September 10, 2006
by Scott A. Sandage
When the first plane struck, I was in my Pittsburgh apartment writing a conference paper on images of failure in popular music. My mother phoned: big jet crash, turn on CNN. “I’ll have to skip this one,” I said. “I’m working.” Minutes later, I cut off a neighbor and then a colleague who rang in quick succession. When my spouse called with news of the second plane, I finally clicked the television and quit dylanloser.doc, “The Loser Now Will Be Lat