There is only one common sense solution to end the carnage. Gun Control. Sensible gun laws.
And it also is damn time some of these irresponsible politicians, and yeah, I’m talking to you Palin, and you Bachmann, and you Steven King, and a whole host of other primarily in the GOP) stop preaching hate and pretending you stand for freedom and the American way. You don’t. You are evil. Go to hell where you belong.
This rant was inspired by today’s shooting in Wisconsin.
Some tasks only seem Herculean at first glance. Then they become impossible. Take the one I got this morning.
“You gotta help me with this, Elyse,” said Robert, our Human Resources Manager. “I spent the better part of a year editing and improving this, and still nobody will read it.”
“It’s our Employee Manual, Robert. Of course nobody will read it.”
“But they need to read it,” he said. “Otherwise the staff won’t know when they’re breaking rules.”
I stared back at him blankly. “I’ll see what I can do,” I said, thumbing through the four-inch binder for the first time myself.
“Give it some pizzazz, make is shoot off the page. You know, Jazz it up!”
“Robert,” I said, holding up the tome, “this is the written equivalent of Muzak. Elevator music. It cannot be jazzed up!”
He looked so pitiful that I added, “I’ll see what I can do.” Guilt gets me every time.
Robert left my office, and I plopped the Manual down on my desk and ignored it. It was an impossible task. So I clicked on the internets to gear myself up for drudge work.
And what to my wondering eyes should appear? Someone else was working on their office manual and making recommendations! Seriously! I couldn’t believe my luck. I knew that all I had to do was add this information to the front of the Manual and it would certainly capture everybody’s attention. Yes, I can follow the lead of the City of Houston Mayor’s Office of Public Safety and Homeland Security! That’s how I can jazz up our company manual. I’ll include information on “Surviving an Active Shooter Event!”
That will certainly catch that unsuspecting new employee’s interest!
Whoo-hoo! “I am so underpaid,” I thought.
Don’t you think this is a wise prep for life in today’s workplace? Shouldn’t we all be trained to “Run. Hide. Fight”? I don’t know about you, but “Duck and Cover” served me really well way back when. And nothing at all happened to me then. So clearly these Public Service Announcements work.
That’s all you need, isn’t it? Isn’t it?
Or did I get that moral wrong? I’m trying to remember what happened. Let’s see. Duck and Cover. Duck and Cover. Oh yeah. That came out after the Soviet Union developed its first nuke! Whenthey could hit us with one too! Me, I got my exposure to it during the Cuban Missile Crisis in October of 1962 when the threat of nuclear war was real. Funny thing, though. Duck and Cover was actually wayless effective than President Kennedy’s blockade.
And what has happened since?
Hmmm. Let me think. We and the Soviet Union (now Russia, in case you missed something) have been behaving ourselves, more or less. Nuke-wise, anyway. Because a nuclear war? That’s unthinkable. We all know that.
You know what else is unthinkable? Random gun violence every day in America. It is unthinkable that we have to worry every day that some crazy person is going to come into our offices, our schools and our movie theaters and start shooting. And that others will defend their “freedom” to do so.
Just like governments have learned how to co-exist with nuclear weapons, we need to figure out how to get along with guns (because they, sadly, ain’t goin’ away) but without gun violence. To me that means we need fewer guns, especially fewer of the sort that can shoot and kill lots of folks without much effort. But I am willing to compromise.
Because these other precautions? They are closing the barn door after the horse has run out; and I for one am tired of beating that dead horse.
I just read that the Washington, DC, metropolitan area is tops! As in Numero Uno. Better than second and third place winners, Denver and Chicago. We are the Champions!
Tuesday evening, just before 7, a huge tree fell half a mile from where I once lived. A man, who seconds before had been simply sitting in traffic, died when the tree crashed down on him as he sat in his car. It was a tragedy that could happen to any one at any time. Unexpected.
Photo Fairfax Police courtesy of The Washington Post
What happened next? Well, the tree’s twin across the way was cut down. Arborists are looking at nearby old, big trees, checking their health, determining if these trees, too, are dangerous. If so, they will be cut.
Of course that’s what they’re doing.
