Archive for June, 2015

The first time I heard this phrase, “The mobility of content,” was yesterday while driving along the most glorious mountain views of Albemarle County. It was a sunroof-open-mobil moment on the good ole fashioned radio. I was listening to NPR and an interview with the creator of Netflix, talk about how they came up with the idea of original content. Most people think “House of Cards” was their first original pilot series. But no, Little Stevie’s “Lilyhammer” was being produced in Norway; they were six months in, when The Boss’ bestie cringed at the idea of releasing all of the Scandinavian mob-driven drama at once. Think of it like a record album, Steven Van Zandt was told, and so we begin.

While celebrating Ada’s 91st birthday, I grabbed her iPad and told her, “You’re gonna love this.” Ada has been a Marriage and Family Counselor for almost as long as I’ve known her. In fact, when she returned to school in the 60’s, thereby creating a role model for all young feminists in the NY/NJ metropolitan area, I had just started dating her son. “It’s about two couples, Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin play the wives,” I crooned in her ear. I had just finished semi-binge watching “Grace and Frankie” on Netflix, a comedy about divorce loosely, and I wanted her to enjoy it as much as I had. https://www.netflix.com/title/80017537

Now I hate to get prejudicial, but for the most part I’d bet not many octogenarians+ know from streaming content. Ada is unique, in many ways, but her tech skills are particularly excellent. She gets her news online and in paper form, she shares photos and corresponds via email, although she prefers actual phone calls! She can Facetime with her Great Grandchildren in Nashville, and now I’ve got her on Netflix! We only watched two episodes of “Grace and Frankie” while I was there,  but I’ve got a feeling this woman who wrote her dissertation on humor in conflict, will become addicted in no time.

My guilty pleasure is watching “Bloodline” late at night when Bob’s working the evening shift. I’ve plowed through all the original content Netflix has to offer, “House of Cards,” “Orange is the New Black” and yes, I even started out long ago with “Lilyhammer” when we first got our Apple TV. I can watch Netflix on a plane, on a train, or even in the rain. I don’t like to watch on my phone however, even though “Lawrence of Arabia” has been watched on cell phones worldwide more than any other content. Imagine that.

But “Bloodline” is skeeving me out. It’s Shakespearian in its ethos, a family tragedy enfolding in the beautiful Florida Keys. If you want to see what drug/alcohol addiction is really like, how it can corrode character from the inside out, just watch Ben Mendelsohn play the “bad” brother Danny. And our Albemarle neighbor, Sissy Spacek, is compelling as the Rayburn family matriarch.

“Bloodline” is cleverly constructed, but a lot of the mystery hinges on Danny. Mr. Mendelsohn (who made his name in the United States in the Australian crime drama “Animal Kingdom”) is suitably inscrutable — his character is a quicksilver manipulator who can seem benign one second and malevolent the next. His good looks are bleached out by bad behavior, and only his smile, wryly sweet but fleeting, restores his boyhood charm. At his best, Danny seems well-meaning and misunderstood; at his worst, he looks a little like a middle-aged Robert Durst.     http://www.nytimes.com/2015/03/20/arts/television/review-bloodline-on-netflix-depicts-a-family-with-nasty-secrets.html

Since we can carry our entertainment with us, wherever we go, and now not just with Netflix, but Amazon, Hulu, Google and even HBO will be streaming content, http://www.digitaltrends.com/movies/best-media-streaming-sites-services/ I wonder how this will change story telling. Or is a good story a universal thing of beauty, passed down in its oral tradition from generation to generation, since we could paint an image on a cave.

Scene From a Birthday

Scene From a Birthday

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Kinda makes up for that Supreme Court decision that gave Bush a second term, doesn’t it? Just when we think politics is all smoke and mirrors, something like this comes along, and renews my faith in our old republic. Confederate flags are coming down, the Affordable Care Act is here to stay, and love in all shapes, sizes and genders wins! To honor the SCOTUS decision on #MarriageEquality, Facebook friends turned their profiles into one long stream of colorful rainbows.

And an old friend posted this lovely sidebar:  http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/wonkblog/wp/2015/06/26/justice-scalia-suggests-asking-a-hippie-about-gay-marriage-heres-how-to-find-one-near-you/ It’s funny because the only person who still talks about Hippies in my life is Ada, and now it’s more of a funny, wistful look back at her life raising three sons in the 60s.

