Dream was my debut with them this summer) - and coincidentally, it's The Fantasticks. If you don't know why this show is significant, then you don't know me very well, do you? Or maybe you didn't go to college with me...ah, poop. Well, basically, I directed the show in college so it's pretty funny that I'm going to be in it in November. So keep the dates open if you wanna see it - and go to a $3 wine tasting for the best Reisling north of the city.

Yeah. That's about it. I've decided to take a break from the political rant because I think y'all know where I'm coming from for now.

I plan on writing more tomorrow since I have plans to watch Queer Eye for the Straight Guy and Newlyweds: Nick & Jessica tonight. That's right. So stay tuned for some interesting commentary. Why? 'Cause besides catching Broadway when I can, working on a show, and work - I have nothing else to do. So there.

Okay. I have no idea why when I look at this page I can't get my most recent posts from February on. But them's the brakes.

I also assure you that I haven't Blogged since May. Stop looking at me like that. I know I fail. Big time.

But let's see, so much has happened, I don't even know where to begin. Well, there's the blackout. Here's what happened to me:

I was getting ready for my vacation. I was going back home the next day. When the lights went out in the office, we were sure it was our fault. Then we realized it was the entire floor. Eventually, we came to the realization that it was the building and we were trying to figure out who tripped a cable. Soon, we were at windows, peering into the offices next door to see if they were out of juice only to find them staring back at us and wondering the same thing. “It must be the entire block,” we explained. I managed to open a window and hang myself out just enough to see what was going on – fire trucks had started moving downtown quickly and there were people gathering on the sidewalks. Finally, someone in the office found a transistor radio and to our disbelief, we found out that all of Manhattan was out of power. The office manager was able to get on her cellphone (they don’t work well in emergencies, by the way – we have some experience with that up here) and talk to her mother in Westchester. This is how we found out that power was down from here to Michigan.

We decided to leave the office and head to a co-workers apartment in the East Village (it was the closest to our office). At this point (maybe 15-20 minutes after the lights first went out), people were streaming out of buildings and taking over the streets. Cars were jammed between the pedestrians; all the traffic lights were out, so people were just filling in the spaces between the cars since the sidewalks were crammed. Tourists were completely confused. One of them asked, “What the heck is going on?” He looked a little scared. Ten of us answered him and basically said, “Lights are out, we’re going home. Follow the crowd.”

At first, we were all a little scared. The exodus from Lower Manhattan was an eerily familiar scene. We work half a block away from the Trade Center Site. As we looked right past City Hall to the Brooklyn Bridge, it triggered a memory in my brain that I hoped I would never recall. Soon, we were standing at a corner, listening to a radio with at least twenty other people. We heard the Mayor assuring us that the City was secure and that it was not terrorist-related. In that instant, you could see who was a New Yorker because the relief settled back into everyone’s face. At that moment, the blackout became an annoyance rather than something to be scared about. But the mood changed and people were in much better spirits.

After walking the twenty-twenty five blocks to the East Village, we hung out, trying to find out information about how and when those of us who live further north could get home. We sat, hung out, talked, listened to the radio, and tried to stay cool. As night started to fall, those of us that lived north decided it was time to try to get home. We figured we could try to catch a cab or a bus, but we knew there would be some way we could get home.

On the street, the raw food restaurant next door was hopping. People were on the streets, sitting, meeting neighbors for the first time. Crowds were gathered on corners where some people had set up radios. As we tried unsuccessfully to hail a cab, night started to fall rapidly. In the time that we left the apartment, it was almost pitch black. It was very strange for a city used to artificial light. We decided to try our luck and move north in hopes of finding a bus since it was impossible to find a cab. There were three of us left, I live Upper East, and I was about 98 blocks away from home. One of my co-workers lives at 195th, the opposite end of the island. The other co-worker lived in Westchester. We needed to find a way to get home that didn’t involve walking since night was falling so quickly and the only point of reference we had on NYC blackouts involved a lot of rioting and looting. We stopped at 14th Street and 1st Avenue, coincidentally the same place I was able to catch the bus on September 11th.

So we waited. And waited. And tried to hail cabs. Buses were going across town, but not uptown. A crowd of people had formed on the corner. People who lived in the Bronx were becoming visibly agitated. One woman in particular was yelling at the buses and cabs going by. For the most part, everyone was patient and making the best of the situation. We were about to give up when a truck actually stopped. The passenger hung out the window. “Anyone going uptown?” he called. In a matter of seconds, ten of us jumped in the pickup. Our plan was to get to my apartment and then I was going to drive my co-workers to 195th Street. At this point, we just wanted to get north and it seemed we found a guy willing to go up the east side to the Bronx.

We were moving well until about 34th Street where the traffic just stopped cold. People were trying to get to Queens and without traffic lights, we just weren’t moving. We shifted in the heat and discomfort, settling in for the long haul when a guy got out of his car and came over and asked, “Can I take your picture?” We hammed it up for the camera as we realized exactly what it must have looked like, ten people squished in the back of this pickup truck that wasn’t really moving anywhere. Soon, people were taking pictures all over the place. We moved slowly, but long enough to start conversing with people walking on the street. Police were doing what they could to direct traffic and keep an eye on the streets. In the intersections where police were missing, regular New Yorkers were attempting to direct traffic – and not doing a bad job. Though we were hot and very uncomfortable, I was smiling the entire time.

Eventually, we were able to turn on 42nd Street to try to get to a less crowded street. It was at this moment that I was struck by the blackness and silence – being stuck in traffic gave the illusion of light because of all the headlights. Immediately, I looked up to see something I have never seen in Manhattan in the two years I’ve lived there – the stars. I could barely make out the Chrysler building, but it didn’t matter because my attention was drawn to the sky. Soon, however, my attention diverted to the street where I saw bars wide open and people just mulling around midtown – it looked like a big street party. Some businessmen were asleep on the street, heads on briefcases. We stopped at an intersection and a man walked out from one of the bars, posed for a picture with us, and then handed the passenger his full glass of wine. When the passenger tried to return it to him, the man smiled and said, “No, you take it, pass it around.” Eventually, I had an almost full glass of wine in my hands and no one else wanted it. When in Rome…

After we passed the 59th Street Bridge, traffic disappeared. It was dark and though the driver was cautious at the intersections, we flew north. It was actually very incredible, speeding under the stars in the back of a truck. He stopped a block away from my apartment. After thanking him profusely, my co-workers and I hopped off to hear him say, “Let’s do this again sometime soon.” We all laughed.

I was able to drive my friends home. Afterwards, my roommate and I cruised around in my car, listening to the radio, and looking at Manhattan – completely dark. People were out, having parties, having a good time. In Harlem, a guy brought out his violin and then his neighbors grabbed their instruments and they had a jam session right there on the street. We had a block party on my street.

I had another feeling of déjà vu. For the second time since I moved up here, I remembered how we cope with bad situations. For the millionth time, I felt proud of my city and more connected to it. Though I had a very restless night and the lights didn’t come back on for another day and a half in my apartment, I really can only remember the blackout with a smile on my face.

After all, I got to see the stars shining over Manhattan. How often does one get to say that?

Oh, and a free wine glass.