They are protecting human life. It’s the logical next step following such a tragedy. Of course, there will be traffic snarls and hassles as the old diseased trees are culled. It will be a huge pain for commuters. But, you know, that’s OK. I and just about everybody accepts a bit of inconvenience if it means that someone else won’t die. (Which doesn’t mean we won’t all grumble, natch.)
It’s the same with other stuff, too.
In the 60s and 70s, it became clear that fatalities in automobile accidents could be prevented by using seat belts. They became mandatory after a series of Swedish studies demonstrated that fatalities were dramatically reduced when car occupants involved in an accident had buckled up. Seat belts protect folks. Last year in this post I provided some statistics on the benefits of seat belts:
The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration’s latest statistics state that 15,147 Americans survived accidents in 2007 that would have been fatal without seat belts. That’s a lot of people saved by a law that doesn’t really inconvenience us all that much.
We do a lot of things to keep ourselves and our families safe. Of course we do. And when the danger comes from the unknown? Well, that’s when we ratchet up our actions to protect ourselves. It’s common sense.
Remember the Tylenol Murders? Twenty years ago, Tylenol, laced with cyanide, killed seven people in the Chicago area. The murders were never solved. But they did change our lives. Every time I struggle to open a package of virtually anything purchased in the United States, I think of that bastard, those murders. I hope he/she has a horrible case of rheumatoid arthritis in his/her hands and therefore has even more trouble opening those damn packages than the rest of us. I also hope they catch him/her.
It’s common sense to react protectively, isn’t it. It’s what we do as a species. It’s part of our evolutionary trajectory. It is the manifestation of the problem solver in all of us. Stay alive. Protect. Survive.
Well, that’s usually true.
Unless, of course, there is a random lunatic with a gun. Then, well, logic and common sense are suspended as we all enter the Twilight Zone.
Yes, when a guy (and they do all seem to be guys) who gets a bunch of guns (as in lethal weapons) and kills people, randomly, or by specifically targeting individuals, well then we double down on the 2nd Amendment. WE PROTECT HIS RIGHT TO DO IT! We let it happen again. And then, when it happens again, we are shocked, shocked.
Yup, when we should be shouting “STOP THIS MADNESS!” we instead cow-tow to the National Rifle Association and to the cowboys who are oh-so-sure that if they had only been there with their gun, well, then the outcome would be way different. If only ….
Bullshit. It is a fantasy.
Remember when Congresswoman Gabby Giffords was shot? Nineteen people were shot that day at a local grocery story when a crazy person opened fire.
Did you know that seconds/minutes after the shooting, a man carrying his own gun came out of the store and saw somebody holding a gun on a man? Yeah, it’s true. Here’s a smidge of the story:
[Joe] Zamudio was in a nearby drug store when the shooting began, and he was armed. He ran to the scene and helped subdue the killer. Television interviewers are celebrating his courage, and pro-gun blogs are touting his equipment. “Bystander Says Carrying Gun Prompted Him to Help,” says the headline in the Wall Street Journal.
But before we embrace Zamudio’s brave intervention as proof of the value of being armed, let’s hear the whole story. “I came out of that store, I clicked the safety off, and I was ready,” he explained on Fox and Friends. “I had my hand on my gun. I had it in my jacket pocket here. And I came around the corner like this.” Zamudio demonstrated how his shooting hand was wrapped around the weapon, poised to draw and fire. As he rounded the corner, he saw a man holding a gun. “And that’s who I at first thought was the shooter,” Zamudio recalled. “I told him to ‘Drop it, drop it!'”
But the man with the gun wasn’t the shooter. He had wrested the gun away from the shooter. “Had you shot that guy, it would have been a big, fat mess,” the interviewer pointed out.
Yeah. A big, fat mess. Mr. Zamudi would have added to the carnage, not helped. BECAUSE HE DIDN’T KNOW WHAT WAS GOING ON.
When a tragedy like today’s shooting in Aurora, Colorado, happens, there is only one person who knows pretty much what’s happening – the shooter. Yeah, the bad guy. Everybody else is reacting.
And no matter how cool, how brave, how well meaning a would be hero is in a situation, the sane gun owner is unlikely to shoot first. And if he/she doesn’t, the bad guy will. And unlike in the movies, in real life, you can’t just get back up.
It is really time that we all just accept the passing of the Cowboy Era. We have accepted other similar passings: The Middle Ages, The Age of Kings, The Age of Exploration. The Teen Years. Besides, the last gunfight at the OK Corral happened already. You missed it. Get over it. Move on.