Leave it to Chief Justice Tony Scalia to make this analogy, and I’m trying to decipher his meaning here, about Justice Kennedy’s albeit sentimental ruling. We should just ask a “Hippie” what he thinks about the ‘freedom of intimacy” or in other words, in Scaliaworld of Hippie-past, we should all just have us some free love.

He first quoted the majority opinion, which said that “‘the nature of marriage is that, through its enduring bond, two persons together can find other freedoms, such as expression, intimacy, and spirituality.” Then, he added, “Really? Who ever thought that intimacy and spirituality [whatever that means] were freedoms? And if intimacy is, one would think Freedom of Intimacy is abridged rather than expanded by marriage.” “Ask,” he added, “the nearest hippie.”

Well first of all Tony, I think that spirituality kinda means religion, for those of us not tied to a church. The Post article was so hysterical, I had to share it with my very own Hippie-in-Residence, Bob. His first response was that old Tony is “…an asshole.” His second response was, “Did you see where Hippies live?”

Oh yeah, The data Estately used to round-up their Hippies was based on these variables: “The number of communes and intentional communities per capita in each state, the number of food co-opers per capita in each state, the number of local Etsy stores per capita selling hemp, patchouli and tie-dye products; and the percentage of Facebook users who express interest in the Grateful Dead, Phish, cannabis, tie-dye, peace, LSD, Bob Dylan or hippies.” 

And of course, my Old Woodstock alum mentioned that Vermont was the number one state to find a Hippie! And it just so happens the Rocker will be playing the Friendly Gathering festival in Timber Ridge, Vermont tonight on the Wood Stage with The Parlor Mob http://www.frendlygathering.com/#about

So for all you reformed ex-Hippies, new-age Hipsters, and just plain folks looking to rock out hard, why not take a road trip to the Green Mountains and get your Mob on? http://www.parlormob.comparlor-mob

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An interesting word, “contempt.” It implies dishonor, and three more D words – disdain, disgrace, and one may even result in being despised. It’s a strong word; if you should find yourself in contempt of court you may find yourself in jail. But contempt is a step beyond the worst case, like despair trumps depression. Which is why it was so contemptible for an Alabama Congressman to use such semantics on a radio show recently.

Republican Rep. Gary Palmer told a radio host he thought it was too soon to be calling for the removal of the Confederate flag from the SC memorial in front of the state house. He just kept clinging to his Southern tradition as he elaborated:          “…people that have an agenda seeking to exploit a tragedy…to me, that’s beyond contempt.”

Now granted, I’ve taken my time trying to exploit this particular tragedy, one in which a white supremacist zealot sat in on bible study in a black church in Charleston, SC for an hour, and then executed nine people in cold blood. When I saw the picture of that deranged 21 year old, my first thought was, “He’s crazy as a loon.” And news junkie that I am, I followed right along with the debate. Should this be called an act of terrorism, or a hate crime? And I think you know which side of the fence my sentiments were falling right? Because to me it’s no worse to kill someone in a house of worship than in their own house – or in a Kosher market or a movie theatre – or in a college or an elementary school.

Why has no one asked the important question over Father’s Day weekend? Why did the shooter’s father buy him a handgun for his 21st birthday?! Most parents can tell when their kid is going off track, and from all accounts this particular young man was sending out all kinds of clues. But I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, the mentally ill will always be with us, but how crazy are we Americans for not doing something about gun violence in this country! We had a legislator in this state who was attacked by his psychotic son, with a knife, because guns had been taken out of the home. Can we not agree on background checks at the very least? https://mountainmornings.net/2014/01/26/political-willpower/

A debate about the Confederate flag only serves to pollute the waters. Yes, I agree the Rebel flag belongs in a museum. I was semi-shocked to find it flying on houses in rural parts of the South still, but that involves private property and if I want to fly a cardinal flag outside my house I have that right. Do we fly a Nazi flag outside the Holocaust museum? A blogger I admire, who happens to be African American and Jewish, posted a comment online that the erosion of voting rights in the South should be our priority, and not where or what is on a flagpole. And I get it, I really do.

