Someday, sooner or later, the United States of America will have more black and brown ethnic minorities combined than people traditionally considered Caucasian or white. The closest estimate is 2040; the "hold up a sec" estimate is more like 2044.
It's got a bunch of white-supremacist panties in a twist, and certain folks on the left end of the political spectrum are citing the coming demographic change as the main reason that Trump and his lackeys have been so hard on both illegal and legal immigrants...and in some cases, even naturalized citizens.
Me, I hope that all the estimates get blown out of the water and the demo shift happens way sooner. Like in 2035. Or how about 2020? And man, I hope that new majority is ready to unite and hit the ground marching, voting, and working like hell. Because that is the only way all the old white farts are going to vacate the halls of power and let the hoi polloi run the country.
I Remember "Schoolhouse Rock"...
When I was a kid, there were a bunch of 2-minute bits that ran during the commercial breaks between cartoons on Saturday mornings. They were collectively known as "Schoolhouse Rock," and they used catchy tunes and fun animation to teach all kinds of things to kids. Most kids of that generation probably learned the Preamble to the Constitution from "Schoolhouse Rock," along with other parts of American history. Plus, there were new-math hacks, grammar usage, science, money and how it worked...wow. It really was a schoolhouse.
But the segment I remember best was the one called "The Great American Melting Pot." It was all about how America wasn't just colonized by the English, but also by the Spaniards, Dutch, and French...and how, later, other people came from many other places to make a better life here (the nationality that gets the most attention is Polish, but I think that's because one of the creators of SR was of Polish descent). The catchiest scene in the segment is the one from the chorus where the Statue of Liberty opens the book she carries to reveal that it's a cookbook, and the recipe for "America" lists many different nationalities as "ingredients."
I saw that segment recently on DVD, and I started crying...both because it's such a beautiful vision, and because we've stopped living up to it. The ugly things I hear on a regular basis regarding immigrants are things I would never have heard as a kid, even in my racist, nowhere home town.
English Only?
It started with language, back in the late 80's: "Why can't these blankety-blank immigrants speak English, for cripes' sake?" (And nowadays, the complaint is that you have a Spanish-language option when you call a company or agency.) But when you've spoken a language from the time you could first form words, you don't realize how hard it is to learn that same language from scratch as an adult. And the less education you have, the harder it is. And English is a language with so many roots, runners and grafts that it's a wonder anyone who comes here manages to learn it at all!
In fact, only a few languages are harder to learn than American English. Magyar (Hungarian) is one, because unlike the Romance languages (like Spanish, French, and Italian), it has almost no European linguistic connections. It has anywhere from 18 to 35 cases, many derived from Latin, and a number of gutteral sounds that a student would find hard to pronounce. Then there's Welsh--that "ll" is nigh on impossible for an adult student. Mandarin has tonal sounds that are treacherous to navigate; get the wrong one, and you could end up speaking nonsense. Or maybe getting your lights punched out.
And of course, there are also a number of African languages that use elaborate clicks as consonants, one of which--Xhosa--is used as the language of Wakanda, the fictional country that is home to the superhero Black Panther. Another, spoken by the Ju'/Hoansi tribe of the Kalahari desert, was spoken by the hero Xi in "The Gods Must Be Crazy."
If you ever tutor ESL (English as a Second Language), you get to see and hear our newcomers struggle with the confusions of English. No wonder some of them give up and let their children (who have little trouble picking up the new language) act as their interpreters.
It Got Worse...
The nineties were no improvement. The things said about immigrants got worse, and for the first time in my life, I had to provide proof of citizenship when I applied for a job! I needed 2 forms of ID--my birth certificate, and a driver's license or passport. Not having one of the latter, I substituted my voter-registration card, and fortunately that was official enough to pass. (Now you can't even vote with one of them...not unless you also have a photo ID!)
Then came the Twin Towers attack, and suddenly all immigrants were suspect--mostly Muslims, but if you even looked Middle Eastern, you were a candidate for harassment. That was when I first heard "send them back." After that came the groundless rumors that terrorists would pretend to be Mexican and cross our southern border and attack us. And that was when the government started talking about fences and walls.
...And Now, It's Silly, Too!
So, as awful as Trump's verbal scours are, they're nothing new. I've heard it for years.
But now, it's gotten just plain silly, too. Not in the fun sense, but in the "this is brainless and unreasonable" sense.
Folks who were little kids when their parents sneaked in? Just as guilty and worthy of deportation as the parents! Never mind that the kids know nothing of the old country, and they don't speak anything but English--send them back!
People who are here illegally, but they've used their time here to work hard and try to fit in? Out with them! But notice that nobody's raiding the houses of idle white people sitting on their asses and drawing SSI on false pretenses. Or rounding up our home-born homeless and putting them to work picking up trash in exchange for "three hots and a cot." No, that's inhumane...but removing a foreigner from the family who loves him and the employer who values his service apparently isn't.
Oh, and it's okay to separate parents and kids when they're just asking for asylum--they haven't even sneaked in, they just walked up and surrendered to ICE and asked to be admitted legally. Time was, their case would have been reviewed, and they probably would have gotten to stay. Not anymore.
(Oh, and by the way...remember when our department for dealing with immigrants was called INS--Immigration and Naturalization Services? Now it's ICE--Immigration and Customs Enforcement. Aren't those initials friendly-sounding? Well, the new department is every bit as cold as its acronym.)
Hurry up, 2040!
Well, I, for one, am sick and tired of all this bigotry and suspicion. If this is how white people in power are gonna act, then it's high time for us to step aside. We deserve to sink into the quicksand of obscurity and do what we ought to have done all along: pass the reins on to the next qualified person in line, regardless of race, color or creed. I'm betting those qualified folks are all around us.
And if that means I have to learn Spanish as a Second Language, I'm ready.
Sunday, August 4, 2019
Sunday, July 28, 2019
Waking Up In Russia
Just When I Thought It Couldn't Get Any Worse...
This last week, I decided to sleep on my day off...like, almost all day. So I was late getting out to run errands, and when I stopped to buy a newspaper--a rare event these days--I glanced at the headlines and screeched to a halt in mid-step. Because apparently, I had awakened in Russia.
The headline that got my attention was from the "illegals roundup" that happened last weekend, brought to us by Donald Trump and his merry band of ICE-men. The idea was to swoop in, arrest all those evil illegals, and deport them. But in this story, there was an interesting wrinkle: the man in question, who was in his car with his girlfriend and their two kids, was approached by an ICE agent who commanded him to get out of the car. The girlfriend says that the agent never said the name of the man they were looking for, nor did he show a warrant. So the family stayed in their vehicle and kept the windows closed. The ICE agent then broke the car window and dragged the man from the car, while his son screamed for the agent not to take his daddy.
Fortunately, the girlfriend recorded the whole incident on her phone, and it's all over Facebook as I write. Hurrah for her. It's about time we Harold Beale this ugly mess.
This whole business of "rounding up the bad guys" smells like a mid-summer mass fish kill anyway. The media have been reporting on it for weeks, which my paper said was problematic for an operation that relied on "secrecy and surprise." Wow. Can you say "KGB," kiddies? How about "police state"? Or "unconstitutional"? Because, kiddies, breaking a car window and dragging a man out of it without showing a warrant is called "illegal search and seizure," and it's something we're supposed to be protected from by the Fourth Amendment. The fact that the ICE agent did not tell the family who they were looking for is also a red flag--what if they had just been profiling anybody who looked Hispanic?
The ICE maintained that the man was an "immigration fugitive" with "prior misdemeanors." But his biggest crime seems to have been that when he was ordered to leave the country, he kept sneaking back in. My bet is that he didn't want to abandon his family here in the States. And he wasn't a shiftless layabout getting free handouts from the government; he was a chef. Whether that means "high-end fancy cook" or "gourmet burger-flipper" is immaterial--the guy worked to provide for his family. He "took care of business," to quote Chris Rock (who had no love for deadbeat dads). Isn't that the kind of immigrant we want to have living here?
But Donald Trump doesn't see it that way. He wants only people from "good" countries to immigrate to the USA. And if you come from a "shithole country," you can apply to come here, but your request will be shunted to the bottom of the heap. An unskilled laborer will wait decades for even a temporary work visa, even with an employer to sponsor him...and he has to leave voluntarily at the end of his term of work and reapply again!
It gets worse. If you come here illegally, then obey a voluntary deportation order, you can't reapply to enter legally until three years have passed. This assumes you only crashed the party for six months, though--if you stayed illegally for a year, you have to wait ten years. And even with employer sponsorship...well, re-read the last paragraph.
In fact, our immigration system is broken, but not in the way some people are saying. Basically, our borders are closed, but with a few holes (got that phrase from an immigration article on the Cato Institute's web site). Rather than potential new Americans being considered eligible until proven otherwise by the government, they are automatically rejected unless they can prove their worth. A poor person from, say, Guatemala, whose only skill is as a farmer and who knows little or no English (and may, in fact, be completely illiterate) just wouldn't be considered a good fit under current immigration law. Never mind that he is quite intelligent and would flourish if he had the chance to learn to read and write, first Spanish, then English. (Where I live, a guy like that would be an asset--we're losing too many family farmers because of age, expenses, or plain lack of interest.) Highly-skilled folks aren't in a much better position. Oh, and remember when we welcomed people who were fleeing oppression? Donald Trump's response is that the present refugee crisis isn't real--it's a gigantic plot by Central America to sneak in gangs and drugs. Yeah, gotta watch those infant/toddler MS-13ers...herd 'em all into detention cages!
