It's The Ideology

It wasn’t a gun.  It wasn’t a bomb. It wasn’t a machete.   It was a truck.  2 -3 minutes.  84 now dead, including 10 children. Do you understand now? It’s not the weapon.  It’s the ideology. ~  A viral Facebook post.

I’ve had an epiphany. Yes, I totally understand now.  If someone with a twisted ideology or some random radical Islamist wants to take out a crowd of people then he’ll find a way.  It might be fertilizer rife with ammonium nitrate, it might be a box cutter, it might be a baseball bat (as happened in Deltona Florida in 2004) or it might be a simple kitchen knife as happened in Osaka in 2001.  Most recently of course, it was a truck.  "Where there's a will, there's a way," goes the old saw.

140 Characters and a Meme

We’re two weeks removed from our nation’s 240^th Independence Day and the founders' great experiment is experiencing an upheaval unlike any that I can recall since the protests of the Vietnam War over 40 years ago. 

Over two centuries ago, America was the revolutionary undertaking that a doubting old world viewed with a bemused expectation of imminent collapse. For more than two centuries America has weathered the storms of war, strife, corruption and a temporary sundering. It's managed to put some issues behind it. But one issue, one wound will not heal. Whenever we think that the scab might fall off we manage to pick it and open the lesion afresh. It's our trauma that's scarred the nation since before it was a nation. 

It's the can that the founders and their successors managed to kick down the national road for over 200 years.  And once again, for that umpteenth time, we stand with that can before us with the decision to pick it up and finally dispense with it or kick it for another generation to deal with.  That can is of course race relations and the can kickers have been our nations leaders; by and large old white guys. The original can kickers couldn't come to agreement despite their reputation for being enlightened and ahead of their time. 

Armed and Stupid

October 28^th, 1880.  A group of rowdies, loosened up with whiskey and high spirits decided it would be a fine night to shoot their guns into the air.  Fred White, the town marshal didn’t figure that rousting the townies with gunplay was a great idea and so he moved to put a stop to the festivities.  He found one of the men in a vacant lot and confronted him, “I am an officer, give me your pistol.”  White grabbed the barrel of the gun held by Curly Bill Brocious.  When Curly Bill didn’t immediately comply White yelled, “Now you god-damned son of a bitch, give me that gun.  White jerked on the barrel and the gun discharged sending a bullet into White’s groin, the muzzle blast setting his clothing on fire.  Almost immediately Curly Bill was sent to the ground, struck in the head by a pistol wielded by Wyatt Earp.  Two days later Fred White, age 32, died of his wound.  As a result of White’s death, an ordinance was passed by the town council prohibiting the carrying of deadly weapons in Tombstone, Arizona. 

June 2014 and Americans are strutting the streets carrying guns; holstered pistols and long guns (often assault type rifles) slung over their shoulders; they are in wild west parlance “heeled.”  I’d like to say that we’ve come a long way in 134 years – but we apparently haven’t.  In the wake of increasing mass shootings businesses have had to do what lawmakers lack the testicular fortitude to do.  They are banning the carrying of weapons on their premises.  Starbucks, Chilis, Sonic, Jack in the Box and Chipotle have all adopted policies banning the carrying of long guns into their stores.  The latest battleground is Target.  A group called Moms Demand Action for Gun Sense is circulating a petition asking that the store ban the carrying of weapons into their stores after an armed group called Open Carry Texas walked through a store. Could it be that the gun nuts locked on to the name Target and figured this must the place “fer bringin’ yer fowlin’ piece to?”  No Billy Bob, that’s not what they had in mind when they named the place TARGET. 

Warning: It's Almost Fall

Summer's almost gone       

Summer's almost gone

We had some good times

But they're gone

The winter's comin' on

Summer's almost gone

~ The Doors

“If cross country were easy it would be called football.” ~ Slogan on the backs of many cross country team shirts.

Am I ready for some football?  Well - no.   America is all a twitter, sports talk show hosts are ecstatic and television network and National Football League execs are just beginning a 5 month long fiscal orgasm (For those readers outside of the USA, I’m speaking of American football as opposed to futbol/soccer). 

American football is an absolute dollarific orgy.  On average the 32 NFL teams are worth $1.17 billion dollars each.  The average revenue per team last year was $286 million dollars.  Broadcast revenue from the networks for the current contract, now in its final year, averages $1.9 billion per year.  The new contract starting in 2014 will average $3.1 billion per year.  These are just a few of the bank account boggling figures.  And this doesn't even count the gambling money exchanged – both legal and not. 

What's Happened Here?

When did it all change?  Why did it all change?  How did it all change so much?  I grew up in the suburbs of San Mateo.  It was a middle class neighborhood in the hills above the town, on the San Francisco Bay Peninsula, about 30 minutes south of San Francisco itself.  It was the fifties and sixties; a time when we boomers lived the American Dream defined by well-manicured lawns, ranch style homes and the notion that we, the children, would live in a better America. 

Reflecting on Tragedy

Shifting emotions on Friday evening’s drive home; grief, rage, confusion.  Trying to digest the news out of Newtown, Connecticut.  Looking for sense in a landscape of senselessness. 

I’d been in meetings during much of the day.  Getting back to my office a co-worker told me of the news; she’d been at her desk bawling as she read the news.  I took a quick look at a report and didn’t realize the severity of what had unfolded.  Another killing - back to work.