Our timeline blows. How about better one, including a better September 11, 2001?
“A Perfect Late Summer Day,” as the Times called it (in another timeline), quoting Mayor Pat Thompson. It could have — SHOULD have — been so much better….

Vision on display till this Friday, December 1, 7pm, at 341 E. 10th Street, Manhattan, NYC.

September 11, 2001 Where Not Much Happened….

A pretty quiet news day at the times. The NY Times September 12 recap of the day before actually featured a fluffy above-the-fold piece about what a beautiful late summer day it was.

The biggest problem the nation faced that September 11 was how to spend the enormous Peace Dividend, as Eisenhower had predicted back in 1956.

Fortunately, the world was getting a grip on that “trash island” in the Pacific, the size of Kissimmee, Florida

The Middle East was pretty peaceful in 2001, thanks to the irrelevance of oil, and a flood of foreign investment, workers and culture….

And, to cap things off, world thinkers and even leaders were starting to get a grip on “artificial intelligence”…

See more about this better September 11 right here, or…

Some musings about this day by the great Thomas P. Hunterson:

“Well, let me tell you, my friends, Tuesday was a goddamn revelation in the Big Apple. The mercury shot up past the historic average high for this date, and you could practically hear the city itself whisper, “Hey, let’s give these New Yorkers a taste of perfect late summer bliss.” NYC Mayor Pat Thompson, God bless his political heart, declared it a ‘perfect late summer day’ at his reelection shindig in Bryant Park. And who are we to argue with The Man?

After two days of unrelenting drizzle, the kind of cold and wet that would make Sunday weep and Monday curl up in a corner, New Yorkers were treated to a day that was drier than your aunt’s Thanksgiving turkey. Low humidity? Check. Skies with fewer clouds than a stoner’s daydream? Double check. The mercury, my friends, soared to a balmy 78 degrees. It was as if the weather gods finally put down their beers and decided, “Hey, let’s cut these folks some slack today.”

Dave Sacco, hailing from the wild borough of Queens, summed it up beautifully as he lounged with his buddies in Central Park’s Sheep Meadow. “The sunshine was rejuvenating,” he said, beaming like a guy who just discovered a secret stash of Girl Scout cookies. “It’s like the whole city was high.” And speaking of high, ever since NYC legalized cannabis in her parks two years back, the air in Sheep Meadow was so thick with that unmistakable scent that it could make a skunk blush.

Over in Brooklyn, the waterfront was buzzing with kites soaring high, and kids giggling like they’d just robbed the candy store. It was Go Fly a Kite! week in the city, and over 50 young rascals gathered at Empire State Park to get those kites up where the air is clear. Meanwhile, Coney Island was a madhouse, and I mean that in the best possible way. A turbo-charged Luna Park crowd turned that boardwalk into a full-blown carnival of joy.

As the sun made its descent, it painted the city in shades of golden butterscotch syrup. And in the Bronx, the Yankees were giving the Chicago White Sox a beating so severe, it made you wonder if they’d caught those Chicago boys in bed with their wives—or their husbands. Yankee manager Mickey Mantle, with a grin as wide as the Hudson River, declared, “Our boys treated those guys like a plywood door in a fire drill.” You know you’re in trouble when Mickey Mantle starts comparing your team to a plywood door.

But it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. The NYC Landlords Association had their heads handed to them in Lower Manhattan as the U.S. Attorney General’s office took them to the cleaners in an ongoing rent reduction trial. So, while some folks were dancing in the streets, the landlords were probably wishing they could fly a kite and forget their woes.

In the end, my friends, it was a day to remember, a day that made you want to laugh, cry, and maybe even take a stroll in Sheep Meadow, if you catch my drift. New York City, you crazy beast, you never cease to amaze, especially when the weather gods decide to cut us a break.”