When our President must use the N word to make his point, and shrugs his shoulders to show he has little political leverage or will left to fight the gun lobby, well I just wanted to cry. That was after listening to the families of the #Charlestonshooting forgive the killer. What should we forgive him for exactly? I’m getting out my rosary beads, and this will be my prayer:

 “Forgive us Lord for letting this happen again and again and again”


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I was going to write about Father’s Day. About all the great Dad episodes over the years in this family. Instead, it was becoming a list of Mommy fails:

About how I never wanted to say to my kids, “Just wait ’till your father comes home,” and then one day I did. About how I quit  teaching the Bride how to drive. After she hydroplaned her way through five trees and over the Hope Road sign in the rain, Bob gallantly picked up the pieces of my shattered psyche, and taught her how to drive.

But maybe that’s the point? When we’ve had it up to here with the mundane, daily life of children, housekeeping, cooking, laundry, driving, pet care and generalized nursing duties. like picking bees out of the Rocker’s clothes, well a good Dad knows when to step into the fray. The 50s are gone and Father Doesn’t Always Know Best, but it would behoove him to know how…

To calm a frightened child at night

To cook a meal, or pick one up

To do the dishes

To help his child learn to ride a bike, and drive a car

To tutor/help with homework, including advanced math and science projects

To encourage critical and creative thinking

To not mix colors and whites in the laundry

To ease the passing of an old dog over that rainbow bridge

To remind his wife that everything will be alright, again and again, and that she has a partner in all this

And to stick around until that time when it’s just the two of them again, and they can lean on each other

A Good Husband and Father will bend with the wind, above all he must not be rigid and set in his ways. He will put his family first, ahead of his career. He will protect them at all costs. And even if he was hit as a child, he will never hit his children or break their spirits. He would never use words or discipline to humiliate them. And if his Father left, or he never knew him for some reason, this Father will be doubly determined to never abandon his family, he will ride out the storm of life. He will be like that Israeli fruit, the Sabra; an Israeli born citizen named after a prickly pear – tough and treacherous on the outside, but soft and tender on the inside.

I remember dancing with my Foster Father, or really standing on his feet while he twirled me around the kitchen. There was a dogwood tree outside the window, and he would whistle a tune and sometimes play the spoons! I remember playing gin rummy with him almost every night, for pennies. I remember his little presents for me every day when he returned home from work at Picatinny Arsenal – a flower, a pretty rock, or a colored pencil. Ada always said he was a hard act to follow and she was right.

Fatherhood today can be a challenge, a paradox. But when it’s done well, the outcome is pure love. When your children yell, “Watch Daddy, watch me,” all they need is to know that you love to watch them: climb trees; play an instrument;, swim without swimmies; or ride a bike. All they need is your presence. So sleep late all you Dads out there, put down your devices, and then remember to play and have fun tomorrow! Oh and Bob, your second and third Grand Daddy acts are priceless!IMG_1753

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Once upon a time, a girl named Rachel Dolezal thought she was black. She sprayed on a tan and permed her hair and that was that. She worked towards racial healing and social justice, until her really mean white parents spilled the beans, which left us feeling flat.

Poetic justice? Karma? What we think about Rachel says a lot about who we are. How does one forge an identity? Politicians of old would play up their status as first generation immigrants. You could be proud to be Italian, or Irish when in truth not very long ago, your last name meant you would be unelectable. I was so proud when Jack Kennedy was elected President. It proved that not all Irish Americans/Catholics were under the Pope’s thumb. 

But Rachel was passing as an African American. She lied and said her father was black. No one has mentioned that not very long ago, light-skinned black women might pass as white. Reconstructing themselves to fit into the class and culture of the majority in order to gain access to all that being white in the early Twentieth Century had to offer. 

So does that mean that today being perceived as black, or mixed race, is more empowering for young white women, offering them more economic and cultural opportunities?

Can we wear our identity in the same way we pick our clothes? I don’t think so. Being true to our “authentic self” is the first order of business in the world.  We might study Spanish, dye our hair black, and live in Puerto Rico, but if our parents and grandparents immigrated from Sweden to MN that doesn’t make us Latino. We can assimilate a certain culture sure, and if we marry into that culture/race the chances are pretty good our children will be able to check that “mixed” box on their college applications. But we are still unabashedly pasty white, no matter how much we may like the music and food of a different race. 

Today is Ada’s 91st birthday. Many in her generation changed their names or even denied their Jewish heritage in order to live in America without prejudice before and after the Holocaust.  Just look at Madeleine Albright. But not Ada, she fought to keep her identity, and when our little Happy Bud had his Bris, I could tell that she was pleased. 

