The Second

The Second Amendment (Amendment II) to the United States Constitution protects the right of the people to keep and bear arms and was adopted on December 15, 1791, as part of the first ten amendments contained in the Bill of Rights. The Supreme Court of the United States has ruled that the right belongs to individuals, while also ruling that the right is not unlimited and does not prohibit all regulation of either firearms or similar devices. State and local governments are limited to the same extent as the federal government from infringing this right per the incorporation of the Bill of Rights.

Above paragraph is from Wikipedia.

I am not a firearms person. Yes, I have shot guns. No, I do not own them. We have a situation in this country. It is guns. We are the most heavily armed nation in the world not including our military. We also have one of the highest, if not the highest murder rate in the world, civilized or not, and I use the term civilized loosely. These are the facts, not an opinion.

So here's my question. What the hell do we need all these guns for? I hear the argument, protection. Okay, protection from what? What are truly the odds that someone is going to barge into your home? Who are you trying to protect yourself from? If you are that afraid, are you wearing your weapons 24/7 inside your home? Why not? In most areas of America, the average person could walk outside their home at any hour of the day or night, look up and down the street and not see a place where there was a crime committed, likely in more than a year. So I ask again, protection from what?

If you want to have a gun for protection, go ahead. Does anyone in this country need a so-called assault rifle? Do you expect to be holding off the Russians or the British? How about the Iranians? Any group out there roaming around your neighborhood? Not likely. How about a random person? Okay, that's a possibility. The Second Amendment gives the authority of the government to regulate those firearms. It's time they do so.

There is no need for the citizenry to possess any type of weapon that is military or para-military grade. If you want to own a pistol, rifle, shotgun, that's fine. Automatic weapons have no place in this country. The cry of if I give up my gun only the criminals will have guns is not a valid argument. Let the police handle the criminals. Most people that come into harms way from criminals are there because they choose to be. They have put themselves in a situation they shouldn't be. Sure, there are neighborhoods where violence is a fact of life. This isn't a perfect society. There isn't one and never will be one.

The spate of school and public shootings in recent years points to how this is a failed system. In the past, killers were secretive. Few that I can remember in my lifetime before the recent decade put themselves out there for public consumption. Why the change? Society and how we communicate has changed. It is a look at me society from the news cycle to the phone in your pocket. We can no longer permit anyone to have their fifteen minutes of fame for this type of crime, a crime caused by weapons no citizen needs to possess.

Do we need more regulation? Probably not much. Likely all we need to do is enforce the laws already on the books. Is the system bogged down? Sure, but issuing a permit and weapon to someone because four days is too long for the system to work properly is turning a blind eye to the problem. If the person is not properly vetted, they don't get the weapon, period. Background checks need to be finished, not stalled.

We have a problem in this country and the status quo is no longer acceptable. As is often quoted, the definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over and expect a different result. We can no longer wait for a different result. Do I have all the answers? No, I don't. But it's time for those who govern this country to pull up their bootstraps and face the situation. It's time our leaders stare down the barrel and do what needs to be done.

Take away the picture ...

... and what do you get?

As a writer, one needs a support group of sorts to gather information, learn about trends in the writing world and find out what works for other authors. Who better to gather this info from than other authors?

From that, as I have mentioned a time or two before, I am a member of an online writing group. But what are we really? As I was thinking about them the other day, it occurred to me how different and far-flung this group is.

If you took each of the author's self photos off, all you would have is a group of names. What can you distinguish just from that? Not much really. One can tell gender mostly, but not much other than that. Even if you think, 'that is an Irish, or German, or Russian name', that means nothing. Any of those names could fall anywhere within the United States or anywhere across the globe. We are a mobile society.

As it is the group numbers near ninety members. We range in age from early twenties to those in their seventies (perhaps older). We are men, women, sexually straight, gay and bi-oriented. We are truly a global collection as we live in places as diverse as Japan, Ireland, Spain, France, South Africa, Mexico and many others. We have names that would be recognized in the public outside of the group, and others few would recognize. The one thing we have in common is the writing and publishing world.

So what does that mean? What it means to me is we can learn from each other no matter what our background or nationality. We are a couple years old as an 'organization' and I have learned a tremendous amount from being associated with them. I do not place any of the members in a preconceived pocket. I don't read a comment and say, oh, that's from one of the gay guys, or the Canadian, or the Texan (of course there are a lot of Texans in the group. Maybe they just need more help than the rest of us).

If you were to put all of us in a room, I think it would be a magical place. We've grown to know each other because we share a love of writing, of authorship, of striving to become successful in the same vein. We celebrate each others success. No one disparages another because they are more successful. We are different yet we all share a common bond.

Unfortunately too many in the real world close themselves off from others because they are different from themselves. When that's the case, they have failed in the world at large. It's time to look for what brings us together instead of the differences we have. If all you can do is label, you will never be able to open the door. I challenge everyone who reads this to open the door to the world. I think you'll be surprised at what you'll find.

Four eyes again

I am once again, able to see. I have a love / hate relationship with wearing glasses. I assume most who are forced to wear them have the same relationship. I broke both my glasses several months ago and have not had the time to get them replaced. I've been forced to rely on reading glasses to get by. Not ideal.