How To Get On The Trump Shit List
It's simple. Be a Congressperson of color, and criticize Trump's immigration policies.
Four of those fearless sisters--Ilhan Omar (D-MN), Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-NY), Rashida Tlaib (D-MI), and Ayanna Pressley (D-MA)--did just that. Trump's response? He accused them of being unpatriotic and told them to go back where they came from and fix the messes in their own countries!
At a rally in North Carolina, a chant started up--"Send her back!"--when Trump mentioned Rep. Omar. He just let it go. Later, he flip-flopped, at first saying he tried to stop the chant, then later saying that those NC attendees were patriots, and that Omar and her fellow Reps had said "horrible things" about the USA and some of its people.
Wow. Where to begin...
1) Need A Mirror, Mr. President?
Because the number of horrible things you have said about this country and its people increases with just about every tweet you post. The only thing about this that amazes me is that you are too unaware to realize how ironic this entire situation is.
2) And What About Those Rallies, Anyway?
Aren't you supposed to be fulfilling your duties as President? They're outlined in the Constitution. I bet there's even a cardboard version with brightly-colored pictures and first-grade vocabulary, if eighteenth-century English is too hard for you!
You should not be gallivanting around the country when there's work to be done. And BTW...I'm waiting for one of your "chant shills" to repent and confess. No way are all those slogans erupting spontaneously. Think those paid performers are all completely loyal? Well, you've been fooled enough by this time that we're way past shame on anybody.
3) Send Who Back Where To What???
All those ladies are United States citizens, and only one--Ilhan Omar--has ever been anything else. Omar came here from war-torn Somalia when she was ten, becoming a citizen when she was sseventeen. The other women were born here. And how do you, Mr. Trump, expect the messes in poor countries to be fixed by anybody when thugs and gangs control everything? I suppose it only matters if the thugs and gangs in question allow you to build a golf course or tower, or if they buy arms from us. In other words, if you can "do business" with them.
On Second Thought...
Y'know, I've changed my mind. I'm not in Russia--I'm in freakin' Uganda, with Trump as Idi Amin Dada.
Well, maybe not.
I only know that if we don't all stand up and shout "I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not gonna take it anymore!" when we meet up with injustices like this...then I'm definitely not in the USA anymore.
P.S. About That Article...
It's really rare that the Cato Institute publishes anything reasonable, but that article on immigration certainly qualifies. If you want to read it, here is the link:
https://www.cato.org/blog/why-legal-immigration-system-broken-short-list-problems
This last week, I decided to sleep on my day off...like, almost all day. So I was late getting out to run errands, and when I stopped to buy a newspaper--a rare event these days--I glanced at the headlines and screeched to a halt in mid-step. Because apparently, I had awakened in Russia.
The headline that got my attention was from the "illegals roundup" that happened last weekend, brought to us by Donald Trump and his merry band of ICE-men. The idea was to swoop in, arrest all those evil illegals, and deport them. But in this story, there was an interesting wrinkle: the man in question, who was in his car with his girlfriend and their two kids, was approached by an ICE agent who commanded him to get out of the car. The girlfriend says that the agent never said the name of the man they were looking for, nor did he show a warrant. So the family stayed in their vehicle and kept the windows closed. The ICE agent then broke the car window and dragged the man from the car, while his son screamed for the agent not to take his daddy.
Fortunately, the girlfriend recorded the whole incident on her phone, and it's all over Facebook as I write. Hurrah for her. It's about time we Harold Beale this ugly mess.
This whole business of "rounding up the bad guys" smells like a mid-summer mass fish kill anyway. The media have been reporting on it for weeks, which my paper said was problematic for an operation that relied on "secrecy and surprise." Wow. Can you say "KGB," kiddies? How about "police state"? Or "unconstitutional"? Because, kiddies, breaking a car window and dragging a man out of it without showing a warrant is called "illegal search and seizure," and it's something we're supposed to be protected from by the Fourth Amendment. The fact that the ICE agent did not tell the family who they were looking for is also a red flag--what if they had just been profiling anybody who looked Hispanic?
The ICE maintained that the man was an "immigration fugitive" with "prior misdemeanors." But his biggest crime seems to have been that when he was ordered to leave the country, he kept sneaking back in. My bet is that he didn't want to abandon his family here in the States. And he wasn't a shiftless layabout getting free handouts from the government; he was a chef. Whether that means "high-end fancy cook" or "gourmet burger-flipper" is immaterial--the guy worked to provide for his family. He "took care of business," to quote Chris Rock (who had no love for deadbeat dads). Isn't that the kind of immigrant we want to have living here?
But Donald Trump doesn't see it that way. He wants only people from "good" countries to immigrate to the USA. And if you come from a "shithole country," you can apply to come here, but your request will be shunted to the bottom of the heap. An unskilled laborer will wait decades for even a temporary work visa, even with an employer to sponsor him...and he has to leave voluntarily at the end of his term of work and reapply again!
It gets worse. If you come here illegally, then obey a voluntary deportation order, you can't reapply to enter legally until three years have passed. This assumes you only crashed the party for six months, though--if you stayed illegally for a year, you have to wait ten years. And even with employer sponsorship...well, re-read the last paragraph.
In fact, our immigration system is broken, but not in the way some people are saying. Basically, our borders are closed, but with a few holes (got that phrase from an immigration article on the Cato Institute's web site). Rather than potential new Americans being considered eligible until proven otherwise by the government, they are automatically rejected unless they can prove their worth. A poor person from, say, Guatemala, whose only skill is as a farmer and who knows little or no English (and may, in fact, be completely illiterate) just wouldn't be considered a good fit under current immigration law. Never mind that he is quite intelligent and would flourish if he had the chance to learn to read and write, first Spanish, then English. (Where I live, a guy like that would be an asset--we're losing too many family farmers because of age, expenses, or plain lack of interest.) Highly-skilled folks aren't in a much better position. Oh, and remember when we welcomed people who were fleeing oppression? Donald Trump's response is that the present refugee crisis isn't real--it's a gigantic plot by Central America to sneak in gangs and drugs. Yeah, gotta watch those infant/toddler MS-13ers...herd 'em all into detention cages!
How To Get On The Trump Shit List
It's simple. Be a Congressperson of color, and criticize Trump's immigration policies.
Four of those fearless sisters--Ilhan Omar (D-MN), Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-NY), Rashida Tlaib (D-MI), and Ayanna Pressley (D-MA)--did just that. Trump's response? He accused them of being unpatriotic and told them to go back where they came from and fix the messes in their own countries!
At a rally in North Carolina, a chant started up--"Send her back!"--when Trump mentioned Rep. Omar. He just let it go. Later, he flip-flopped, at first saying he tried to stop the chant, then later saying that those NC attendees were patriots, and that Omar and her fellow Reps had said "horrible things" about the USA and some of its people.
Wow. Where to begin...
1) Need A Mirror, Mr. President?
Because the number of horrible things you have said about this country and its people increases with just about every tweet you post. The only thing about this that amazes me is that you are too unaware to realize how ironic this entire situation is.
2) And What About Those Rallies, Anyway?
Aren't you supposed to be fulfilling your duties as President? They're outlined in the Constitution. I bet there's even a cardboard version with brightly-colored pictures and first-grade vocabulary, if eighteenth-century English is too hard for you!
You should not be gallivanting around the country when there's work to be done. And BTW...I'm waiting for one of your "chant shills" to repent and confess. No way are all those slogans erupting spontaneously. Think those paid performers are all completely loyal? Well, you've been fooled enough by this time that we're way past shame on anybody.
3) Send Who Back Where To What???
All those ladies are United States citizens, and only one--Ilhan Omar--has ever been anything else. Omar came here from war-torn Somalia when she was ten, becoming a citizen when she was sseventeen. The other women were born here. And how do you, Mr. Trump, expect the messes in poor countries to be fixed by anybody when thugs and gangs control everything? I suppose it only matters if the thugs and gangs in question allow you to build a golf course or tower, or if they buy arms from us. In other words, if you can "do business" with them.
On Second Thought...
Y'know, I've changed my mind. I'm not in Russia--I'm in freakin' Uganda, with Trump as Idi Amin Dada.
Well, maybe not.
I only know that if we don't all stand up and shout "I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not gonna take it anymore!" when we meet up with injustices like this...then I'm definitely not in the USA anymore.
P.S. About That Article...
It's really rare that the Cato Institute publishes anything reasonable, but that article on immigration certainly qualifies. If you want to read it, here is the link:
https://www.cato.org/blog/why-legal-immigration-system-broken-short-list-problems
Sunday, May 19, 2019
Saving Trees Or Snubbing Bibliophiles?
*Sigh.*
All these years I was worried that one of my favorite authors, Diane Duane, was ill. Or maybe even dead. Because I hadn't seen a new book by her on the shelves in ages.
But she was just fine (sigh again, this time with relief). She wasn't even on sabbatical. She was still writing books...but not for physical publication. E-books, to be exact. Apparently, there's a rather large stack of digital stories that take place between the events of various novels in her Young Wizards series. (Note: this lady was writing cool stories about wizards loooong before Harry Potter was ever created, and Nita Callahan and Kit Rodriguez are well worth your time. First book is So You Want to Be A Wizard. Check it out! Now, back to the original post...)
Now, I really don't have a quarrel with Kindle, and the fact that I am blogging right now proves my status as a non-Luddite. But I am rather old-fashioned in that I love books. I love ordering from my local indie book store, or from Abebooks or Amazon or wherever (I do prefer the actual book store if they can get what I want), and I love opening that new book and turning the pages and devouring every word, and I love shelving that new book in its proper order when I'm finished. A good enough book will catch my eye later on, and then I get the pleasure of re-reading it!
