I was never going to write this story. Over the years I’ve told it to some friends, and always in a low voice, not sure about how they’d react.
But now I’m in lockdown in London over this coronavirus crisis, and suddenly this story is knocking on the door of my mental attic, begging to be released.
It happened almost nineteen years ago, soon after the 9/11 attacks. I was living in Greenwich Village and for days on end I kept the windows of my apartment shut to repel a horrible burning smell from the wreckage of the twin towers, just a mile or so downtown.
It seemed like that fire would burn forever.
Like everybody else in New York City, I was stunned. How could this happen here? What’s next?
Well, “next” was a notification from Time Warner Cable, about two weeks after the attack. My cable had gone out a few days before 9/11, and I’d called for a repairman, but that was before the world turned upside-down. Of course all repairs had been delayed when the crisis hit, but now at last a cable guy was on his way to my house.
He was young, smart and energetic. Think Chris Rock with a toolbox, and that’s who showed up to fix my cable.
He knelt in front of the TV to fiddle around with my cable box, then took a long breath before turning to face me.
“Now, I’ve got to tell you something terrible,” he said, quite dramatically.
And I thought: I’m about to be hit with a whopper of a repair bill, but so what? I don’t care what it costs. Three thousand people just lost their lives down the street! That’s all that counts! This problem is nothing, no matter what it is!
“Okay,” I said, “what’s the terrible thing?”
He looked left and right, the way someone does when they’re about to tell an off-color joke. “With those towers gone,” he said, “you’re gonna get the best picture you ever seen.”
Before I could respond he turned the TV on. Damn if it wasn’t the cleanest, sharpest picture I’d ever seen.
“See that?” the repairman said. “Those towers been hoggin’ the signals for thirty years!”
What could I say, what could I do? I just stood there, holding my breath.
Then I laughed.
Not because I thought it was funny. Jesus, nothing was funny in those days after 9/11. I guess I was reacting to the insanity of the way the world works, and doesn’t work, but keeps on going, no matter what. Just like it’ll keep on going this time, no matter how this coronavirus crisis plays out.
Guess you could say the little picture on my TV screen showed me the big picture overall.
By the way, there was no charge for the TV repair. I tipped the cable guy five bucks. Wish I’d made it ten.
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