How many more massacres are we going to allow before we stop folks from buying assault weapons, multiple guns that can kill multiple people? How many more deaths will it take?
We changed how every item we use every single day is packaged. Because of SEVEN deaths from tainted Tylenol. We took action to prevent the eighth and the eighth didn’t happen.
What’s the death toll from these random acts of violence with guns? At last count, it was, ummm, more than twelve. And that’s just for today.
What will it take for us to come to our senses?
Mr. Saturday night special
Got a barrel that’s blue and cold Ain’t no good for nothin’ But put a man six feet in a hole
Sigh. The guilt. The knot in my stomach. The heartache of knowing that I am an inadequate mother.
No, I didn’t forget my child on the roof of the car. I did not sell him into child pornography or child slavery. I did not force him to converse with me only in Pig-Latin so that his classmates would laugh at him when he started school.
Nope. I failed in a much more important way.
Birthday parties.
Maybe it is just that I became a parent too soon. Maybe there is still time to discover a spacial anomaly that will allow us to remedy the situation. So that we could once again hold our heads high with the other parents who hosted birthday parties for their equally indulged children. Sigh.
We had fun. Or so I thought.
When Jacob was young, we had a swimming pool. And so we had lovely gatherings for dozens of friends with everybody in the pool. I was young enough then to even appear in front of my friends in a bathing suit.
As he aged, we progressed to other types of parties. We had one at an indoor playground with tunnels and ball pits and slides and pizza. We did bowling and laser tag. All with pizza.
It’s true that unlike a classmate of Jacob’s in 1st grade we did not hold his 7th birthday party in one of the fanciest hotels in Geneva, Switzerland, as did one of his classmates. It was quite a doo, actually, with waitresses in little French maid outfits carrying silver trays full of, yeah, pizza. (I’ve always wondered where they’ll hold her wedding.) But Jacob is a boy, and didn’t care a hoot about fancy-schmancy.
Once we had Jacob’s birthday party at a skateboard rink; helmets and pads were required. We indulgent parents want to keep everybody safe, and bubble wrap tends to be somewhat suffocating. We served Pizza, natch.
We only had one real disaster. And that was when the day before Jacob’s 13th birthday party, which had been postponed, John was called out of the country for an emergency meeting. Jacob has never recovered. “Dad missed my 13th Birthday Party,” he sniffed, just this evening.
I thought that was the worst possible child’s birthday fiasco imaginable in an age where parties aren’t done at home, and really all parents need to do is write a check. It’s hard to go too wrong unless the check bounces.
I thought that until today, anyway.
That’s when I learned that there is a whole new type of kids birthday party that will, well, blow away the competition! And we missed it. Sigh. We were simply born too soon.
And, of course, as in so very many things, Texas is leading the way. You see, a Texas gun range will be hosting birthday parties for children as young as 8 years old!
“I don’t know whether anyone has ever tried this before,” said David Prince, who is building the indoor gun range.
Personally, I myself, cannot imagine why no one has ever thought of arming children with lethal weapons, filling them with soda and candy and pizza and letting them go at it. What could be more fun?
Mr. Prince did mention that lots of staff will be around to “help parents supervise.” Boy, that’s a relief.
Because supervising kids parties isn’t really as easy as it sounds. That bowling party Jacob had when he was 8? There were heavy balls falling too close to kids feet, there were shoe rentals (and the fact 8 year olds never know their size) the drinks and snacks to be ordered and kept off the special floor. It’s complicated.
“We’re not just going to have kids running around waving loaded guns and shooting at piñatas,” said Prince, an accountant and gun enthusiast.
Yup, staff assistance will be available. This is handy, natch, when lethal weapons are involved; I’d say it’s worth at least an extra $5, easy. Perhaps an extra $20 if no one dies.
But you know, I imagine that the release form will be a bit intimidating for the parents who actually like their kids:
Yes, I agree to hold Bubba’s Bullet and Billetharmless, in the event that someone blows my 8-year-old child’s head off.
Nevertheless, I think that it’s good to know that entrepreneurs are developing better ways for parents to get a bang for their birthday bucks.
I just hope the staff is good at distinguishing between pizza stains and blood.
FiftyFourandAHalf 