A physical cardboard-and-paper book is very low-tech. All you need in order to read it is enough light. If it's night and the electricity goes out, you can light a candle and carry on. Or just put the book down and go to bed--the sun will rise and give you enough light again! And a blind person doesn't even need light--just a Braille book and sensitive fingers!
Kindle is great in that you can carry lots of books in the same space you'd carry a thin paperback. But it's a machine. You have to be careful not to drop it or get it wet, and if the battery dies, all the light in the world won't get you to that next chapter of The Pride of Chanur, or The Arabian Nights, or even Oliver Twist. And if there's a nasty power surge while you're recharging and the hard drive goes kaput, so does your compact little library...unless you backed it all up on yet another machine. Honestly, a real book is so little trouble by comparison. At least, I think so.
So I will never get a Kindle. Which, unfortunately, means I will also never get to read all those in-between stories about the Young Wizards (some of whom are cats--there's an entire e-novel about them that I just found out about). If I sound like I'm whining, well--maybe I am. But too much screen time isn't very good for people's eyes, filters or no filters. Science has shown that reading a real book before retiring is better for your sleep cycle than staring at a phone, TV, computer...or Kindle. And I'm one of those people who actually can't get to sleep without reading a couple of short stories or a chapter from a novel.
Long ago, when Stephen King wrote The Green Mile as an e-book serial, he subsequently had each chapter published in physical form, then expanded and combined the chapters into an actual novel. He understood that he had fans who might not be computer-literate, or who might--like me--prefer printed words on paper. Diane doesn't seem to know that she has fans who still read physical books; she may think all her readers are wealthy kids who get the newest e-reader every Christmas. But if so, she's sadly mistaken.
Or maybe she's saving trees. It does take wood pulp to create paper. But there are sustainable forest initiatives, and paper is recyclable...and a physical book can be regifted to a friend, donated to a library, sold to a secondhand store, or traded in at the nearest Little Free Library!
But at least Diane seems unaware that she's snubbing people. Other writers, like Charles Stross, revel in techno-snobbery; if the stupid yahoos won't embrace the Technology Revolution, why, they deserve to miss out on the latest installment of that hero who started out on paper but has since uploaded to the Internet, where he and his in-the-know fans can live happily ever after, far away from the Great Unwashed who still write with ink pens.
But technology, besides being fragile, is shallow. And no society lasts forever. And when they finally get around to digging up the remnants of the USA, what will they find that will actually tell them anything about us? Laptops? Xboxes? Kindles?
Or...maybe...books?
That's where I'm laying my bets. Too bad I won't be around to collect my winnings.
All these years I was worried that one of my favorite authors, Diane Duane, was ill. Or maybe even dead. Because I hadn't seen a new book by her on the shelves in ages.
But she was just fine (sigh again, this time with relief). She wasn't even on sabbatical. She was still writing books...but not for physical publication. E-books, to be exact. Apparently, there's a rather large stack of digital stories that take place between the events of various novels in her Young Wizards series. (Note: this lady was writing cool stories about wizards loooong before Harry Potter was ever created, and Nita Callahan and Kit Rodriguez are well worth your time. First book is So You Want to Be A Wizard. Check it out! Now, back to the original post...)
Now, I really don't have a quarrel with Kindle, and the fact that I am blogging right now proves my status as a non-Luddite. But I am rather old-fashioned in that I love books. I love ordering from my local indie book store, or from Abebooks or Amazon or wherever (I do prefer the actual book store if they can get what I want), and I love opening that new book and turning the pages and devouring every word, and I love shelving that new book in its proper order when I'm finished. A good enough book will catch my eye later on, and then I get the pleasure of re-reading it!
A physical cardboard-and-paper book is very low-tech. All you need in order to read it is enough light. If it's night and the electricity goes out, you can light a candle and carry on. Or just put the book down and go to bed--the sun will rise and give you enough light again! And a blind person doesn't even need light--just a Braille book and sensitive fingers!
Kindle is great in that you can carry lots of books in the same space you'd carry a thin paperback. But it's a machine. You have to be careful not to drop it or get it wet, and if the battery dies, all the light in the world won't get you to that next chapter of The Pride of Chanur, or The Arabian Nights, or even Oliver Twist. And if there's a nasty power surge while you're recharging and the hard drive goes kaput, so does your compact little library...unless you backed it all up on yet another machine. Honestly, a real book is so little trouble by comparison. At least, I think so.
So I will never get a Kindle. Which, unfortunately, means I will also never get to read all those in-between stories about the Young Wizards (some of whom are cats--there's an entire e-novel about them that I just found out about). If I sound like I'm whining, well--maybe I am. But too much screen time isn't very good for people's eyes, filters or no filters. Science has shown that reading a real book before retiring is better for your sleep cycle than staring at a phone, TV, computer...or Kindle. And I'm one of those people who actually can't get to sleep without reading a couple of short stories or a chapter from a novel.
Long ago, when Stephen King wrote The Green Mile as an e-book serial, he subsequently had each chapter published in physical form, then expanded and combined the chapters into an actual novel. He understood that he had fans who might not be computer-literate, or who might--like me--prefer printed words on paper. Diane doesn't seem to know that she has fans who still read physical books; she may think all her readers are wealthy kids who get the newest e-reader every Christmas. But if so, she's sadly mistaken.
Or maybe she's saving trees. It does take wood pulp to create paper. But there are sustainable forest initiatives, and paper is recyclable...and a physical book can be regifted to a friend, donated to a library, sold to a secondhand store, or traded in at the nearest Little Free Library!
But at least Diane seems unaware that she's snubbing people. Other writers, like Charles Stross, revel in techno-snobbery; if the stupid yahoos won't embrace the Technology Revolution, why, they deserve to miss out on the latest installment of that hero who started out on paper but has since uploaded to the Internet, where he and his in-the-know fans can live happily ever after, far away from the Great Unwashed who still write with ink pens.
But technology, besides being fragile, is shallow. And no society lasts forever. And when they finally get around to digging up the remnants of the USA, what will they find that will actually tell them anything about us? Laptops? Xboxes? Kindles?
Or...maybe...books?
That's where I'm laying my bets. Too bad I won't be around to collect my winnings.
Sunday, April 7, 2019
The Homeless Question
I've lived in my town for over two decades now, and a lot has changed.
When I first moved here, a car could only turn left on an arrow. Now it can "yield on green," which I translate as "turn whenever you like and hope everyone else stops for you"--which is a danger to everyone, especially pedestrians who are trying to cross on their own signal (more on that in another post).
Also, Wal-Mart played nice with the surrounding businesses--in fact, it lived right next to a grocery store, and it was perfect. You bought groceries from the grocery store, and clothes and shoes at Wal-Mart. No problemo. Then Sam Walton passed on, and his remaining family started doing dark experiments on his creation, and now we have an evil mutant corporation that is presently trying to devour the world. They built a big prison-block building just outside of town, and they not only sell clothes and shoes (none of which are made in the USA--ol' Sam's probably spinning in his grave), but also groceries, tires, gasoline, computers, chain saws, et cetera, ad nauseam. Many of our native business species have withered and died because of Wally World's shady dealings.
Oh, and we used to have a fish place. Not a very good one, but at least you could get a broiled tilapia dinner. That place is now history, and nobody else has ever decided to replace it...although there are several Mexican and Chinese restaurants. And we have enough fast-food burger joints to give this entire town permanent indigestion.
But the newest change, the one that fills me with the most dismay, is our growing homeless problem.
Now, there have always been a few homeless around. One old dude wandered around dressed in full fatigues, carrying a knapsack that looked like WWII military surplus, leaning on a walking stick. His hair and beard were wild and overgrown, and he was freaky tin-hat crazy. How do I know? Because he used to go up to pay phones, pick up the receiver, and just start talking. I was passing by one day as he did this, and he kept repeating that "at 7 a.m. on this date, war is declared...repeat: at 7 a.m. on this date..." And no, it was not the anniversary of December 8th, 1941. So yeah--crazy.
We also had a halfway house in town, and patients from there would occasionally wander into the local diners to try to beg a free cup of coffee. The waitresses and owners were informed by the folks who ran the house that coffee interfered with the patients' meds, so that stopped. Those same patients would beg a cigarette from passers-by--sometimes it worked, sometimes not.
And one young man was a violent case; he once threatened a coffee-shop manager, who called the cops on him. Another time, he walked into a restaurant, went up to the buffet line, and began picking up food and eating it right there. When asked to leave, he got belligerent. Again, the cops were called, and nobody in town ever saw him again.
But what I'm seeing now is something way different. I'm talking about people who step into your path and beg for money from you. Sometimes they ask for a cigarette, or for food--but most times, it's cash they want. And there are a lot of these folks. One kid, who was carrying a cell phone worth about as much as I earn on one paycheck, tried to get a little spare change from me. I said no. Seriously, I could not believe this guy's chutzpah.
There's one guy who rides a bike up to a busy intersection, lays the bike in the grass nearby, then stands there with a sign all day. Seriously?! What blows my mind is that there are hundreds of cars that pass that way, and if only 50 of those cars stop and give him money--say two bucks each--then that guy has just made more in a day than I do at my job. And he's not a skinny dude, so he must be eating regular, if not balanced, meals.
I always feel a little guilty refusing these folks, because my faith teaches me to be generous to those in need. But how much need are they in when they always smell of alcohol, seem to have plenty of cigarettes, wear nice sneakers, and carry smart phones? I'm getting seriously mixed signals here.
