communication, healthcare, law, mental health, psychology, social media

“Ammosexuals” who steadfastly refuse to accept reality, as more people die…

Happy last day of March, y’all. It’s been quite an eventful month for Bill and me. We lost our beloved Arran, finally took a road trip, and watched the weather gradually turn from wintery to springlike. I always enjoy spring, even though April is historically kind of a “cruel” month. Especially when it comes to gun violence.

I remember back on April 20, 1999, when we first heard the names Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, of Columbine, Colorado. News of the Columbine High School shootings was on every major television network. People were incredibly shocked by the violence of it. Until February 2018, the Columbine High School Massacre was the deadliest mass shooting in U.S. history. It is still the deadliest mass shooting in Colorado history.

What initially prompted Harris and Klebold to do what they did? I read that they had originally planned to bomb their school. Were they influenced by Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols, two men who were behind the Oklahoma City Bombing in April 1995? Reading up on Columbine, I don’t think Harris and Klebold were motivated by the same causes McVeigh and Nichols were, but maybe they admired the sheer number of people who died. And now, their community’s name is a code word for the mass shootings that have plagued the country over the past 24 years.

As I sit here typing this, I remember April 1995, when the Alfred P. Murrah building was blown up. That incident was inspired by another incident– Ruby Ridge in 1992 and the 1993 Waco siege carried out by US federal officials. The one thing these incidents have in common is a violent precursor. The old saying goes– “violence begets violence.” When someone is hurt or killed in a violent way, it inspires a violent reaction in other people. And, just like the cursed COVID virus, it spreads apace.

I have a Facebook friend who is an Air Force veteran and an ex Mormon. He lives in Texas, and espouses surprisingly liberal views. I haven’t seen him posting much lately, but when he does post, he often refers to “ammosexuals”. I like that term, because it really does seem like a lot of people are practically in love with their guns. Like… they almost get a sexual charge from owning and carrying a weapon.

While a lot of those folks claim to care about gun safety, and often bring up their Second Amendment rights, they have what I think are inappropriate reactions to mass shootings. It’s almost as if they forget that real human beings were hurt or killed by the shooter’s bullets. They have no empathy for what that must feel like. I’ve never been shot myself, but I would imagine it feels like a searing hot pain that blasts through the body as the person’s insides are suddenly given egress and blood and other “stuff” comes bursting out. Again, I am only speculating. I could be totally wrong. Maybe this is only inspired by what I’ve seen on television. Still, the idea of it is horrifying to me. Especially when it involves already born children.

Last night, I happened to run across an argument two people were having about gun control. The argument became quite disrespectful and abusive in a hurry. I later found out that these two people had been friends for decades, but they had a fundamental disagreement over guns. One person argued that we need more gun control. The other argued that guns aren’t the problem; mentally ill people are the problem. Then they queried whether or not we should be banning motor vehicles, since they can also kill or hurt a lot of people.

I was observing the argument and it occurred to me how ridiculous the gun lover’s argument was. Cars are meant for transportation. Guns are meant for hurting or killing living things or– maybe– target practice. But a person doesn’t need an actual weapon to practice their aim. They could use a laser gun for that purpose. Guns are intended to hurt and kill. Cars are intended to get people from Point A to Point B.

Yes, cars have also been used to hurt people, too. The recent case of Darrell Brooks comes to mind, as he drove an SUV into a Christmas parade and killed six people, injuring another sixty-two. However, Mr. Brooks’ case is a relatively rare one. It’s not like dozens of angry, mentally ill people have decided to crash their cars into parades, or other public events. The only other incident I can think of off the top of my head took place in Charlottesville, Virginia back in the summer of 2017, when a young woman named Heather Heyer was killed by James Alex Fields, Jr., a right wing terrorist who deliberately drove his car into a crowd. Besides the one fatality, there were another 35 people injured, which is no small consideration.

