Let them put their personal safety where their big, loud mouths are

So, it looks like there is actually going to be some kind of vote in the Senate on getting at least minimal control over the wide open sales and trafficking of guns in this country. President Obama said in his State of the Union address that victims of gun crimes deserve such a vote, and, to his credit, he has continued to push for those votes, even when the Conventional Wisdom within the Washington Beltway says that imposing any kind of control of guns is impossible. Of course, that same Conventional Wisdom said that Barack Obama had no chance to be reelected last year.

After the tragic slaughter of twenty six-year-olds and their teachers who tried to protect them at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut last December, I wrote to all of my elected (though not by me) representatives from Texas in Washington - namely Senators John Cornyn and Ted Cruz and Rep. Kevin Brady - and asked them to please support sensible gun control laws to reign in the senseless mass slaughter that is taking place in our country. What I got back from each of them were form letters that might have been written by Wayne LaPierre of the National Rifle Association. None of the gun laws that are proposed would have saved any of the children at Sandy Hook, they said. Background checks do no good, they said, because criminals will not submit to background checks. We can't ban assault rifles because of the Second Amendment, they said. Even though when the Founders wrote that amendment, they had muskets in mind, not assault rifles with high capacity magazines that can shoot more than one hundred bullets in a matter of seconds and rip apart the tiny bodies of innocent children, not to mention the lives of those who love them.

Those responses made me very angry and disgusted with the quality of people who allegedly represent me - but not really - in Washington. In reality, they represent the NRA and the oil companies and the insurance companies and all the big spenders who have given them millions of dollars to purchase any principles they might have had.

But wait, I thought. What if these guys really believe this stuff? What if these really are their true principles? How could they prove their sincerity?

Then, it came to me - a modest proposal for how Cornyn, Cruz, Brady, et. al., can stand foursquare for their belief that guns should not be fettered in any way and people should be able to brandish those weapons in any venue.

I suggest to my esteemed Congresspeople that they should each introduce legislation in the Senate and the House to allow visitors to each of those Houses to freely carry any weapon which they choose, assault weapons with high capacity magazines not restricted. No background checks allowed. After all, Second Amendment! Don't the people have a right to carry their beloved weapons into "their" House?

In this way, our elected representatives can be just as safe in their workplace as our school children and every other ordinary citizen in this country. And my courageous representatives will have the opportunity to put their own personal safety on the line, right along with the school children. In other words, they can put their personal safety where their big, loud mouths are. Don't you think that seems fair?

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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