Apparently, I'm not the only one, because signs are beginning to sprout in business windows: No Loitering. No Public Restroom. No Soliciting. I have no doubt that people are beginning to petition our city council to Do Something.
Church groups have been trying; they give away food and clothing, and at times vouchers for overnight motel stays. But these are Band-Aid solutions that don't solve the underlying problems.
Some of them are mentally ill and need treatment, but unless they're violent, you can't call the cops and get them off the street. Strike one.
Many of them are healthy enough to work, but when offered day labor by well-meaning people--farmers wanting help with setting fence posts, townies wanting help cleaning up a yard or moving junk out of the back shed--the homeless refuse. They simply want the money given to them. Strike two.
There are some who do, in fact, have jobs; but only part-time ones at minimum wage, and housing is so expensive here (we have two colleges and an air base in our ambit) that they can't afford the deposit-plus-first-month's-rent it takes to even move in to a place. Strike three.
So, what to do? These days, I don't give money to the homeless. If I have food, I'll offer it, and if they refuse, I go on. I donate instead to organizations like the Salvation Army or one of the job-training charities.
But my guess is, the city council is going to get tough with this problem. It won't get solved--nobody can fix people who don't want to be fixed--but if our leading citizens start passing anti-squatting and anti-panhandling laws, as has been done in surrounding towns, most of the homeless will move on to the next soft-hearted town in line.
And the problem will continue. Just somewhere else.
When I first moved here, a car could only turn left on an arrow. Now it can "yield on green," which I translate as "turn whenever you like and hope everyone else stops for you"--which is a danger to everyone, especially pedestrians who are trying to cross on their own signal (more on that in another post).
Also, Wal-Mart played nice with the surrounding businesses--in fact, it lived right next to a grocery store, and it was perfect. You bought groceries from the grocery store, and clothes and shoes at Wal-Mart. No problemo. Then Sam Walton passed on, and his remaining family started doing dark experiments on his creation, and now we have an evil mutant corporation that is presently trying to devour the world. They built a big prison-block building just outside of town, and they not only sell clothes and shoes (none of which are made in the USA--ol' Sam's probably spinning in his grave), but also groceries, tires, gasoline, computers, chain saws, et cetera, ad nauseam. Many of our native business species have withered and died because of Wally World's shady dealings.
Oh, and we used to have a fish place. Not a very good one, but at least you could get a broiled tilapia dinner. That place is now history, and nobody else has ever decided to replace it...although there are several Mexican and Chinese restaurants. And we have enough fast-food burger joints to give this entire town permanent indigestion.
But the newest change, the one that fills me with the most dismay, is our growing homeless problem.
Now, there have always been a few homeless around. One old dude wandered around dressed in full fatigues, carrying a knapsack that looked like WWII military surplus, leaning on a walking stick. His hair and beard were wild and overgrown, and he was freaky tin-hat crazy. How do I know? Because he used to go up to pay phones, pick up the receiver, and just start talking. I was passing by one day as he did this, and he kept repeating that "at 7 a.m. on this date, war is declared...repeat: at 7 a.m. on this date..." And no, it was not the anniversary of December 8th, 1941. So yeah--crazy.
We also had a halfway house in town, and patients from there would occasionally wander into the local diners to try to beg a free cup of coffee. The waitresses and owners were informed by the folks who ran the house that coffee interfered with the patients' meds, so that stopped. Those same patients would beg a cigarette from passers-by--sometimes it worked, sometimes not.
And one young man was a violent case; he once threatened a coffee-shop manager, who called the cops on him. Another time, he walked into a restaurant, went up to the buffet line, and began picking up food and eating it right there. When asked to leave, he got belligerent. Again, the cops were called, and nobody in town ever saw him again.
But what I'm seeing now is something way different. I'm talking about people who step into your path and beg for money from you. Sometimes they ask for a cigarette, or for food--but most times, it's cash they want. And there are a lot of these folks. One kid, who was carrying a cell phone worth about as much as I earn on one paycheck, tried to get a little spare change from me. I said no. Seriously, I could not believe this guy's chutzpah.
There's one guy who rides a bike up to a busy intersection, lays the bike in the grass nearby, then stands there with a sign all day. Seriously?! What blows my mind is that there are hundreds of cars that pass that way, and if only 50 of those cars stop and give him money--say two bucks each--then that guy has just made more in a day than I do at my job. And he's not a skinny dude, so he must be eating regular, if not balanced, meals.
I always feel a little guilty refusing these folks, because my faith teaches me to be generous to those in need. But how much need are they in when they always smell of alcohol, seem to have plenty of cigarettes, wear nice sneakers, and carry smart phones? I'm getting seriously mixed signals here.
Apparently, I'm not the only one, because signs are beginning to sprout in business windows: No Loitering. No Public Restroom. No Soliciting. I have no doubt that people are beginning to petition our city council to Do Something.
Church groups have been trying; they give away food and clothing, and at times vouchers for overnight motel stays. But these are Band-Aid solutions that don't solve the underlying problems.
Some of them are mentally ill and need treatment, but unless they're violent, you can't call the cops and get them off the street. Strike one.
Many of them are healthy enough to work, but when offered day labor by well-meaning people--farmers wanting help with setting fence posts, townies wanting help cleaning up a yard or moving junk out of the back shed--the homeless refuse. They simply want the money given to them. Strike two.
There are some who do, in fact, have jobs; but only part-time ones at minimum wage, and housing is so expensive here (we have two colleges and an air base in our ambit) that they can't afford the deposit-plus-first-month's-rent it takes to even move in to a place. Strike three.
So, what to do? These days, I don't give money to the homeless. If I have food, I'll offer it, and if they refuse, I go on. I donate instead to organizations like the Salvation Army or one of the job-training charities.
But my guess is, the city council is going to get tough with this problem. It won't get solved--nobody can fix people who don't want to be fixed--but if our leading citizens start passing anti-squatting and anti-panhandling laws, as has been done in surrounding towns, most of the homeless will move on to the next soft-hearted town in line.
And the problem will continue. Just somewhere else.
Sunday, March 24, 2019
Komics Kerfuffle
Okay, I'm shouting it from the rooftops:
There are only two comic strips I have ever truly enjoyed on a consistent basis: Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson, and Non Sequitur by Wiley Miller. After Watterson retired, Non Sequitur became the only good reason to turn to the comics page. Other strips might occasionally warrant a chuckle, or a brief time stuck to the fridge; but Non Sequitur nearly always did. The only times it didn't were when the fridge was already overloaded and I wasn't ready to let the displayed ones go yet. Whether it was animal predators acting as business folk (and using their carnivorous natures in a manner that seems oddly appropriate to today's corporate world), the adventures of Danae (notice what her name rhymes with?) and her family (including, oddly enough, a horse), the whoppers of Eddie the Yankee fisherman (whose cat always rides on his shoulder as he sails his boat, the Anoesis--which means, according to the Urban Dictionary, an emotional response to something without understanding it), or all the cute cats and dogs (you can tell Wiley knows both, because he draws them in such realistic postures--my personal fave in that genre [still on the fridge!] is titled "The most ergonomic laptop for stress reduction", featuring a man relaxing in an armchair with both his cat and his dog peacefully sleeping on his lap...get it?), this strip just doesn't quit.
Unfortunately, it's now in danger, because Wiley goofed up.
About a month and a half ago, the Sunday Non Sequitur was a black-and-white "coloring page" featuring anthropomorphic ursines of the "Bearnaissance." Fine so far...but in one of the sketches, depicting invention diagrams and notes by "Leonardo Bearvinci," one of the notes, waaay down in the corner, was a scribbled suggestion that a certain current President should go and engage in reflexive sexual intercourse.
I'll wait while you work that one out...and then tell you that no, Wiley didn't say "fudge."
When I first heard about this controversy, I went back through my old Sunday comic pages to see if I'd bought that paper. Turns out I had; but I'd been so impatient for the resumption of a continuing storyline called "Nebbish" (about a mute simpleton around whom miracles happen, and who is being exploited by an evil duke who wants to take over the world), that I'd simply looked at the coloring page and dismissed it. But now, I took off my glasses and peered very closely at each panel...and sure enough, it was there, though barely readable.
Now, before you go collapse on your fainting couch, or tsk-tsk about how horrible it is that someone would drop the F-bomb into a comics page where children could see it, let's step away from our own anoesis and get some perspective.
Wiley says it was a scribble written only for himself, which he intended to white out later but forgot.
I actually believe this to be true, for two reasons. The first is that these strips are drawn quite a while in advance; if Wiley follows a process similar to Watterson's, he was working on the "Bearnaissance" strip at least a couple of weeks--maybe even a month--before it was published, along with the six daily strips sandwiched between Sunday strips. Erasing a scribble dashed off in a moment of irritation could easily get lost in the shuffle. Which brings me to the second reason: the government shutdown was in full swing when that strip was drawn, and the awfulness of the situation--that a mean clown-President with orange cotton candy on his head could throw a veto-powered hissy fit because Congress thought six billion dollars had better uses than building a border wall--would have tried the considerable patience of St. Teresa of Calcutta (you probably still know her as Mother Teresa). I'd have needed to vent, myself; and I might very well have forgotten to use that correction-fluid pen, too.
Besides all this, how did Wiley's syndicate editor not catch that scribble before it ever went out? If a sharp-eyed reader could do it, a paid editor surely should have; if he/she had, there would have been a supersonic e-mail sent--"Hey Wiley, what's with this strip? You can't put this in the Sunday funnies!" "Oh, shit, did I forget to erase that? Thanks for the save, Ed!"
But alas, 'twas not to be.
And then, Wiley goofed again.