Although I do believe that people who go on shooting sprees are often mentally ill, in a sense, I also want to point out that the vast majority of people with mental illness are not dangerous. These shootings, which often involve radicalized white, male, right-wing terrorists, aren’t typically the people one might find in a psychiatric hospital. I’ve also noticed that the same people who blame the shootings on the “mentally ill”, are also people who don’t seem to want to do anything to help the mentally ill. They don’t vote for affordable and accessible healthcare, nor do they want to be mandated to have health insurance. They’re all about their “freedoms”, but they don’t seem to realize that feeling the need to pack heat every time one goes out in public isn’t very “freeing”– especially for those of us who don’t want to be armed.

I’ve mentioned before that I find living in Germany quite liberating. There are far fewer people with weapons here, so there are a lot fewer stories about people being killed because they were in the wrong places at the wrong times. I like the fact that anyone who carries a weapon in Germany has to go through a lot to prove they can handle the responsibility. It’s way too easy for Americans to get guns, and way too hard for Americans to access mental healthcare… or regular healthcare, for that matter. To me, this problem seems very obvious.

I understand that some people think the horse is already out of the barn on this issue– there are so many weapons out there that it’s impossible to collect enough of them to make a difference. And some people really don’t feel safe without their Smith & Wesson strapped to their holsters. I wonder if it’s going to take them being personally affected by gun violence before they realize that more guns aren’t the answer to this problem. Even if it really is an issue of the mentally ill running amok, there’s still the problem of them getting guns so easily, so they can do real damage to people.

Audrey Hale owned seven guns, all of which were legally purchased. Because of that easy access to guns, six people are dead. Meanwhile, Tennessee is banning drag shows and forcing people to stay pregnant. When are we going to realize that mentally ill people and guns don’t mix? Hale had a history of receiving mental health services. I’m sure in that respect, healthcare privacy laws were respected, and no one asked questions when Hale bought weapons. If Hale had been pregnant and wanted to terminate the pregnancy, people in Tennessee would have had a lot more to say about it. It boggles the mind…

Anyway… it turns out that my friend who was engaged in an argument about gun control is no longer friends with the person with whom he was debating. The conversation spiraled out of control from the get go, and became offensive in a hurry. No one’s hearts or minds were changed, and a very long friendship seemed to come to an abrupt end. My friend told me that the end had been coming over the past few years… probably when Trump came on the scene. It’s sad to see friends and family members so polarized over what, to me, seems like a common sense issue. But when it comes to guns, some people really are “ammosexuals”. They can’t stop being attracted to that killing device, and the imagined powers it gives them… until they actually hurt or kill someone and have to answer for that in some devastating way.

Well, tomorrow is April Fools Day. Maybe I’ll have a cheerier topic to write about then. Have a good Friday, y’all.

I took the featured photo at a Mix Markt store a few years ago… it’s a depiction of another thing that doesn’t mix– guns and booze! But even in peaceful Germany, some people worship weapons!

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expressions, music, obits

April truly is the cruelest month for some people…

I woke up this morning to read a gorgeous, heartfelt, loving tribute my cousin, Clark, wrote for his wife, Chris. Today would have been their 38th wedding anniversary, had his wife not passed away on April 10, 2022. My cousin has spent the past fourteen months taking care of Chris, who had cancer that spread throughout her body. I know my cousin and his family have faced cancer too many times. What makes the timing of this loss especially cruel for this couple is that Chris passed just days before their daughter’s wedding. But, as my cousins in that part of my family are very devoted to their Christian faith, they did note that Chris probably had the best view of her middle daughter’s spring wedding.

I’m not the most religious person myself, but I like to think that Chris was watching her beautiful middle daughter walk down the aisle to her new husband. It’s a comforting thought. As we’re all in need of comfort lately, I see no harm at all in believing fervently that Chris is celebrating among the angels with other loved ones.

A few days ago, one of Bill’s high school friends also departed this life. His circumstances were very different than Chris’s. Mark decided to die on his own terms. I don’t know the exact details surrounding Mark’s death, other than that he committed suicide. He evidently left no clue to his family and many friends that he was choosing to die. Based on what’s on his social media, many people were left in total shock and grief. I see that in the days before he died, Mark tied up some loose ends. He spent time with friends and loved ones, and took pictures, which he posted on his profile.