When we all melt into the American pot, sometimes we miss out on the spices that make us the most enticing and liberated country in the world. We need to embrace our differences, add some pablano peppers and cardamom so that we can grow as a nation

Eventually we will all check the mixed box, or maybe that question will no longer be asked – no one race will be marginalized – and then we can truly be “post-racial.” A beautifully pregnant young ER doctor in a Mexican hat does not make her Mexican. 


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In case you didn’t get the YouTube link:

so this didn’t work, I have a wordpress problem

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Summer’s here and it’s time for singing in a horse barn! And dancing in the street too, but I just had to drop a quick note about the Groom. Some doctors play golf in their free time, some fly planes or collect trains. And then there is that rare one, that cerebral brainiac that can also play a guitar like nobody’s business, and write his own lyrics too, and sing…oh, and did I mention he can sing! It’s our Groom. J&M  0975

He’s been in a band since high school, and indeed created a band during his residency at Vanderbilt. With a few other talented, young doctors they were known as The Bourbon Family, and they played roots Americana music all over the state. They’ve played at weddings, bars, and private parties. They even produced a record! https://itunes.apple.com/us/artist/the-bourbon-family/id445461482 And more importantly, almost every night, he would play and sing to his new baby girl.

Then the doctor/musicians finished their residencies and went off to pursue fellowships all over the country. The band broke up and you might have thought the music died. Except the Groom didn’t move, he was still playing his guitar and singing to his family in the Music City where he continued to be a Chief Resident and continue his education in Public Health. Until one night at a Full Moon Pickin Party in Nashville, this happened – here is his Facebook post:

So, at last week’s Full Moon Picking Party, a bunch of recording engineers from Dark Horse Institute (of Faith Hill, Tim McGraw…Megadeath) set up a makeshift recording studio in one of the horse stalls. They grabbed people walking by and recorded videos of them playing. Whoever’s YouTube video gets the most ‘Likes’ wins $15,000 worth for free recording time at Dark Horse…which for me would mean an official reunion for The Bourbon Family.
I don’t think I have ever asked Facebook for anything before (partly because I lost my password for about a year and had to reset it for this post)…but this would be pretty cool. Please consider using the mouse on your personal computer to place a ‘Like’ on the YouTube video attached by hyperlink.

And here is the YouTube link! Please consider “Liking” this post on your computer, the link won’t work on your cell phone

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Bet you thought this was going to be an essay about Caitlyn Jenner. To spin Dr Henry Higgins, “Why cant’t a man be more like a woman?” But no, this is about the woman who replaced my favorite columnist at the NYTimes (Anna Quindlen). After all, I fashioned my writing at the Berkshire Eagle as a mix of personal and political a la Quindlen for years. But today, let’s talk about Dowdworld for awhile, shall we.

Anyone would think I’d love a fiery, redheaded, post-feminist, liberal writer from a big Irish family. And i did, until things began to change. Ever since the Bride went off to medical school, I’d email her Dowd’s columns, in the same way the Flapper would cut articles out of the newspaper to send to me. “Dowd nails it again!” might be the title of one such email, hoping to keep my daughter’s feminist mind clear in the midst of mind-grueling study. Then, a few weeks ago, the Bride sent me one of her columns; the email header read “WTF Maureen Dowd?”


Well naturally I jumped to Dowd’s defense, who was castigating emergency medicine in print, or digital, or however one reads the Times these days. I replied immediately, “Ok I get it. But she was just quoting an egotistical neurologist who compared body parts to cars. I wouldn’t be so mad at her; it’s an opinion piece and it’s her niece.” As if I was making up an excuse for a beloved elderly aunt, or sister, who slipped up on her medication. But the Bride was really mad, and later sent me the reply to her article by an Emergency Physician.

Today, I’m wondering why Dowd is so Debbie Downer on Hillary. Now she did give Bill a lashing over his indiscretions in the Oval Office. She sounded downright Republican there for awhile, and some blamed this on her Roman Catholic background. Still, one might expect her to be sympathetic to the woman best known in the GOP press for her pantsuits and helmet hair. Conservatives like to throw strong adjectives around about Clinton, like how “secretive” she is, how she gives off an “atmosphere of hostility,” and she holds a “forced smile” while being a “shapeshifter.” And these are NYTimes columnists!