After the strip ran, and angry readers began contacting their papers, he tried to pass the scribble off as an intentional "Easter egg," thinking that might solve the problem. Instead, it made things worse, and his apology for the mistake rang hollow with newspaper editors and layout folk, who were not amused.
And papers began to cancel Non Sequitur.
Interesting thing here...
I was scrolling through a list of these cancellations, and many of them sounded nearly the same, if not exactly so: that it wasn't the insult to Trump, it was the F-word that tipped the scales. This smacks more of a corporate party line than a decision by individual newspaper editors. Given that only a handful of super-rich moguls own nearly all our country's newspapers, the odds are in favor of my conclusion.
"But, Lisa, you can't have the Queen Mother of Dirty Words in a Sunday comic."
Yeah, but...the man has been writing and drawing this strip since 1992. Nearly 10,000 strips later, he makes one mistake--two, counting his CYA maneuver. Was it stupid? Yep. Immature? I agree. Worth ruining his livelihood? Sorry, no. Especially since his own editors were asleep at the wheel, too, and if Wiley needs firing, so does his entire syndicate--sauce for the goose, sauce for the gander, right?
So what now?
If your local newspaper was one of the ones that cancelled Non Sequitur (mine was), and if you love this comic as much as I do (or at least believe in freedom of expression and giving folks a second chance), there are a few things you can do.
One is call or write your paper. Get all your friends to do it, too. Tell the folks on the other end that you want Non Sequitur back. If you subscribe, tell them you'll cancel if they don't restore it; if you don't subscribe, tell them you'll stop buying copies. Given how expensive a newspaper is these days, that might be an easy breakaway.
Another thing is, follow the strip on gocomics.com. It's an awesome site, and setting up a free account is easy.
Also, find a paper that hasn't cancelled Non Sequitur and subscribe. This is a good option if you're like me and prefer a physical newspaper. If said paper is far away, however, you will probably have to pay extra for shipping, plus you'll get the news a couple days late. On the plus side, you'll get a broader perspective on the state of the nation!
Finally, write a supportive e-mail. Wiley Miller's e-mail address is wileyink@earthlink.net.
In closing...
I've spent a lot of time on this issue, haven't I?
But I wouldn't have done so if I didn't believe that Wiley's comic is a real treasure that we should fight to preserve. If a few fat cats who own a bunch of papers can dictate what comic strips we see and cancel the ones they don't like over some flapette du jour, and if we just let them do it, then we're actually aiding and abetting censorship.
And I won't do that.
There are only two comic strips I have ever truly enjoyed on a consistent basis: Calvin and Hobbes by Bill Watterson, and Non Sequitur by Wiley Miller. After Watterson retired, Non Sequitur became the only good reason to turn to the comics page. Other strips might occasionally warrant a chuckle, or a brief time stuck to the fridge; but Non Sequitur nearly always did. The only times it didn't were when the fridge was already overloaded and I wasn't ready to let the displayed ones go yet. Whether it was animal predators acting as business folk (and using their carnivorous natures in a manner that seems oddly appropriate to today's corporate world), the adventures of Danae (notice what her name rhymes with?) and her family (including, oddly enough, a horse), the whoppers of Eddie the Yankee fisherman (whose cat always rides on his shoulder as he sails his boat, the Anoesis--which means, according to the Urban Dictionary, an emotional response to something without understanding it), or all the cute cats and dogs (you can tell Wiley knows both, because he draws them in such realistic postures--my personal fave in that genre [still on the fridge!] is titled "The most ergonomic laptop for stress reduction", featuring a man relaxing in an armchair with both his cat and his dog peacefully sleeping on his lap...get it?), this strip just doesn't quit.
Unfortunately, it's now in danger, because Wiley goofed up.
About a month and a half ago, the Sunday Non Sequitur was a black-and-white "coloring page" featuring anthropomorphic ursines of the "Bearnaissance." Fine so far...but in one of the sketches, depicting invention diagrams and notes by "Leonardo Bearvinci," one of the notes, waaay down in the corner, was a scribbled suggestion that a certain current President should go and engage in reflexive sexual intercourse.
I'll wait while you work that one out...and then tell you that no, Wiley didn't say "fudge."
When I first heard about this controversy, I went back through my old Sunday comic pages to see if I'd bought that paper. Turns out I had; but I'd been so impatient for the resumption of a continuing storyline called "Nebbish" (about a mute simpleton around whom miracles happen, and who is being exploited by an evil duke who wants to take over the world), that I'd simply looked at the coloring page and dismissed it. But now, I took off my glasses and peered very closely at each panel...and sure enough, it was there, though barely readable.
Now, before you go collapse on your fainting couch, or tsk-tsk about how horrible it is that someone would drop the F-bomb into a comics page where children could see it, let's step away from our own anoesis and get some perspective.
Wiley says it was a scribble written only for himself, which he intended to white out later but forgot.
I actually believe this to be true, for two reasons. The first is that these strips are drawn quite a while in advance; if Wiley follows a process similar to Watterson's, he was working on the "Bearnaissance" strip at least a couple of weeks--maybe even a month--before it was published, along with the six daily strips sandwiched between Sunday strips. Erasing a scribble dashed off in a moment of irritation could easily get lost in the shuffle. Which brings me to the second reason: the government shutdown was in full swing when that strip was drawn, and the awfulness of the situation--that a mean clown-President with orange cotton candy on his head could throw a veto-powered hissy fit because Congress thought six billion dollars had better uses than building a border wall--would have tried the considerable patience of St. Teresa of Calcutta (you probably still know her as Mother Teresa). I'd have needed to vent, myself; and I might very well have forgotten to use that correction-fluid pen, too.
Besides all this, how did Wiley's syndicate editor not catch that scribble before it ever went out? If a sharp-eyed reader could do it, a paid editor surely should have; if he/she had, there would have been a supersonic e-mail sent--"Hey Wiley, what's with this strip? You can't put this in the Sunday funnies!" "Oh, shit, did I forget to erase that? Thanks for the save, Ed!"
But alas, 'twas not to be.
And then, Wiley goofed again.
After the strip ran, and angry readers began contacting their papers, he tried to pass the scribble off as an intentional "Easter egg," thinking that might solve the problem. Instead, it made things worse, and his apology for the mistake rang hollow with newspaper editors and layout folk, who were not amused.
And papers began to cancel Non Sequitur.
Interesting thing here...
I was scrolling through a list of these cancellations, and many of them sounded nearly the same, if not exactly so: that it wasn't the insult to Trump, it was the F-word that tipped the scales. This smacks more of a corporate party line than a decision by individual newspaper editors. Given that only a handful of super-rich moguls own nearly all our country's newspapers, the odds are in favor of my conclusion.
"But, Lisa, you can't have the Queen Mother of Dirty Words in a Sunday comic."
Yeah, but...the man has been writing and drawing this strip since 1992. Nearly 10,000 strips later, he makes one mistake--two, counting his CYA maneuver. Was it stupid? Yep. Immature? I agree. Worth ruining his livelihood? Sorry, no. Especially since his own editors were asleep at the wheel, too, and if Wiley needs firing, so does his entire syndicate--sauce for the goose, sauce for the gander, right?
So what now?
If your local newspaper was one of the ones that cancelled Non Sequitur (mine was), and if you love this comic as much as I do (or at least believe in freedom of expression and giving folks a second chance), there are a few things you can do.
One is call or write your paper. Get all your friends to do it, too. Tell the folks on the other end that you want Non Sequitur back. If you subscribe, tell them you'll cancel if they don't restore it; if you don't subscribe, tell them you'll stop buying copies. Given how expensive a newspaper is these days, that might be an easy breakaway.
Another thing is, follow the strip on gocomics.com. It's an awesome site, and setting up a free account is easy.
Also, find a paper that hasn't cancelled Non Sequitur and subscribe. This is a good option if you're like me and prefer a physical newspaper. If said paper is far away, however, you will probably have to pay extra for shipping, plus you'll get the news a couple days late. On the plus side, you'll get a broader perspective on the state of the nation!
Finally, write a supportive e-mail. Wiley Miller's e-mail address is wileyink@earthlink.net.
In closing...
I've spent a lot of time on this issue, haven't I?
But I wouldn't have done so if I didn't believe that Wiley's comic is a real treasure that we should fight to preserve. If a few fat cats who own a bunch of papers can dictate what comic strips we see and cancel the ones they don't like over some flapette du jour, and if we just let them do it, then we're actually aiding and abetting censorship.
And I won't do that.
Sunday, March 3, 2019
Fun With Crazy Stupid Cold!
According to my calendar, it's March 3rd. But according to my thermometer, it's more like mid-January. And we just had another six inches of snow dumped on us, just when the last of the dirty drifts from February's snow/ice extravaganza had finally melted off!
I note these things because this sort of situation used to happen every year when I was a kid, although the earliest cold snap usually happened around Thanksgiving, we almost always had snow by Christmas, and the final melt was over by mid-March. But the last time we had this much snow in recent memory was a few years back, when we got several rounds of 3-4 inches, including a surprise winter storm in early May. That year was so cold, I literally had to run the heat for half an hour to get the house hot enough for the inspector to properly test my AC...and that was in mid-May.
However, the weather has become wildly unpredictable; it might be what I consider a "normal winter" one year, with the temps being brrr-cold and appropriate precipitation falling...and the next, we might have light-jacket weather in December and tornado warnings in February (been there more than once). Summers are worse: the temps might be moderate, with so much rain that basements all over the state leak...or it could be like 2012, when we would have welcomed even a rip-roaring severe storm if only it would save the grass from crunching under our feet, and when the only flowers that thrived were the blue chicory growing along the highways. (That year, I watered my foundations so much, I was surprised the house didn't grow another story higher.)