While I am generally in favor of letting people exercise free agency and self-determination, I can’t help but wonder how those people who spent those last moments of Mark’s life feel about his decision. Granted, there is nothing they can do about it now, which probably makes this even worse for them. Maybe it’s pointless to be angry about Mark’s final actions on Good Friday. I can only speak for myself when I say that Mark’s decision probably would have devastated me, if I had known him better. As it was, I never met the man in person, although I know Ex knew him. I wonder if she knows what he did. I’m not about to tell her, of course… But I do wonder.

Even though I never met Mark, I have been affected by his decision to kill himself. Bill hadn’t seen Mark in many years, but he remembered him fondly and was still upset by his decision to kill himself. I have been here to comfort him, which means that Mark’s death touches me, too. Yes, there were tears shed for him in our house, if that matters to anyone.

Bill and I both understand that there were obviously things going on in Mark’s life that must have been too much for him to take. What went wrong was obviously none of our business… and, when it comes down to it, death is something we all have to face at some point. Maybe it gave Mark comfort to go out on his own terms. I am a bit concerned for his survivors, though… especially the ones who were there at the end. He apparently never let on to what he was planning, and he never gave them a chance to voice to him how they felt about it. Maybe they feel cheated or angry… although so far, I’ve seen nothing but an outpouring of love and good wishes. Personally, while I’ll be the first to admit that I sometimes fantasize about doing what Mark did, I also think it was kind of a selfish thing to do. But then, I also remember that it was his life, and when it comes down to it, he wasn’t obligated to live for anyone. As far as I know, he had no children and was no longer married. His parents predeceased him. Maybe he just felt “done”. Or maybe he was very depressed or suffering from some ailment no one else knew about. I guess we’ll never know.

This morning, I noticed that I was getting a lot of hits from North Carolina. People are hitting a post I wrote back in February about a man named Chad Carswell. I had read about him in the Washington Post. Mr. Carswell was making news for needing a kidney transplant, but refusing to get vaccinated against COVID-19. To be honest, I wasn’t, and am still not, very impressed by that choice. However, I do recognize that not getting a vaccine is his choice to make. It’s his life.

My post about his case was admittedly a little snarky and, perhaps, even kind of rude. It’s been interesting to see the delayed reaction to that post from early February. I can see that the people who have found it are sharing it and clicking it repeatedly, also hitting the disclaimer link, and even my travel blog. I’m not sure what they’re looking for. My mind hasn’t changed about that situation, although I still agree that people should always have the right to make choices. That right extends to everyone, though. A surgeon has the right to refuse to perform surgery on someone who isn’t medically qualified to have surgery. I don’t know what’s currently going on regarding Chad Carswell’s case. It’s none of my business, and frankly, doesn’t necessarily interest me at this point in time. But obviously, something has triggered people to read my post about him. I do wish him well, even if I disagree with his decision not to get vaccinated. Hopefully, his decision doesn’t lead to his loved ones and friends mourning his passing in April, too.

Anyway, since death is on my mind today, I decided to record a song. I actually discovered this very simple song by John Prine only this morning. I thought it was kind of poignant and fitting, given how many losses I have experienced this April and in past Aprils… For some reason, April really is the cruelest month. It’s the month when it seems like so many people have died senselessly in school shootings, bombings, wars, suicides, and due to illnesses… As I watch flowers and trees literally bursting into bloom on a daily basis, I can’t help but think of people who have departed life in April, or have had their lives completely changed or ruined due to someone else’s choices. So below is my rendering of “I Remember Everything”, which was apparently released after Prine’s untimely and gruesome death from COVID-19. It gave me some comfort to sing it, even if it may not be among my better performances.

Incidentally, Switzerland is a place where people can legally choose to die… and it does appear to be a heavenly place to be in some areas.

