Memoirous

What Time Is It? Once upon a time I heard this story: In a small town at 12 noon the fire house always tested its emergency siren, you know blowing out the cobwebs and making sure everything worked—in case there was an emergency. Also at 12 noon the bells in the carillon began to play. At the diner the waitress dropped another pot of coffee for the lunch time crowd. And, at the local school the children were excited for lunch and recess, which happened at 12 noon. In a way the whole town moved in a type of ballet, all doing their individual routines in synch with each other, according to the clock. Then one day the announcer at the local radio station was set to retire. For thirty or so years she had sat at her desk reading the news, time, and temperature and playing records. At her retirement party the whole town came to wish her well. As they sat around chatting the fire chief and priest and the owner of the diner all lamented to her that they would miss ...

Dangerous people rarely look the way we expect . . . is how Roxanne Gay (someone whom I read whenever I can) began her article at Salon.com "Time and again, the word “normal” comes up." Her editorial isn't so much about the Rolling Stone cover story as about the Rolling Stone cover. It is about--who is America, me, you, us afraid of. Seldom have iconic images such as the above caused so much controversy. May the discussion begin--and continue.