Ignorance, a New Yorker's Bliss?

Everyone says our world has changed since 9/11, and though we may find proof of this change in the tight airport security and in the sad stories left behind, for the majority of us west coaster’s the change is more subtle.
Recently I visited New York City. It was my first time in New York, my first trip to Central Park, my first Broadway musical, the first major trip I’d been on with no adults, my first time in the Today Show audience, and the first time I had been to the east coast in March.
On my trip I shortly learned that the vast majority of New Yorker’s sought to do their own thing but were always happy to help, people on the east coast fold their pizza and eat it, Wal-Mart’s and Albertson’s are sparse, and even during a fun event like the St. Patrick’s Day Parade the repercussions of 9/11 are felt.
It was crisp and chilly in just the right way. The sun was smiling down on a city of drunks, as 8 a.m. is as intense as the drinker’s 10 p.m. on St. Patrick’s Day. Three girls walked down the crowded streets, making our way through the stench of bear and smoke. Beyond the crowds the parade was glorious. Now, I’m not a die hard parade fan, and the amusement of the loud instruments and impressive marching formations can only sustain me for so long, but regardless it was an event worth being noted. Most just lined the streets as an excuse to be in a place where they don’t have to drink alone, and others were trying to have a family day amidst the annoyances. But in reality, the event was fairly innocent, it was happy, and it was well deserved for the overworked city of New York. Even the George Clooney-like business men in their festive mint colored ties, managed to stop for a second of their time and marvel the magic of the day.
It was a day that, for most, was not thought of as a reminder of the tragedies felt just five years ago, a day that was thought of to celebrate, if anything, just life.
I stood there in my Black Pea Coat and spotted mittens, and felt the chilling air freeze up all the moisture in my eyes. I stood there in stupid dusty sneakers that did not match the rest of me and marveled at how small I was. With a stretch and a yawn my eyes left the parade, and looked up…then up…to the tip on the beige sky scraper that peered down at me. Nestled in a corner was the long black bar of a sniper, pointed, aimed, ready to fire at anyone who disturbed this scene. My heart stopped, my eyes had to re-blink, where I’m from they don’t even have snipers. Why do they even need one? I knew why they needed one, but I didn’t want to remind myself, I decided better yet would be to meld into this crowd of oblivion. Better yet would be to dismiss this, temporarily resulting to an American ignorance, to let go of the newly surged fear, and to enjoy a day, that only God can bring to a tomorrow.