“And oh yeah, “she can’t figure out how to campaign as a woman.” That from Dowd, who has spent her career at the Times personally attacking Clinton.”                                                                                          http://mediamatters.org/blog/2015/06/10/the-curious-way-new-york-times-columnists-are-c/203934

How would you have Hillary campaign “…as a woman” Maureen? After reading this critique in New York Magazine, “The Redhead and the Gray Lady,” http://nymag.com/nymetro/news/people/features/14946/ I may have a clue what she’s talking about, which is to say, I’m very disappointed in you Maureen. Here is the first sentence in this article, you can get the gist: “Possibly, there are even more naked women at Maureen Dowd’s house today than there were when this place was JFK’s Georgetown bachelor pad in the fifties.” 

Maureen to Hillary: “You seem like an annoyed queen”

Me to Maureen: “You seem like the queen of mean.”


Dowd’s Vanity Fair cover

Anna Quindlen, I miss you! Because politics isn’t all about money, and power, and sex. Is it?

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Every now and again we go all out. Usually it’s for a big event, like our wedding anniversary. To celebrate our early years in the Berkshires, we would travel across state lines to Hillsdale, New York for an excellent French meal at L’Hostellerie Bressane, a country inn. According to a review from the 80s, the rooms had a “rustic charm” and the kind of attention to detail that is similar to a French “auberge.” Of course I thought of an eggplant, but auberge comes from an old Germanic root and means an inn or tavern.

Now I was not entirely new to this type of laid-back luxury. When I was young, some of my earliest memories are of my older sister Kay taking me out to “dine” in New York City’s finest clubs and restaurants. Long before food network stars, there was a certain understanding that Lutece was the best of the best French bistros. It was THE place to be seen in the 60s, and has been recreated on the set of Mad Men. I always felt like such an impostor, a country mouse taking the bus from NJ to my big sister’s upper East Side apartment; being scolded corrected about my burgeoning Jersey girl accent; being taught what fork to use when, and how to eat a baguette like a lady. She was my Auntie Mame and I was her willing student.

Lutece was in business for 43 years, but alas has fallen prey to the new cuisine of a new world. Andre Soltner was not just the chef, he was the owner and greeter at the door. He swept the floors and ordered the flowers. A choreographer in the kitchen, he never opened another Lutece, there was only one and will be only one. Maybe it closed because of that, because its entire existence depended on just one man.

I could never have opened a second restaurant, though many people suggested it,” said Mr. Soltner, who missed a grand total of four days of work between 1961, when Lutèce opened, and 1994, when he sold it. “I had to take responsibility for each person’s pleasure and well-being. It was my job.”


A luxurious meal of old may be hard to come by today, with restaurant “themes” and chemical gastronomies of celebrity chefs who open multiple eateries around the country. But Bob and I managed to find that old world charm again for our 36th wedding  anniversary dinner in Virginia. From the moment we pulled up to Chef/Owner Patrick O’Connell’s The Inn at Little Washington, we knew. https://www.theinnatlittlewashington.com

We were greeted at the door, by name, and asked if we’d like to sit in the dining room or on the porch overlooking the garden. I could imagine secret liaisons between the ghosts of political power couples lurking in the corners, so I chose the garden room because I loved the light. Chef O’Connell transformed this sleepy town into a world-class destination, in the most gorgeous rolling countryside an hour from Washington, DC, just a year before we were married.

O’Connell has been referred to as “the Pope of American Cuisine”. His orientation is different from most chefs today primarily because he considers himself to be a restaurateur and as the title implies, his goal is to actually restore and heal people – the preparation and presentation of food being but a single element in the process. Selecting The Inn at Little Washington as one of the top ten restaurants in the world, Patricia Wells of The International Herald Tribune hails O’Connell as “a rare chef with a sense of near perfect taste, like a musician with perfect pitch.”

