Death in the Family
A few months ago the father of my close friends died. Our parents raised us together, me and a pair of twins, a boy and a girl (I’ll call them Rachel and Charles) and I’m so grateful for them. We lived on opposite sides of […]
Tag: death
I Wish Depression Wasn’t Real
I hate that depression is a thing. Last week when Cindy posted about possibly being depressed I cringed a bit at the word, feeling fairly confident that Cindy’s low mood was just that, a bit of a down time in a lifetime of millions of […]
Surgeon General’s Warning: Moral Suasion to Reduce Gun Violence
“My only influence was through moral suasion,” said the late C. Everett Koop, America’s highest profile surgeon general, who with little more than a warning convinced a nation to rally against smoking. He made no new laws, searched no homes and attacked no amendments and yet drastically improved the health of our nation.
And therein lies the solution to our gun violence problem.
In a manner akin to the anti-smoking campaigns we have so effectively waged, the American populace needs to wage a marketing campaign against guns; Fewer Guns Equals Fewer Deaths.
No new laws need be enacted. The 2nd amendment will not be threatened. No new government programs are required. All we have to do is use a little moral suasion.
I’m sure talented individuals are hard at work already, harnessing the extensive network of progressive non-profits standing by, but don’t worry Duck Dynasty fans, this won’t be a crusade on ALL guns. If you’re a hunter, go for it. Panicked we’ll take down the 2nd amendment? Like I said before, we’re leaving laws alone. Afraid we’ll melt down your heirloom for a plowshare? Your antiques can rest easy, though keep in mind your gun is more than a piece of art, a well-made tool or a classic car. Your gun is a deadly weapon and all we want to do is make sure everyone understands that.
Here is an ad from my local newspaper last month. The Valentine’s Special at the gun range:
”Sure love is thrilling, but wait until you experience the thrill of shooting one of our new, high tech machine guns.”
Many folks, including myself, would likely enjoy vaporizing a target on a Saturday date night, but is that thrill worth the cost? Selling guns as a Big Boy Toy is the single biggest mistake we are making concerning our efforts to reduce gun violence. The more hip guns are, the more go into circulation and the more people get a hold of them who shouldn’t. I don’t know about you, but I can think of plenty of other ways to have fun. Got Sense? Get a New Hobby.
Convinced you need a gun to protect yourself? Be armed if you must, I do not know your situation. But again, be aware your choice comes at a cost greater than yourself. Perhaps you, of course, are an excellent example of a responsible deadly weapon owner, but when your friends and acquaintances try to follow suit are you sure they’ll be up to the task? If you wouldn’t trust your neighbor with your grill, would you trust him with a gun? Guns are like a prescription drug, easily abused and riddled with side effects.
I trust my friends, you say, together we’ll stop the bad guys. But you must know guns create thousands of unintended criminals who fire in a moment of anger, by mistake or simply out of curiosity. Just today a drunk kid was killed for accidentally coming home to the wrong house. I’d rather lose all my possessions than be responsible for the death of a child- no matter how guilty I think him to be. But guns don’t kill people, people kill people, you say. And you’re right, people who want to cause harm always will. But the more guns around, the more folks get their hands on one, simple as that. Just Say No to Guns.
Wait, you protest, it’s our responsibility to defend ourselves against foreign invasion or the US government itself. Sorry folks, the romanticized days of Western gun slingers are long gone and revolution takes decades. If you think the American populace is going to give up their weekly TV show for a principled stand you better start working on your ark as well. American Idol, My Anti-Gun.
What we need is to start talking. Gun violence has become an epidemic that we’ve refused to admit needs treatment. Now is the time to show the nation guns aren’t cool (Utah has a new app for that), that owning a gun has serious side effects for yourself and the people closest to you. If you feel the need to keep firearms, fine, we’ll trust you to dedicate the appropriate time to their responsible use and storage. But do not be so brash as think you are doing the rest of us a favor. It’s time for guns to be seen for what they are: dangerous diversions. If we have campaigns against smoking, driving drunk, obesity, and teenage pregnancy then surely we can afford to use a little moral suasion to get guns out of date night.