But right now, the temperature is falling to an expected overnight low of a handful of degrees above zero, and tomorrow won't even reach 10 above. In other words, it's freakin' cold.
I mention all this because I've been a pedestrian all my life, and I know how to dress for whatever weather is out there. It's all common sense. Yet all around me, I see evidence that the general population is growing steadily wimpier. For example: hardly anybody shovels their sidewalks anymore. Even most of the businesses on my shank's-mare commute to work don't do it. Don't ask me why. I do mine whenever we get more than an inch of snow, just in case somebody might want to walk somewhere besides out in the road...but that, you see, is the other thing: people don't walk anymore to get places. Why would they, when they can drive? And those same businesses who won't shovel their sidewalks always plow out their parking lots. But hey, y'all--I notice which businesses don't do their sidewalks, and I choose where to shop accordingly. Because if they don't care how hard it is for me to walk past their building, then they don't want my money very badly, do they?
And then there's the fact that everything seems to shut down when it gets into the single digits. The list of churches that decided to cancel their evening services tonight was disheartening. I mean, there wasn't even any ice! And the parking lots, at least, would be plowed out, right? I mean, come on!!!
I get asked a lot why I walk all the time. Why I don't get a car. And don't I know I could get frostbite? Well...maybe. But if you're acclimated, the cold doesn't affect you like it does most of the hothouse flowers around you--the people who leave a heated house to get into a heated car (thanks to new technology, you can point a little remote and start that car from inside the house) and drive to a heated workplace. In fact, if you get out and walk in the extreme cold, you actually reap some health benefits. Like, fresher air...and when you're out while it's snowing, there's a clean crispness to the air that nobody has ever succeeded in imitating or bottling for sale. And you catch fewer colds, because you're not breathing the same indoor air as all your sick colleagues...or at least, not as much. Oh, and walking through a few inches of powdery snow is a lot like using an elliptical trainer at the gym!
So, yeah, that's why. Want to brave the elements yourself? Here's some common-sense advice:
1) Layer Up. A few light layers will warm you better than one big, heavy coat, and will give you better freedom of movement. And be sure you cover your head accordingly--you lose a lot of your body heat upward. Wear breathable inner layers so you don't get sweaty (and then feel clammy), and tough, insulated outer layers to keep the heat in. Wear a scarf around your neck and a hat that covers your ears, and if you have a hood on your outer layer, pull it up and cinch it tight. My fave head/neck hack is to wear an under layer with the hood pulled up, then a long scarf wrapped over my head, then around my neck (like in Fiddler on the Roof--in fact, that's where I got the idea!), then outer hood up and tight over it all.
And thermal underwear is your friend, especially during the deep-freeze times.
2) Take Time. Let's face it--it's gonna take you longer to get places when you walk, especially if there's snow and ice on the ground. So be prepared to take some extra time. As a general rule, I allow twice as much time on snowy days for my commute as I do on dry days. If you're not sure how long it will take you to get somewhere you need to be, try a "test walk" to the place on a day you don't have to be there, and keep track of your time.
3) Keep Your Balance! About that frozen stuff on the ground...you'll need proper footwear. For ice, there are neat spiked things that stretch right over your shoes (check the size range on the box); for snow, you can either wear plain boots and carry your regular shoes in a bag (an old plastic grocery bag is fine), or you can wear galoshes that fit right over your shoes (that's my usual thing). If you go for the galoshes, try not to walk on the bare ground in them--it will wear them out faster.
4) Carry What You Need. Remember that you won't be able to just dump a bunch of stuff in your car and go. You have to plan for the day, and only carry what you will need. Trust me, unless you have to carry a Crock-Pot to a church potluck, you can probably do it. Invest in a tough, roomy, good-quality messenger bag, and you can practically travel to another city and survive (yes, you can even fit in a change of underwear and some toiletries, and yes, I have done that).
5) Once You're Out There, Look Around! Because there is a lot to see. Pass the same trees every day, and you get to know who lives in them, how close they are to leafing out, and where those broken branches are healing from that wind storm two years back. And you'll see--and hear--the big V's of migrating geese overhead. The first crocuses and daffodils will cheer you up, and I swear, you can smell changes in the weather. Not to mention the new people you'll meet. But watch out for the cars, because they're not always watching out for you!
And that's pretty much it. Hey, maybe I'll see you on the sidewalk sometime...if they shoveled it, that is...
I note these things because this sort of situation used to happen every year when I was a kid, although the earliest cold snap usually happened around Thanksgiving, we almost always had snow by Christmas, and the final melt was over by mid-March. But the last time we had this much snow in recent memory was a few years back, when we got several rounds of 3-4 inches, including a surprise winter storm in early May. That year was so cold, I literally had to run the heat for half an hour to get the house hot enough for the inspector to properly test my AC...and that was in mid-May.
However, the weather has become wildly unpredictable; it might be what I consider a "normal winter" one year, with the temps being brrr-cold and appropriate precipitation falling...and the next, we might have light-jacket weather in December and tornado warnings in February (been there more than once). Summers are worse: the temps might be moderate, with so much rain that basements all over the state leak...or it could be like 2012, when we would have welcomed even a rip-roaring severe storm if only it would save the grass from crunching under our feet, and when the only flowers that thrived were the blue chicory growing along the highways. (That year, I watered my foundations so much, I was surprised the house didn't grow another story higher.)
But right now, the temperature is falling to an expected overnight low of a handful of degrees above zero, and tomorrow won't even reach 10 above. In other words, it's freakin' cold.
I mention all this because I've been a pedestrian all my life, and I know how to dress for whatever weather is out there. It's all common sense. Yet all around me, I see evidence that the general population is growing steadily wimpier. For example: hardly anybody shovels their sidewalks anymore. Even most of the businesses on my shank's-mare commute to work don't do it. Don't ask me why. I do mine whenever we get more than an inch of snow, just in case somebody might want to walk somewhere besides out in the road...but that, you see, is the other thing: people don't walk anymore to get places. Why would they, when they can drive? And those same businesses who won't shovel their sidewalks always plow out their parking lots. But hey, y'all--I notice which businesses don't do their sidewalks, and I choose where to shop accordingly. Because if they don't care how hard it is for me to walk past their building, then they don't want my money very badly, do they?
And then there's the fact that everything seems to shut down when it gets into the single digits. The list of churches that decided to cancel their evening services tonight was disheartening. I mean, there wasn't even any ice! And the parking lots, at least, would be plowed out, right? I mean, come on!!!
I get asked a lot why I walk all the time. Why I don't get a car. And don't I know I could get frostbite? Well...maybe. But if you're acclimated, the cold doesn't affect you like it does most of the hothouse flowers around you--the people who leave a heated house to get into a heated car (thanks to new technology, you can point a little remote and start that car from inside the house) and drive to a heated workplace. In fact, if you get out and walk in the extreme cold, you actually reap some health benefits. Like, fresher air...and when you're out while it's snowing, there's a clean crispness to the air that nobody has ever succeeded in imitating or bottling for sale. And you catch fewer colds, because you're not breathing the same indoor air as all your sick colleagues...or at least, not as much. Oh, and walking through a few inches of powdery snow is a lot like using an elliptical trainer at the gym!
So, yeah, that's why. Want to brave the elements yourself? Here's some common-sense advice:
1) Layer Up. A few light layers will warm you better than one big, heavy coat, and will give you better freedom of movement. And be sure you cover your head accordingly--you lose a lot of your body heat upward. Wear breathable inner layers so you don't get sweaty (and then feel clammy), and tough, insulated outer layers to keep the heat in. Wear a scarf around your neck and a hat that covers your ears, and if you have a hood on your outer layer, pull it up and cinch it tight. My fave head/neck hack is to wear an under layer with the hood pulled up, then a long scarf wrapped over my head, then around my neck (like in Fiddler on the Roof--in fact, that's where I got the idea!), then outer hood up and tight over it all.
And thermal underwear is your friend, especially during the deep-freeze times.
2) Take Time. Let's face it--it's gonna take you longer to get places when you walk, especially if there's snow and ice on the ground. So be prepared to take some extra time. As a general rule, I allow twice as much time on snowy days for my commute as I do on dry days. If you're not sure how long it will take you to get somewhere you need to be, try a "test walk" to the place on a day you don't have to be there, and keep track of your time.
3) Keep Your Balance! About that frozen stuff on the ground...you'll need proper footwear. For ice, there are neat spiked things that stretch right over your shoes (check the size range on the box); for snow, you can either wear plain boots and carry your regular shoes in a bag (an old plastic grocery bag is fine), or you can wear galoshes that fit right over your shoes (that's my usual thing). If you go for the galoshes, try not to walk on the bare ground in them--it will wear them out faster.
4) Carry What You Need. Remember that you won't be able to just dump a bunch of stuff in your car and go. You have to plan for the day, and only carry what you will need. Trust me, unless you have to carry a Crock-Pot to a church potluck, you can probably do it. Invest in a tough, roomy, good-quality messenger bag, and you can practically travel to another city and survive (yes, you can even fit in a change of underwear and some toiletries, and yes, I have done that).
5) Once You're Out There, Look Around! Because there is a lot to see. Pass the same trees every day, and you get to know who lives in them, how close they are to leafing out, and where those broken branches are healing from that wind storm two years back. And you'll see--and hear--the big V's of migrating geese overhead. The first crocuses and daffodils will cheer you up, and I swear, you can smell changes in the weather. Not to mention the new people you'll meet. But watch out for the cars, because they're not always watching out for you!