I tried to do another video featuring my homely, middle-aged, mom-bodied visage on camera, but I couldn’t get the video to sync properly with the audio. I don’t look particularly great on camera as it is, and wasn’t wanting the video to look like a poorly dubbed martial arts film from the 70s. I got tired of screwing with it and decided to just use some photos from our visit to Switzerland last summer. The shots are of Lakes Zurich and Lucerne, which I found very peaceful to look at. “I Remember Everything” is yet another song I could probably do on guitar if I put my mind to it. Maybe I’ll try that at some point. But for now, here’s my latest musical effort. I hope someone enjoys it. I’m sure John Prine would have appreciated the chance to get vaccinated against COVID, although I really don’t know how he would have felt about it. I do know that a lot of people miss him, including relatively new admirers like me.

Edited to add… It occurs to me that John Prine died in April, too… and I just discovered another one of his songs. This one was about what he planned to do after death. It made me smile, especially since the chords are super easy and I could play along with it. Wonder if this is what came to pass for him when he did finally die in 2020…

I can actually play guitar to this one, and it’s quite fun to do so!

Now, as it’s Thursday and we’re about to leave town, I better close this post and get on with my chores of the day, such as they are. Gotta vacuum, you know… and walk the dogs.

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family, obits, tragedies

April brings new life… and for some, the end of life.

Happy Easter, everybody. We have gorgeous spring weather so far today. I don’t plan to do much, since everything is closed, anyway. For a country with so many atheists, Germany sure does go nuts over religious holidays. Everything closes over Easter, from Good Friday until Easter Monday, although things are open on the intervening Saturday. This year, I didn’t plan ahead well enough. We ran out of dog food for Arran and contact lenses for me, after tomorrow. Fortunately, the stuff we need will probably be here on Tuesday. I hope I managed to sock away an extra pair of contacts in my luggage so I will be able to see before the delivery gets here. I wish I’d had my eyes lasered years ago.

Historically, for me, anyway, April tends to be a “cruel” month, even though it’s also usually very beautiful. So far, this year, April has been punctuated by grief… not necessarily for me, personally, but for people I know or am related to.

It started with a guy I knew in high school. I had a lot of classes with him, but we didn’t run in the same circles. I never knew until I read his obituary that he taught special education at our high school for some time. He eventually left that job, but then had brain cancer. That’s what killed him on March 31st, just a couple of weeks after his 50th birthday. On April 1st, a lot of people were posting about him on Facebook, writing about what a kind person he was. That made me wish I’d known him better, but he was more popular than I was, and people in my high school mostly thought of me as a weird person. So the cute, popular guys never talked to me. I’m probably less weird now… or, maybe they admit that they’re weird, too.

The next person to go was my cousin’s lovely wife. My cousin and his wife were married in 1984, when I was 12 years old. I wasn’t at the wedding, because it took place in Georgia, and I lived in Virginia. My cousin and his wife were a beautiful couple, but very religious and politically conservative, as are most of my Georgia based relatives (and I have quite a few). I was briefly among the Georgia folks myself, but we had to move to North Carolina after about 18 months of living there. I was sad to go. I enjoyed Georgia.

My cousin and his wife had three gorgeous daughters who are the epitome of “southern belles”. They’re a very close-knit family. When my cousin’s wife was diagnosed with cancer last spring, and the cancer then spread to her brain, the whole family got t-shirts made and wore them to support her before she went into surgery. They took pictures wearing the t-shirts and holding up signs with Bible verses and slogans. We heard that she had done fairly well with the surgery. Then, there was not much news at all.

I was a little surprised to read that she had passed away last week, since I hadn’t known that her illness had progressed so much. I mean, I know something about chronic illnesses such as cancer, and when I heard about her initial diagnosis, I figured she might not have much time. But her daughters appeared to be having the time of their lives, which is what I’m sure she wanted for them. My cousin’s eldest daughter posted a gender reveal video for the baby she’s expecting. Then, she announced her mother’s death. I didn’t know she was so ill, so I didn’t know she was near death. Last week’s news of her death came as a shock to me.

I knew her middle daughter planned to get married on April 16th. That daughter shared a photo of her hand holding her mother’s hand. I could only see the hand in the photo, but it was pretty obvious just from that photo of her hand that my cousin’s wife was very, very sick. Her skin was yellow and mottled with purplish red splotches, even around her fingernails, which were lined with the same red. I guess it was bruising of some kind.