Live Long and Prosper
So I’ve faced mortality this week. A whole boatload of it. And to be honest I’m not sure what I’ve learned. Or how I feel. Hopefully we’ll figure something out together. It began with putting our family dog down on Saturday. Rhoda is (was) our […]
Sundance 2013
Wow. Where to start… The last week has been insanely hard on me. My feet are covered in blisters, I can barely keep my eyes open, and there were moments where I felt so inconsequential it was heart breaking. But this week was also incredible; […]
El Postido
If you haven’t gotten the point by now; I’m loving living at home. There are tons of expected perks (free food, rent, an endless supply of craft supplies) but there have been even more unexpected ones too, like my mother waking up early to hug me goodbye in the morning and my dad’s spontaneous engineering projects (let’s see what we can build from only craigslist materials!). Hell I don’t even do much laundry and sometimes they slip me a 20 just for being around. Yup, life is good, and there ain’t no way I’m moving out anytime soon. So I was all the more surprised when my dad caught me off guard the other night with a bit of bad news.
“Sleeping Booty,” he said (okay he didn’t really call me that, but go with me here). “Sleeping Booty, so can I tell you what’s really been making me stressed this week?” It was about 11:30pm on a Thursday, and we were just leaving The Pub, the place he and his basketball team have gone after every game for the last 20 years. I’ve gone watched him play for as long as I can remember, but in the last few years I’ve started tagging along to sip a few beers with my team of crazy uncles and hear stories about the good old days. This time they spent most of the night giving me crap for living at home and working with my dad, but we also got to hear some sordid stories from “El Postido,” their 55-year-old Latino point guard who’s only a few months from retiring from his 30 year run as a mail-man(hence Postido). It’s an outstanding group, and I know that they’re still together is one of the greatest joys of my dad’s life.
I was apprehensive as I nodded and waited for him to finish. I knew he’d had a rough week writing employee reviews, but in his slightly intoxicated state I was worried what he’d reveal. “My health,” he said defeated, “it’s not as good as I want it to be.” Guys, let me tell you, that is the worst sentence you can ever utter to your family and one of the scariest to hear. I held it together because I wanted to know what was going on, but had I been the one drinking instead of him I would have lost it, most likely taking off in a full on sprint.
Thankfully, it isn’t the worst case scenario like I thought. He’s more worried about the general pitfalls of getting older and letting down his team. He hurt his hand in a game last week and is afraid to tell the guys the swelling hasn’t gone down. He also has been having neck problems that just won’t quit and when he turns his head certain ways the nerves in his arm tingle.
Now really, he’s fine; no cancer, no degeneration, no hospitals. But this idea of my father generally wearing out hit a nerve with me. And it didn’t help that I had just read an article about taller people’s likelihood of dying young. My mind raced the entire car ride home, what if he has a stroke and has to relearn everything? What if he can’t be active with his friends? What if my kids don’t get to meet him? When did I start worrying about him like I am responsible?
I know I’m overreacting; his dad is a few days from celebrating his 99th birthday for crying out loud. He’s probably going to be the bane of my existence until I’m 75. Really, I’ve got nothing to worry about.
But I’m starting to understand why my mom is still so upset about her dad’s death a few months ago. A world without my dad just seems unacceptable, like it wouldn’t function properly. What would his friends do? How would they replace him at work? Why would I ever get out of bed? It is hard to imagine all the people that wouldn’t get to know him.
Maybe I would be better off taking the ‘out of sight out of mind’ approach, moving out and just hearing about the highlights over the phone. He’s had knee trouble before, and I didn’t worry at all; it sure is easier that way. But this time I’m front and center and he’s got no time to hide or distance to soften the blows. Even with my mom things are different, suddenly I’m ‘great at keeping secrets’ and ‘just the person’ she can say things to. I never used to be the one she shared things with, but now I’m mostly grown, trying to help with things I never expected. I like it, but sometimes, you know, I’m just dealing with things way beyond my maturity level. This is a whole new dynamic, seeing a vulnerable side to my parents, one that I’m not sure I’m ready for.
So when did I become 24, watching my dog hop around on 3 paws, hearing about my mother’s insecurities and seeing the tears in my dad’s eyes as he thinks about letting down his team? Living at home is hard, and part of my wants to go back to just being their daughter (much more time to listen to my 90’s albums). But then again, I know I’m going to look back on this in a few years and be so glad I spent this time with my parents. Because for the first time I’m getting to know them as people and not just the caretakers I used to need.
p.s. El Postido totally got invited in by an open-robed postal patron. Rumors have to come from somewhere.
Yes, I’m living at home and unemployed. Deal with it.
Alright, I’m just going to lay it all out there. I moved back in with my parents and am an unemployed college graduate with no plan. There. Now you know. A few weeks ago I would have stretched the truth and told you that I […]