I'm not as good as I used to be at keeping this blog up. Part of that is social media. Some of my rants don't even warrant the full 140-character allotment Twitter affords us. Perhaps it's because of the microblog tools like Twitter, or the picture/caption ability of (my personal favorite channel) Instagram, that I tend to only use the blog for longer bits.
It's interesting, though: over the course of the past 10 years, our online lives have shifted. Some people are basically live-tweeting their lives. Others use social channels purely to troll, getting a rise out of getting a rise in others.
None of the social media channels we use regularly even existed on 9/11. I'm not even sure I had a texting plan on 9/11. Imagine that. That said, it also means while there is a large media archive of events from the day, we lack a passive archive of individual accounts of the day. If something happens today, there's a hashtag to search and you're suddenly at ground level of any event, anywhere in the world. Even the eventual raid on bin Laden's Abbotabad compound was live-tweeted.
Not the case with 9/11. Unfortunately, the email I sent to friends and family after finally making it home that day has been lost to the ether. It detailed my entire day and, if you;re reading this and you happen to have it tucked away in the bowels of your email, please do forward it to me (if I sent it to you, you most certainly have the ability to get in touch with me on a variety of social channels to get my email address).
Anyhow, I have written on this blog about my thoughts on the politics of the day and about the need to not memorialize quite the way we do. But, I've never written down the details of my day. And I probably should while I'm on the young side of 40. So, come back with me to the morning of Tuesday, Sept. 11, 2001.