She was a very beautiful woman who was much beloved by family and friends. She was also very religious and had strong faith in Christianity. Although I am nowhere near as religious as she was, I like to think of her joining those who went before her, to include my aunt and uncle, and my cousin, who was her sister-in-law, as well as all of the other people who were in her life I never knew. I’m sorry she had to miss her daughter’s wedding yesterday, but her daughter did say she thought her mom would have the best view… I hope she’s right. It looks like her daughter had a beautiful wedding, at least.

And finally, the third death was that of one of Bill’s friends from high school. I never met this man myself, but Bill has talked about him throughout our almost twenty years of marriage. Bill was kind of a shy introverted type when he was a teenager, and he went to a public high school in Houston where there were a lot of wealthy kids. Bill wasn’t wealthy, but he did have an interest in the military. He joined JROTC and made some friends, which unfortunately included his ex wife. But one of the guys he met was a guy named Mark who was a year older than he was. Mark was kind to Bill. He had a great sense of humor and a talent for art. Bill really liked him a lot, especially in the days when he wasn’t very confident about himself.

The years passed, and Bill lost touch with his friend… but then along came Facebook, and Bill reconnected with him. They didn’t communicate much on Facebook, mainly because Bill barely uses it and never posts. One of Bill’s other classmates, a guy who friended me for some reason, announced Mark’s sudden death yesterday. Apparently, Mark, who was divorced, had no children, and had recently lost his father (his mom died many years ago), decided to commit suicide on Good Friday.

Mark’s Facebook posts left no indication whatsoever that he was planning to kill himself. On Friday, he just posted “Guys, it’s been a slice”, accompanied by a collage with pictures of him at different stages of life. I told Bill that his high school friend had announced Mark’s death. Bill looked him up and read all of the posts by people who were devastated by Mark’s decision. So many people asked why he hadn’t reached out to them for help. A couple of people wrote that there was nothing they could have done… which is probably true in a case like this. Mark never left a clue of what he was planning. Unfortunately, it sounds like people will always wonder what drove him to make this decision, although a lot of people knew he had “demons”. But then, don’t we all?

It seems unconscionable that in this season of renewal– with flowers blooming and babies being born– some people have died before their time. All three of these people, who touched my life before they passed, were folks who might have been considered too young to die. While all three deaths could be considered very sad and tragic, I am especially sad for Mark. The other two had family with them when they passed, but Mark apparently died alone, and probably violently. As awful as it is for him, it’s even worse for whoever had to find him and whoever will be cleaning up the aftermath of Mark’s decision. I don’t know the exact method he used to kill himself, but he did own quite a few firearms. Bill told me that he owned some Russian pistols that he highly prized. So, it’s likely that one of his guns was the tool he used to end his life “on his terms”, as one of his friends put it.

I try not to look at suicide as a moral failing. I see it as more of a fatal response to depression, which is a real illness. Depression can be deadly. Maybe Mark could have been helped if he had reached out for help, but there really is no way to tell. And, in fact, there may have been something else going on that we didn’t know about… and will never know of. At least it looks like he had some good times during his last week. Many friends wrote about how they saw him this week. I wonder if Mark thought about how they would feel after he died… having spent time with him having lunch or drinking beer… and then finding out that he was planning to kill himself.

I didn’t know Mark, but I was there last night as Bill teared up over the news of his death. It just goes to show that everyone affects other people… even people they’ve never met in person. But as someone who has experienced depression and has felt suicidal, I understand that things might have seemed hopeless and pointless, and maybe he felt helpless to change anything. And one more talk with a friend or a doctor might have felt futile. So he made a decision that impacted a lot of people he never even knew.

This morning, Bill told me that he used to envy his friends. At one time, their lives seemed better than his was. I asked him what he thought of that notion today. He said, “I prefer my life.” I’m glad to hear that, especially since younger daughter shared an adorable video of her little daughter yesterday. What a blessing it is that Bill can get to know his grandchildren, even if it is just on video. Seeing her so happy and energetic gives me hope for the future. I’m glad I can be part of Bill’s future, especially as he awaits the birth of his second grandson in a couple of months.