What an inspiring, delightful tastings menu! My palate and nearly every one of my senses was awakened The service was impeccable. Our waiter appeared just as we thought we might need something, as if he could read minds. He was professional but not stuffy, prompt but not intrusive. He asked about allergies because the chef was preparing an amuse bouche – it wasn’t called that, but occasionally we’d be surprised by a small bite between courses. Silverware was replaced immediately, and water was poured simultaneously; like a French Foreign Legion drill team. Bob chose the Menu of the Moment and I chose the Enduring Classic Menu, without the wine pairings:

A Shot of Chilled Minted English Pea Soup

Chilled Maine Lobster Salad with Marinated Hawaiian Heart of Palm

Carpaccio of Herb-Crusted Baby Lamb Loin with Pistachio Ice Cream

                          Pan Seared Rockfish with Braised Baby Bok Choy and Softshell Crab Tempura

Huckleberry Marinated Squab Breast with a Crispy Potato Galette

Veal Shenandoah: Local Prosciutto Wrapped Loin of Veal with Country Ham and Fontina Cheese Ravioli

The Inn at Little Washington is a member of the famed Relais et Chateaux. http://www.relaischateaux.com/en/search-book/hotel-restaurant/washington/#.VXMNgKaCblI Long before we heard of “farm to table,” small, exclusive restaurants were practicing and cultivating partnerships with local farmers. Created in France in 1954, today there are 520 establishments that bear the esteemed fleur de lys around the world. “Relais & Châteaux is an association of the world’s finest hoteliers, chefs and restaurateurs that has set the standard for excellence in hospitality. Relais & Châteaux has redefined luxury hospitality by emphasising holistic experiences that transport its guests, taking them on a sensual journey and introducing them to a deeper, truer understanding of the Art of Living.”

IF you were married in June, I wish y’all a very happy anniversary! And feel free to tell me what you do to celebrate your anniversary. IMG_2717

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Look around you America. If it looks like you’re surrounded by Barbara Striesand’s least favorite color, orange, you’d be right. And to be honest, being a strawberry blonde meant I avoided that particular hue too. But today is National Gun Violence Awareness Day, and I thought I’d share a few facts with you this morning while I listen to Ms Bean snooze.

Gun injuries to children and young adults cause twice as many deaths as cancer!

Now just think about that for a second. Think about all those pink ribbons, yellow bracelets, and fund-raising schemes non-profits have come up with to draw attention to a disease we still can’t quite pin down. Is it hereditary or arbitrary? Is it environmental or viral? We know some people have the right sequence of genes to make them more susceptible to certain types of cancer, but we still don’t have a cure.

Look at Beau Biden. He died at about the same age that my father died of the very same tumor. Robert Lynn left 6 children behind. Brain cancer is a death sentence 66 years later. Our society is pouring money into research and development to fight cancer, but in our nation’s capital, the NRA is pouring money into the bloody hands of politicians. Why? To keep doctors from asking questions of parents about guns. To get guns on college campuses. To fight any legislation that might make purchasing a gun difficult – background checks? So what if you have a restraining order and domestic abuse issues, step right up and tell us what kind of rifle you like.

Gun injuries cause five times as many deaths as heart disease.

Well now we’re talking. The American Heart Association once thought that educating Americans about their risk of heart attack and stroke was their main mission. Today they’ve upped their game, to include educating us on our diets, legislating “heart healthy” packaging strategies state by state, fighting childhood obesity and running anti-smoking campaigns. “Sitting is the new smoking” one doc told Bob at a recent medical conference. Leverage that against gun lobbyists spouting “freedom” like they invented the word. The freedom to walk into a movie theatre in Colorado, an elementary school in Connecticut, or a college in Virginia with a rifle. The freedom to leave a handgun unlocked and loaded where a child might pick it up. These should be the NRA’s four freedoms.

Gun injuries kill 15 times as many people as infections! 

MERSA? Tuberculosis? Flesh eating bacteria, SARS and the flu? HA, we may have some antibiotic-resistant strains roaming around the world, but they pale in comparison to the sheer number of guns and ease of availability we Americans have simply taken for granted. So every time someone dies from, let’s say West Nile, since I just happened to experience that horrific infection, 15 people die from gun violence.

A child shoots herself in the face; a child shoots his friend in the yard; a child shoots his mother while sitting in a shopping cart playing with her purse…

I am so sick and tired of reading about the ways we humans can so easily kill each other with guns. No other country in the world is as lax as we are in regulating guns. Make women wait 2 days for an abortion and watch some video about it beforehand, maybe even get a pelvic ultrasound in the interim, sure  –  but make you wait for a background check before buying a gun? Nonsense.

I’m wearing orange today for my grandchildren, so that they may grow up in a country without this scourge of gun violence. Because we need to elect leaders whose pockets are not lined with blood money.  IMG_2705

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