And that's pretty much it. Hey, maybe I'll see you on the sidewalk sometime...if they shoveled it, that is...
Sunday, February 10, 2019
Can We Please Be Sane About The 2nd Amendment?
Seen Recently...
"In God We Trust - The Guns Are Just Backup" (T-shirt featuring an eagle with an assault rifle in each talon)
"Trespassers Will Be Shot. Survivors Will Be Shot Again" (Metal sign)
"We Don't Dial 911" (Bumper sticker; also on t-shirt showing a pistol pointing at the observer)
"Keep Back - Driver Carries Only $20 Worth Of Ammo" (Bumper sticker)
"Don't Mess With My Family - Faith - Firearms - Freedom" (T-shirt)
Wow.
When I was a little kid, the NRA was the organization that taught you how to safely handle a gun. I don't know how political they were, but they didn't seem to be as much about advocating for gun ownership as they are now; they were more about making sure that people who did own guns used them wisely.
How times have changed.
When the Bill of Rights was first written, the most advanced firearm was the single-shooter. It wasn't very accurate, and in order to reload, you had to use a ramrod to tamp in gunpowder and a little lead ball. (There were, of course, cannons...but the same principle applied, on a larger scale.) On a battlefield of that age, you had one line of men firing at the enemy, then stooping to reload while the men behind them took their turn to fire. Close-in fighting was done with knives, bayonets, and sabers (those weapons carried by the officers weren't just for show). And most of the weapons named above had other uses in civilian life, such as hunting or self-defense. A man with a good knife could survive quite well in the wilderness, if he had a bit of knowledge to go with it.
So when the Founding Fathers wrote, "A well-regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed," they were thinking of something quite different than what we have today.
Okay, So Here's What I'm Reading...
The English of the Constitution looks kind of weird, doesn't it? And of all its articles and amendments, the 2nd is the one folks have the most trouble with. That's because it's one long sentence with its clauses separated only by commas. My high-school English teachers would have red-penciled it and given me an F. I can see the comments now: "Unclear sentence structure." "Is this a single thought in three parts, or three separate thoughts?" "Comma placement confuses your intended meaning." And one of my instructors would have written simply: "Run-on sentence." (She thought shorter was better, and she loathed semicolons--she said they made for lazy writing.)
But if you break the amendment into its components, you notice that each part of it proceeds naturally from the part before it. Here's my layman's rendition:
1)We need a trained group of people who can fight.
2) We need them to help keep our country free.
3) Therefore, we have the right to own and use weapons as part of this fighting group.
See, since the time of the Revolution, our armed forces has always been made up of Joe Blow and all his kinfolk. They had their guns that they hunted with, and the knives they skinned deer with, and they took those to war with them. The idea of military-issued weaponry didn't exist at the time. And when we became a real country with a real government, even though we were small, the idea of the "citizen militia" remained - each citizen being trained to use his own weapons to defend his community, his state, and his country alongside his neighbors, whenever they were called to do so. (The later formation of the National Guard is perhaps the best example of the "well-regulated Militia" spoken of in the 2nd Amendment, but I consider local law enforcement groups to be in that category as well.)
Now, weapons have changed a lot since the 1700's. One man with an AK-50, or an M-16, or even a converted AR-15, can do a lot to defend his country...or, as we have seen in recent years, he can create a lot of mayhem. The mayhem is why we need to revise our understanding of the 2nd Amendment.
Two Things To Consider
The first is, there have always been limits.
Don't believe me? Try carrying a machete in a scabbard. Yeah, just walk around with it, and tell everybody you meet that you're exercising your second-amendment rights. After all, "arms" means anything you can use as a weapon, right?
Maybe so...but you could be arrested just the same. Same thing if you're carrying a switchblade, or a belt full of throwing stars, or even, in some states, a Taser or a can of Mace. In my state, the legal length on a knife blade is about pocket-knife length for concealed carry, but for open-carry it varies from state to state, and often cities and towns have their own variations. Once, when I went in for jury selection, I accidentally carried a large Phillips-head screwdriver into our courthouse--it was in an inner coat pocket because I had forgotten and taken it home from work, and I was intending to return it to its niche on my next shift. Of course, I set off the metal detector, and the cop took the screwdriver away. After the jury was chosen and I was free to go, I had the devil's own time convincing that cop to let me have my screwdriver back. When he finally returned it, I was sternly warned never to bring such a thing in again.
And if you remember, during the Prohibition era, sawed-off shotguns and Tommy guns were also considered illegal, mostly because that's what the gangsters carried. Up until recently, carrying a large number of guns in your car could get you in trouble, and in some states it still will. And even a single legal firearm becomes illegal if you conceal it in your car or truck, depending on where you live.
The second thing is, times have changed.
You know, even the Wild West wasn't as wild as the movies portrayed it. Many towns had their own gun-control laws, often requiring visitors to check their guns and knives at a hotel or with the local law office. You'd get a token saying that you had done so, and when you were ready to leave town, you turned in your token and got your weapons back. If this sounds draconian, remember that this was the edge of the wilderness, and folks living out there got used to making their own way by hook or by crook (pun intended). Coming into town, however, meant being willing to abide by community statutes intended to protect the residents. In many places, if you weren't willing to do that, you could keep on riding, because that town wouldn't welcome you.
Nowadays, there's almost no wilderness left, and when you go out to hunt, it's at set seasons, with set weaponry and a limit on what and how much you can bag. If you carry a gun in a city for self-defense, you are just as likely to provoke an attack as to fend off a bad guy already intent on attacking you. And if you fire a gun into the air on the Fourth of July or New Year's Eve...well, that's illegal now. Why? Because what goes up must come down, and in a densely-populated area, that means your chance of committing involuntary manslaughter with that random bullet becomes depressingly good.
In the past, there were crazies out there, just like now; but again, we live closer together nowadays. So the crazy guy with a gut full of dope or liquor and a gun in his hand is even more dangerous than he was in the old days. And the gun is not a single-shot dueling pistol anymore; it could be a six-shooter, or the Luger he captured from a dead German back in WWII, or even a Glock or a Magnum...you know, like Dirty Harry's. Do you feel lucky? Well, do you, punk?
Oh, and then there are the people who are just plain mad as hell, and they're not gonna take it anymore...and they're using firearms to solve the problem that made them mad. Kids who get bullied and go shoot up their school...spouses who open fire on their partners...drive-by shootings...et cetera, ad nauseam. Now that we all live in such close proximity, such events become more common and cause more loss of life.
So What Do We Do?
A gun is made to kill--whether an animal or a human, it doesn't really matter. As I noted before, hunting is regulated; but killing a human is murder. Sometimes killing a person is necessary, but only within the bounds of law enforcement, and the cops who kill had better be damned sure they're firing on a bona-fide Bad Guy...because once it's done, they can't resurrect the vic and say, "Oh sorry, we goofed--no hard feelings?"
And that is the real answer: we need to think.
Notice I haven't mentioned knives, or swords, or throwing stars, or Mace or Tasers or even screwdrivers, for quite a few paragraphs. That's because even though many of those items are lethal, they're chancier than a gun. A couple of simple self-defense movements can disarm somebody who has one of those items, and if all else fails, you can run away and have a good chance of survival. But any fool with a steady hand can pull a trigger and send a high-speed ballistic missile into another person's body, and even a quick movement on your part isn't faster than that. And even if you have a gun too, it won't gain you anything if the Bad Guy has the drop on you.
It would be nice if we could read minds and tell who was a crazy, or a criminal, or an angry person right off. But since we can't, here's what we should do instead:
1) Wait. By this, I mean there ought to be a waiting period for all firearms purchases. Time has a way of giving perspective to what we intend to do. If you really still want to kill your wife after three days, you might be ready to consider counselling instead. Which brings me to...
2) Some states have laws forbidding gun ownership to those with a history of mental illness or domestic abuse. Laws like this should be tightened, plus there should be involuntary-commital laws to get these dangerous people off the streets, with therapy and meds available for those who can be fixed. It has to be a two-pronged attack, or it won't help.
3) Registry of all legal firearms. Those who are against this are just plain silly. Sure, carrying a gun is a right...but so is voting, and we have to register to do that, too, and for the same reason: so that no one abuses or misuses that right! And if you could report your registered weapon as stolen, think how much easier it would be to find it, and the thief who stole it, before he could sell it or commit another crime with it. "But I don't want the government to know what guns I have, or how many." But you're happy to tell the cops all that if you get robbed, right? Why not before?
4) Trigger locks, or some kind of smart tech. This is mainly to prevent accidents, in particular when kids find Mom's handgun and start playing with it. Failing this, how about a gun safe with a key? Also, kids should be trained from their earliest years that guns are serious business. You can shoot out more than your eye with a .38. And speaking of that...
5) Training should be required for all gun users. I would suggest a two-month course of at least police quality, in which a person is trained both how and when to use a gun. Remember, the amendment talks about a "well-regulated Militia," right? That involves training. And no, the cops on the street don't always get it right, but a civilian is better off with the training than without.
6) Change the mindset. Here in this country, we love our guns. We seem to think they can actually solve our problems. But other countries don't think the way we do, and I don't think it's an accident that the violent-crime stats are lower in many other developed countries than they are here. I don't believe it's that they have better gun control; it's that they have a better way of thinking--about guns, sure, but also about crime, punishment, mental illness, and even about social interaction. Would we really feel like we need a gun if we actually knew our neighbors? (I'm betting Trayvon Martin would still be alive if George Zimmerman had actually known Trayvon's dad's fiancee, and known that the boy and his dad were visiting.) A gun is only an object. But as long as we Americans keep thinking of it as a solution, things will never get better.
