I had a brilliant post about Paris in my head. Okay, so, admittedly it was only half-formed but it eloquently spoke to my passion for my third-favorite city (behind NYC and DC) and spoke of the too-few times I’d spent in the City Of Lights and its surroundings. Really, it was beautiful. Not quite as beautiful and the Louvre. As the Champs-Elysees. The Place de la Concorde. The Tuileries. The Musee d’Orsay. But, still, beautiful.
The cliche is that people left their heart in San Francisco. While the sourdough is good, I took my heart back with me the several times I visited. But I think I truly left a small part of my heart in Paris the two times I visited. And that small part of my heart was broken by the fucking awful shit that went down last Friday.
We’re too old and fragile for this shit, no matter how youthful we may look. We’re citizens of this planet and after thousands of years we should know better. I know I shouldn’t expect better in a world in which Donald Trump is the GOP front-runner, in which planes are blown out of the sky by extremists with TNT and a soda can, and airliners bring two towers down and a country to its knees. But I’m a human. I’m an optimist. I hope for better and am dismayed when my expectations aren’t met.
At some point we’re going to discover that we’re all each other have. I wish that point was tomorrow, rather than lifetimes away. But I fear it the last, not the first.
We need to stand up to this shit. We all – every single fucking one of us – needs to not put up with this. We need to talk, argue, fight, react, and hold each other accountable for the greatness, the hate, the terror, the kindness, the love that we share and spread. Only then will the cowards realize they’re cowards. Only then will the brave see the realization of their fight. Only then will there be peace.
We will always have Paris. Don’t let that mean nothing.