Are we a nation of narcissists? Julie Crysler thinks so. I happened across an op-ed piece written by this Toronto journalist in The Gazette while visiting Montreal last week.

The headline pretty much said it all: A Nation of Narcissists, accompanied by a large black and white photo of an American waving a flag as a plane loaded with passengers takes off several days following the Sept. 11 tragedy. But it was the stinging subhead that summed it up even more: America’s been wallowing in self-pity and grief since Sept. 11. Enough already; it’s time they got over it.

That was enough to lure me in.

I skipped over Crysler’s sentences with an open mind, and after the initial reading, set it aside — not knowing quite what to make of it. The next day I perused it again, finding many of her observations somewhat disturbing:

“The public display of grief quickly took on a new form, and I’m not just talking about those garish designer pants spangled with stars and stripes. The sweeping melodies laid over slo-mo firefighters, the grave faces of pop stars at benefit concerts and the sanctimonious pronouncements of Tom Cruise seemed calculated to create the same kind of emotional response you get watching long distance commercials and Bette Midler movies.”

OK, I admit that Old Glory ain’t all that flattering plastered over my non-size 6 derriere. In fact, any type of flag apparel makes me cringe. But I’m drawn to those slo-mo firefighter scenes accompanied by eerily dramatic music; I watched, taped and donated to the 9/11 benefit concert that included some fine music and commentary; and why shouldn’t Tom Cruise have his say?

I do understand Ms. Crysler’s comical criticisms of the above mentioned items, but she quickly shed her humor and went in for the kill with this tirade:

“Those who lost someone on Sept. 11, actually anyone who’s lost someone recently, they absolutely deserve sympathy and support. But the 53 percent of Americans who, this spring, told University of Michigan researchers that they were feeling so anxious and depressed that they were having trouble concentrating on their work? You people need to get over yourselves.”

Get over ourselves? I for one am not anxious or depressed about 9/11. Sad, yes — but not to the point where I can’t go about my life. If anything, I’m determined to live it with even more gusto than a year ago. And that includes hopping on planes — flying right into the face of evil.

Since 9/11, I’ve taken two dozen round trips in our not so friendly skies. I’ve stood in painfully long lines wondering why we all don’t just stay home; had my bags and body inspected by total strangers; removed my shoes on command by somebody who barely speaks English; and explained to a wand-waving security fellow that yes, I was, in fact, wearing an underwire bra.

But the most bizarre airport request followed a lengthy, two-leg flight back to Seattle last winter. The security agent asked me to take the camera out of my bag, turn it on and hand it over to her. She then proceeded to shoot me — not a pretty sight after eight hours in the sky. I’ve already destroyed the negative.

But it’s one of Crysler’s final observations that really rankled me:

“American exceptionalism has a long history, but it’s taken a new and repellent dimension since last year’s tragedy. It has given new life to the notion of America’s special place in the world, its mission from God, the sense that what happens to America is of cosmic significance.”

I’m writing this the week before 9/11 on a flight from Montreal to Seattle via Vancouver, B.C. The only real threat I’m facing is the overly Opiumed woman who keeps banging on the back of my seat and the repugnant fellow in front of me who’s infringing on my air space. Minor details in the big scheme of things.

Ms. Crysler, you’ve got it all wrong. I think most Americans are doing fairly well 12 months after “you know what” as you so snidely phrased it. We aren’t wallowing in self-pity. We’re not a nation of narcissists. And though we may never “get over it” (let’s hope we don’t), we’re going to be just fine.

It’s time you got over it.

Sue Frause can be reached by e-mail at skfrause@whidbey.com.