So I’m breaking my schedule not by choice but because world conditions leave me no other option. There are some things that need to be said, and they need to be said now. Because there are things that need to be done, and they need to be done now.
We can’t wait any longer.
Enough isn’t enough…because if it were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation…again…and that’s a complete mindf-ck.
Am I surprised? No. Why would I be surprised? Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. So doing the same nothing is going to result in the same nothing. So, no…I’m not surprised.
Am I disappointed? Nah. Because disappointment is a function of expectation and when you expect nothing you avoid disappointment. That said, it’s a total fucking travesty that we have no expectation of those we have elected to serve us.
But am I totally fucking furious? Infuriated beyond comprehension? Sure am. For so many reasons.
So let’s start with those aforementioned elected officials. I was raised believing that voting was my civic duty, that voting was how I ensured my voice gets heard, and that if I don’t vote, well, I give up my license to complain. We vote ostensibly, to make our voices heard, and elect people to, presumably, amplify them. Or so I thought. But voting isn’t about my voice anymore, and I’m not sure it ever was. We’re muted by money. Loved up by lobbyists and lies. Gagged by greed. And bound by bravado.
Anyhow, let me run through some of my issues with elected officials:
Term limits. Please. Capitol Hill should not be Hell’s Waiting Room. IMO the longer someone is on the Hill the more removed they are from constituents, from reality. I just turned 55 and I know I’m not as sharp as a I used to be. My mom’s turning 80 next month. And she’s awesome. But I’m not sure I want her in charge of public policy. If term limits on the President are *so* obvious, shouldn’t other limits be equally obvious? Maybe it takes so long to get momentum because it’s what we permit. Maybe we change the rules and, surprise!, the game changes…the rules change…the players change…and so too do the outcomes. Maybe?
Lobbyists. Follow the money, Part 1. Any chance to grease palms and line pockets is a chance to make a difference. Yeah, you can make a difference alright. Blood. Money. You feel good about that all you pro-gun lobbying fuckers?
Corporate greed. Follow the money, Part 2. Obviously this is closely tied to FTM, Part 1, but it warrants its own line item, because it’s a whole other line item on the balance sheet. More more more more more more more…more isn’t better. Make no mistake.
Egomania. Life is neither a pissing contest nor a zero-sum game.
Hypocrisy. Protect the unborn. Fuck the alive. Being in utero affords you every protection, but once you come out, boy, head on a swivel. You’re on your own, and you’re fucked. ’Merica.
And since I mentioned voting being the path to procuring one’s license to complain, well, let’s talk about licensing and start with what it takes to drive a car. You have to be a certain age. You have to get a permit. Take driver ed, classroom stuff and driving stuff. Make an appointment at the Registry. Pass a road test. Have insurance. Lots. Of. Stuff. And over a pretty long period of time.
But to have a gun? Apparently being a constitutional right trumps the tiniest shred of common sense. Oy. Feeling homicidal? Have a death wish? Got an ax to grind? Here, have a military-grade assault rifle and enough ammunition to obliterate a third-world country. It’s your constitutional (may as well be God-given) right. Right?
What.
The.
Actual.
Fuck‽
The names, the faces, the stories, the hope, the possibility. As the great Maya Angelou said, “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” And in these moments of tragedy, I hope and pray that my untold story is coming alive in the right tone and at the right pace, that I’m living my best life, with empathy and compassion. But there well may be a greater agony, that of bearing the untold story of a loved one…who didn’t get to live their story…through no choice of their own, but rather due to the greed and ego-fueled choices of politicians across the country. That’s the greatest agony of all.
I don’t have kids, but I’ve been having trouble breathing today. Yesterday morning for no reason that I am conscious of I was thinking of my dad and decided to play Forever Young, the Johnny Cash version. It’s not on Spotify, so after YouTubing it I switched over to Spotify to listen to some other Forever Young tunes including the Dylan version. I learned later in the day that it was, quite coincidentally, Bob’s bday. Weird. I also learned later in the day of this unthinkable yet all-too-common massacre of innocents, this time in Uvalde, TX. Two teachers trying to save the kids, gone. 19 students, forever young. And then today at the gym, the Jay-Z version came on and the tears were all mixed in with the sweat. Everything comes together as it falls apart. It’s a 4-song playlist and maybe it will provide some catharsis.
As always, thanks for being here. See you next week, when I’m back with regularly scheduled programming.
Love you too. And God help America.