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Trump

A sick and demented three year game of Asshole…

Regular readers of this blog know that I went to a state supported college in Virginia, where four national sororities were founded. It was far from a dry campus, although I do remember that they tried to make the freshman residence halls “dry”. When I was in college, I learned how to play several drinking games. There was Circle of Death, Never Have I Ever, Kings, Beer Pong, Bullshit, Quarters, and Fuck You… But my favorite of all was a game called Asshole. I’m not sure why I enjoyed playing Asshole as much as I did back in the day. Maybe it’s because it was a game everyone knew how to play.

I remember one particularly rousing game of Asshole I once played with friends at my school. We were all sitting on the floor in a circle, drinking Mickey’s Big Mouth. Mickey’s Big Mouth, for those who don’t know, is a particularly potent brand of cheap malt liquor. No one drinks it for the way it tastes; they drink it to get drunk FAST. It comes in a green bottle that looks like a barrel or a grenade. It has a wide opening so it can be slammed. The night my friends and I were playing Asshole, we were being particularly vicious. The “Asshole” was required to wear an ugly yellow and green visor made of foam rubber. A tampon was stuck out of the top, making it look oddly unicorn like.

I remember that as we were playing this game, a friend’s fraternity brother was passing. He ducked his head into the dorm room where we were engaged in our game of Asshole and said with great admiration in his voice, “Mickey’s Big Mouth will fuck you up!” He laughed as he walked down the hall. As I reflect on the past three years of Trump’s leadership, I feel a sense of deja vu. Mickey’s Big Mouth will fuck you up… but so will years of having Donald Trump “lead” the country.

Last night, as I read about Donald Trump’s latest Twitter meltdown that basically invited private citizens to revolt against state governments, I was suddenly reminded of the game Asshole, which interestingly enough, is also known as “Presidents”. I feel like our country has been collectively playing a sick and demented three year round of Asshole.

What the hell? Is he out of his goddamned mind?

In the game of Asshole, players are assigned roles. The object of the game is to lose all of your cards first. The first person to lose all of their cards is the President. The President is allowed to make up new and strange rules that the other players have to follow. The next person to lose their cards is the Vice President. The ranking continues until there’s just one person left with cards. The last person to have any cards is the Asshole. The Asshole is basically screwed over by the other players, who try to keep him or her in the Asshole position by handicapping him or her with onerous rules. One rule, for instance, might be that the Asshole has to drink twice whenever someone plays a face card. The Asshole fetches drinks for everyone and when he or she doesn’t follow the rules, more drinking is required, which makes it harder to get out of the Asshole position. It’s not unlike real life, huh?

A rather dry but accurate video about how to play “Asshole”. The guy narrating doesn’t say “asshole”. Instead, he says “A-hole”.

As I was thinking about playing Asshole last night, I couldn’t help but realize that the roles in a game of Asshole seem vaguely familiar to our present reality. Trump is, of course, the President, and he’s acting just like a president in the game of Asshole behaves. A large number of poor, disenfranchised, or unlucky people from different places are collectively the Assholes… and Trump has his thumb on them, keeping them down in that position. Every day, his tactics to stay in charge grow more desperate and dangerous, and I fear that some bad things are coming as our demented “President” grows ever more unhinged.

Asshole used to be an amusing game, when I was young and totally healthy and strong. Even when I was the “Asshole” when playing with my friends, I knew it was a temporary condition (although I realize that some people think I’m an asshole even when I’m not playing a drinking game). Whoever was in the “President” position in the game was still my friend and it was all in good fun. Eventually, we all outgrew playing Asshole and getting drunk and reckless simply for the sake of getting drunk and reckless. We mostly took on more important responsibilities and the stakes grew higher, but more valuable. We now have a lot more to lose than a few brain and liver cells.

I worry that Trump’s vigorous, immature, and irresponsible tweets encouraging people to defy their local government officials may be perceived as permission to be violent. Trump stirs up people who are dangerous… people who cherish their guns and don’t want to be told what to do by anyone in authority, especially government officials. Many uneducated folks see this situation as government oppression when, in fact, it’s a pubic health crisis. Not only do I fear that people will get sick by defying the shelter-in-place orders, but I also worry that there will be more bloody violence as people try to get action by using weapons.