"In God We Trust - The Guns Are Just Backup" (T-shirt featuring an eagle with an assault rifle in each talon)
"Trespassers Will Be Shot. Survivors Will Be Shot Again" (Metal sign)
"We Don't Dial 911" (Bumper sticker; also on t-shirt showing a pistol pointing at the observer)
"Keep Back - Driver Carries Only $20 Worth Of Ammo" (Bumper sticker)
"Don't Mess With My Family - Faith - Firearms - Freedom" (T-shirt)
Wow.
When I was a little kid, the NRA was the organization that taught you how to safely handle a gun. I don't know how political they were, but they didn't seem to be as much about advocating for gun ownership as they are now; they were more about making sure that people who did own guns used them wisely.
How times have changed.
When the Bill of Rights was first written, the most advanced firearm was the single-shooter. It wasn't very accurate, and in order to reload, you had to use a ramrod to tamp in gunpowder and a little lead ball. (There were, of course, cannons...but the same principle applied, on a larger scale.) On a battlefield of that age, you had one line of men firing at the enemy, then stooping to reload while the men behind them took their turn to fire. Close-in fighting was done with knives, bayonets, and sabers (those weapons carried by the officers weren't just for show). And most of the weapons named above had other uses in civilian life, such as hunting or self-defense. A man with a good knife could survive quite well in the wilderness, if he had a bit of knowledge to go with it.
So when the Founding Fathers wrote, "A well-regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed," they were thinking of something quite different than what we have today.
Okay, So Here's What I'm Reading...
The English of the Constitution looks kind of weird, doesn't it? And of all its articles and amendments, the 2nd is the one folks have the most trouble with. That's because it's one long sentence with its clauses separated only by commas. My high-school English teachers would have red-penciled it and given me an F. I can see the comments now: "Unclear sentence structure." "Is this a single thought in three parts, or three separate thoughts?" "Comma placement confuses your intended meaning." And one of my instructors would have written simply: "Run-on sentence." (She thought shorter was better, and she loathed semicolons--she said they made for lazy writing.)
But if you break the amendment into its components, you notice that each part of it proceeds naturally from the part before it. Here's my layman's rendition:
1)We need a trained group of people who can fight.
2) We need them to help keep our country free.
3) Therefore, we have the right to own and use weapons as part of this fighting group.
See, since the time of the Revolution, our armed forces has always been made up of Joe Blow and all his kinfolk. They had their guns that they hunted with, and the knives they skinned deer with, and they took those to war with them. The idea of military-issued weaponry didn't exist at the time. And when we became a real country with a real government, even though we were small, the idea of the "citizen militia" remained - each citizen being trained to use his own weapons to defend his community, his state, and his country alongside his neighbors, whenever they were called to do so. (The later formation of the National Guard is perhaps the best example of the "well-regulated Militia" spoken of in the 2nd Amendment, but I consider local law enforcement groups to be in that category as well.)
Now, weapons have changed a lot since the 1700's. One man with an AK-50, or an M-16, or even a converted AR-15, can do a lot to defend his country...or, as we have seen in recent years, he can create a lot of mayhem. The mayhem is why we need to revise our understanding of the 2nd Amendment.
Two Things To Consider
The first is, there have always been limits.
Don't believe me? Try carrying a machete in a scabbard. Yeah, just walk around with it, and tell everybody you meet that you're exercising your second-amendment rights. After all, "arms" means anything you can use as a weapon, right?
Maybe so...but you could be arrested just the same. Same thing if you're carrying a switchblade, or a belt full of throwing stars, or even, in some states, a Taser or a can of Mace. In my state, the legal length on a knife blade is about pocket-knife length for concealed carry, but for open-carry it varies from state to state, and often cities and towns have their own variations. Once, when I went in for jury selection, I accidentally carried a large Phillips-head screwdriver into our courthouse--it was in an inner coat pocket because I had forgotten and taken it home from work, and I was intending to return it to its niche on my next shift. Of course, I set off the metal detector, and the cop took the screwdriver away. After the jury was chosen and I was free to go, I had the devil's own time convincing that cop to let me have my screwdriver back. When he finally returned it, I was sternly warned never to bring such a thing in again.
And if you remember, during the Prohibition era, sawed-off shotguns and Tommy guns were also considered illegal, mostly because that's what the gangsters carried. Up until recently, carrying a large number of guns in your car could get you in trouble, and in some states it still will. And even a single legal firearm becomes illegal if you conceal it in your car or truck, depending on where you live.
The second thing is, times have changed.
You know, even the Wild West wasn't as wild as the movies portrayed it. Many towns had their own gun-control laws, often requiring visitors to check their guns and knives at a hotel or with the local law office. You'd get a token saying that you had done so, and when you were ready to leave town, you turned in your token and got your weapons back. If this sounds draconian, remember that this was the edge of the wilderness, and folks living out there got used to making their own way by hook or by crook (pun intended). Coming into town, however, meant being willing to abide by community statutes intended to protect the residents. In many places, if you weren't willing to do that, you could keep on riding, because that town wouldn't welcome you.
Nowadays, there's almost no wilderness left, and when you go out to hunt, it's at set seasons, with set weaponry and a limit on what and how much you can bag. If you carry a gun in a city for self-defense, you are just as likely to provoke an attack as to fend off a bad guy already intent on attacking you. And if you fire a gun into the air on the Fourth of July or New Year's Eve...well, that's illegal now. Why? Because what goes up must come down, and in a densely-populated area, that means your chance of committing involuntary manslaughter with that random bullet becomes depressingly good.
In the past, there were crazies out there, just like now; but again, we live closer together nowadays. So the crazy guy with a gut full of dope or liquor and a gun in his hand is even more dangerous than he was in the old days. And the gun is not a single-shot dueling pistol anymore; it could be a six-shooter, or the Luger he captured from a dead German back in WWII, or even a Glock or a Magnum...you know, like Dirty Harry's. Do you feel lucky? Well, do you, punk?
Oh, and then there are the people who are just plain mad as hell, and they're not gonna take it anymore...and they're using firearms to solve the problem that made them mad. Kids who get bullied and go shoot up their school...spouses who open fire on their partners...drive-by shootings...et cetera, ad nauseam. Now that we all live in such close proximity, such events become more common and cause more loss of life.
So What Do We Do?
A gun is made to kill--whether an animal or a human, it doesn't really matter. As I noted before, hunting is regulated; but killing a human is murder. Sometimes killing a person is necessary, but only within the bounds of law enforcement, and the cops who kill had better be damned sure they're firing on a bona-fide Bad Guy...because once it's done, they can't resurrect the vic and say, "Oh sorry, we goofed--no hard feelings?"
And that is the real answer: we need to think.
Notice I haven't mentioned knives, or swords, or throwing stars, or Mace or Tasers or even screwdrivers, for quite a few paragraphs. That's because even though many of those items are lethal, they're chancier than a gun. A couple of simple self-defense movements can disarm somebody who has one of those items, and if all else fails, you can run away and have a good chance of survival. But any fool with a steady hand can pull a trigger and send a high-speed ballistic missile into another person's body, and even a quick movement on your part isn't faster than that. And even if you have a gun too, it won't gain you anything if the Bad Guy has the drop on you.
It would be nice if we could read minds and tell who was a crazy, or a criminal, or an angry person right off. But since we can't, here's what we should do instead:
1) Wait. By this, I mean there ought to be a waiting period for all firearms purchases. Time has a way of giving perspective to what we intend to do. If you really still want to kill your wife after three days, you might be ready to consider counselling instead. Which brings me to...
2) Some states have laws forbidding gun ownership to those with a history of mental illness or domestic abuse. Laws like this should be tightened, plus there should be involuntary-commital laws to get these dangerous people off the streets, with therapy and meds available for those who can be fixed. It has to be a two-pronged attack, or it won't help.
3) Registry of all legal firearms. Those who are against this are just plain silly. Sure, carrying a gun is a right...but so is voting, and we have to register to do that, too, and for the same reason: so that no one abuses or misuses that right! And if you could report your registered weapon as stolen, think how much easier it would be to find it, and the thief who stole it, before he could sell it or commit another crime with it. "But I don't want the government to know what guns I have, or how many." But you're happy to tell the cops all that if you get robbed, right? Why not before?
4) Trigger locks, or some kind of smart tech. This is mainly to prevent accidents, in particular when kids find Mom's handgun and start playing with it. Failing this, how about a gun safe with a key? Also, kids should be trained from their earliest years that guns are serious business. You can shoot out more than your eye with a .38. And speaking of that...
5) Training should be required for all gun users. I would suggest a two-month course of at least police quality, in which a person is trained both how and when to use a gun. Remember, the amendment talks about a "well-regulated Militia," right? That involves training. And no, the cops on the street don't always get it right, but a civilian is better off with the training than without.
6) Change the mindset. Here in this country, we love our guns. We seem to think they can actually solve our problems. But other countries don't think the way we do, and I don't think it's an accident that the violent-crime stats are lower in many other developed countries than they are here. I don't believe it's that they have better gun control; it's that they have a better way of thinking--about guns, sure, but also about crime, punishment, mental illness, and even about social interaction. Would we really feel like we need a gun if we actually knew our neighbors? (I'm betting Trayvon Martin would still be alive if George Zimmerman had actually known Trayvon's dad's fiancee, and known that the boy and his dad were visiting.) A gun is only an object. But as long as we Americans keep thinking of it as a solution, things will never get better.
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