It’s not that violence is an unusual occurrence in the United States, particularly during the month of April, which is historically when a lot of bloody violence occurs. Ever since Timothy McVeigh blew up the Murrah Building in Oklahoma City in April 1995, and Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris shot up Columbine High School in April 1999, it seems like there have been more bloody acts of violence in April than any other month. In April 2007, Seung Hui Cho went on a shooting spree at Virginia Tech in Blacksburg, Virginia. In April 2013, the Boston Marathon Bombing happened. April is also the month that Adolf Hitler was born, and many very dark, evil people admire Hitler. April is also when the weather is warmer and people typically emerge from the dark cold of winter. As flowers bloom and grass gets green, the nuts come out with their guns. This year, people are even more pent up than usual. Trump’s inflammatory tweets might be like throwing a match at people who are already feeling volatile and unhinged.

But… it seems like to Donald Trump, this is all just a game, and his objective is simply to stay in power at all costs, no matter how many people get hurt. So he irresponsibly tweets, encouraging people to be disobedient and “rise up” against local government control… when he is the PRESIDENT of the United States! It’s his responsibility to be a LEADER that keeps things under control. Trump isn’t a drinker, but he is DRUNK on power and desperate to keep it. So he’s running the country like drunk college students play Asshole. And too many people are stuck in the Asshole role, unable to escape it. Add to that… Trump even speaks like a drunk person. See below:

That is crazy! It’s NOT the way a world leader should speak.

I know that a lot of people are scared and frustrated. Most people aren’t personally affected by the coronavirus yet, and they think this situation is simply an extreme way of getting rid of Trump. Trump’s base seems to be mostly made up of white people with conservative values who think the 1950s were a great time in our history. Even though Trump doesn’t really fit the clean cut 50s image, except for his desire to keep white men in power, they see him as their champion. They overlook the ways he’s not really like them. He’s like them in the important ways– because he’s white and male and doesn’t mind keeping down the people who aren’t white and male. So what if he’s not really a Christian? So what if he cheats on his wives, uses crude and abusive language, sexually harasses women, and screws over people, especially those who work for him? He’s rich and powerful, and in their eyes, that makes him a success. But he doesn’t care about them, and when they do what he’s encouraging them to do and wind up in prison, very sick, or dead, he’s not going to do a damned thing for them.

So… count me among those who would like to see this neverending game of Asshole with Donald Trump come to an end with a new, sober, humane president. Let’s change the game to something more productive. I’m really tired of wearing the foam rubber visor with a tampon poking out of it. Time to dry up… put away the Mickey’s Big Mouth and get back to being responsible world citizens before more people are harmed or killed.

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News, tragedies

April really is cruel…

Last night, as I was making more travel plans, I was blissfully oblivious to the horror unfolding in Paris, as its famous Notre Dame cathedral smoldered in a massive fire. I have been to Paris twice, but never managed to tour the cathedral on either visit. I do remember seeing it as we walked along the Seine, but I also remember my former best friend’s dad telling me back in 1992 to skip climbing the tower at the cathedral. I do like visiting beautiful churches in Europe, but it’s not really a focal point of what I do when I go places. Paris has a lot to see, so visiting Notre Dame was never at the top of my list of things to do there. I regret it now.

The cathedral was being renovated when it caught on fire, just as it was at Longwood when Ruffner Hall caught on fire. It seems that renovations can raise the risk of sudden fires.

It seems like April is often rife with tragedies. I never paid a lot of attention to it until around 1999 or so, when students at Columbine High School were confronted by the murderous wrath of Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold as they shot up the school. Other school shootings would occur during April, like the Virginia Tech massacre in 2007 and the Oklahoma City bombing in 1995. But it’s not just the shootings and bombings, or even T.S. Eliot’s famed words that make April cruel…

I remember in the spring 2001, when Ruffner Hall, the most historic and beautiful building at my alma mater, Longwood University, was being restored. I was then a graduate student at the University of South Carolina, about to finish my second year of a three year dual master’s degree program. The weather was warm and sunny, and I had visions of the end of the semester dancing in my head. I’m sure it was the same at Longwood, the college from which I had graduated seven years prior. In 2001, Longwood was still known as Longwood College. It was renamed Longwood University in 2002.

On April 24, 2001, just before students were about to take their final exams for the semester, the Rotunda caught on fire. Fortunately, because the building was being renovated, just as Notre Dame also was, priceless art and historical relics had been removed before a raging fire consumed the original building. That beautiful building held so many memories, not just for me, but for all of the students that passed through it after it opened in 1907. Longwood’s name has been changed a few times in its history. Before each name change, there has historically been a fire. There were also fires in 1927 and 1949; both occurred just before the school’s name changed.

A picture of the original Rotunda taken in the 90s, when I was a student. Inside Ruffner is a statue of Joan of Arc– better known as Joanie on the Stoney. We also have a statue of Joan of Arc on a horse called Joanie on the Pony. Paris’s Notre Dame, likewise, has a statue of Joan of Arc.

I happened to live in the Colonnades during the first two years of my college days. My freshman year, I lived in Tabb Hall, which connected to Ruffner. At night, when the building was closed to everyone else on campus, my buddies would sneak into the Rotunda area and box. I only recall watching this one time. I’m surprised they were never busted, to be very honest. I’m sure nowadays, they have security cameras. But it was a lot of fun to sneak into Ruffner and mess around after hours. Unlike the bell tower at Fordham University, there was no danger involved… The lights were on and there were no steep, spiral steps to climb… and no holes to pass through on landings. At the front door of the building, there was a slate step that had a deep indentation worn into it from decades of students walking across it.

Sophomore year, I lived in French Hall, which was also connected to Ruffner. French is no longer a residence hall, but in the 1990s, it had the largest rooms on campus. Some rooms held four students. Most had at least three. My room only had three students for part of the first semester. We had a roommate who moved in mid semester– she had been my roommate’s freshman year roomie, and she had to move from her room because she and her original sophomore year roommate were caught smoking marijuana. She didn’t come back in the spring. That was a pretty stressful, yet awesome year. I lived among friends.

The other two years, I lived in South Cunningham. The Cunninghams used to be the center of campus. They were eventually razed for a new student center. My former university is becoming less recognizable to me, as new buildings are being built and old ones are being rebuilt.

Ruffner was also rebuilt, and it now looks just like it did before the big fire of 2001. It took four years to rebuild the historic hall to its former glory, and during that time, Dr. James Jordan, an esteemed anthropology professor and archaeologist who taught at Longwood for many years, did several archaeological digs. He found many long buried relics among the ashes. The damaged step was found and when the building was reconstructed, a replica of the historic indented step was made for the new building.

As I heard about Notre Dame last night, I couldn’t help but remember the Rotunda at my alma mater, and how it’s been rebuilt. Maybe it’s not the same… Notre Dame has a history dating back to the 12th century. It took many years to build it, but only one fiery evening to destroy it. On the other hand… even in destruction, there is opportunity for new growth, new discoveries, and rebirth. I’m certain that in the ashes of the fire, new discoveries will be made, new knowledge will be gleaned, history will be made and recorded, and the cathedral will be rebuilt. In fact, French billionaire François-Henri Pinault has already pledged $100 million euros to rebuild the cathedral (and hours later, at least 200 million more has been pledged by other donors). French president Emmanuel Macron has also vowed to rebuild the cathedral.

This is an opportunity for people to unite. It’s an opportunity for architects, craftsmen, construction workers, archaeologists, students, teachers, holy people, and the public to come together in solidarity. Many new discoveries will be made and the cathedral, just like Ruffner Hall, will be rebuilt stronger than ever. But it will take time, effort, and money. I may never see the end result in my lifetime. Still, as bad as this is, it could have been much worse. As sad as it will be to dig through the wreckage, I know there will also be excitement and fascination. Every situation– even the worst ones– offers opportunities. So I will try to focus on that, instead of tragedy of the tremendous loss wrought by sudden fire.

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