I did try contacts many years ago. Hated them. Tossed them after six months never to return. But I digress. I now have my new glasses. They're progressive lenses. My last pairs were such. I thought it would be difficult to get used to but it didn't take long. I was surprised, but after relying on readers for a couple months flat surfaces are warped a bit. I remember when I got my first pair some thirty-mumble-mumble years ago. I was working in a grocery meat department. I was sure I was going to cut my fingers off trying to get used to them.

The blessing is, I no longer have to put my phone into camera mode to read a restaurant menu. Glasses are a difficult lifestyle. I am an active person and they bounce all over the place. That's how I broke the last two pairs (at work). Maybe I should bill them for it. Na, they'd just say no.

I see fine at a distance, close, not so much. I keep a pair of readers in my car, a set on my work bench and a pair next to my bed. I might be able to ditch the ones in the car now. Well, maybe just save them for restaurants.

Now, I look around the store where you buy them and I see all these pictures of fantastic looking people wearing glasses; wide frames, dark frames, bug-eyed glasses, etc. They all stand out. But, those styles aren't for me. I would rather have a pair that someone really doesn't notice on my face. I also don't like thick frames at my periphery. I don't like to look to the side and see the temple arm of the glasses. I want to see where I'm looking. My Beloved has glasses that have thicker arms. What I don't like about that is she has beautiful eyes and from the side, I can't see her blues because of her frames.

With all that said, I am the proud owner of two new sets of glasses. My world is again in focus. I can even write at the computer without adjusting every five seconds. Oh well, it's nice to be able to see again.

Star Eagle Six

Once again I have stepped out of the bounds of my past writings. My current work in progress, (WIP) is a science fiction tale. It is the struggle of a small confederation of home world planets engaged in a bloody and consuming ten year war. The following is an excerpt from the book. I hope you enjoy it.

“So, what do you need from me exactly?”

“Practicality, captain. Practicality.” She pushed her fork into her food one last time before pushing the tray away. “I can look up the specs on the Talon all day long, but what I can’t look up is real-world scenarios. Any piece of equipment should live up close to design specs, but what does it really do? How fast does it turn; do its engines cycle hot? You know, that sort of thing.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Andren.” Turner lifted his fork, pausing as he thought for a moment. “The Talon is simply the best fighter I ever flew. It’s design specs run right down the map like they’re supposed to.” He lifted his hand, taking his first bite. He raised his brow at the unexpected flavor. “This is pretty good.”

“Humph. I think I just lost all respect for you,” she replied.

“In all seriousness, there hasn’t been a better fighter built by any of the home world planets.”

“Then why did they replace it?”

“For the same reasons engineers replace everything, no disrespect intended,” he said as he looked up to her. “Someone has a better idea or technology improves to such an extent that it allows for evolution.” He dipped his fork again into his plate. “That doesn’t always mean it’s better though.”

“Have you ever piloted the Harrier?”

“Never had the chance,” he replied. “Besides, I couldn’t do it for long.”

“Why?”

“Evolution, by dear Andren. Evolution.” He shoveled another mouthful, letting it slide down gently. He leaned back, letting his hand come to rest on the table, the fork gripped tightly. “Fighters now are all tied into your brain. They react to your reactions, to your thoughts. It’s instinctual, but that comes with a price.” Turner crossed his arms and stared down at the table. He seemed lost in thought.

“What kind of price?”

The pause in the conversation hung in the air. Turner continued to stare, his eyes unfocused.

“A loss of humanity.” He blinked and looked back up at her. “We are in danger of becoming what we abhor. This mechanized society where we become one with our weapons, one with our ships all in the name of saving ourselves.”

“If we don’t save ourselves, what is the point of this war, Frank?” She leaned forward planting her elbows firmly on the table, her posture rigid. “We must survive, damn it. I won’t be wiped from the face of the universe without a fight.” Her faced reddened as the passion in her voice began to climax. I will not let my planet die in vain.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied. “I didn’t mean …”

“Of course you did!” She pushed herself away from the table. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

“Andren no, please.” He leaned forward reaching his hand across the table, his touch falling short. “We’ve both been through a terrible ordeal.”

She sat silent staring, her blue eyes burning with a renewed fire.

The 39th

It was with a bit of sadness I watched most the the press conference today where president Jimmy Carter announced to the world he has cancer. Having been through that a couple years ago with family, that diagnosis hits home for me.

Now, back in the day, I wasn't a big fan of his politics. However, I did respect him. In my mind it's hard not to respect someone who has served his nation for as long has he has, both in the military and as a public servant. And there is what the theme for the upcoming presidential election should be. Just because you don't agree with someone's politics, doesn't mean that they don't deserve your respect.

Now, there are a lot of politicians I don't respect, however over the years, my respect has grown for Jimmy Carter. He has stood the test of time and lived up to his beliefs. On more than one occasion, I have referenced not making anyone who lives in the public eye your personal hero. Although I don't count Mr. Carter as a hero, it is with utmost humility that I would count him as someone whom I do look up to. He has fought in the public eye against poverty here and abroad, and has contributed more than his fair share in dealing with the Middle East nations. Likely, he has done more to promote peace in that region of the world than most of the leaders who reside there.

As well, he has stood by his beliefs, both personal and religious. I for one can never remember a time where he embarrassed himself in the public spotlight. He has been a moral compass to this nation in times where that was needed. Not that many took it upon themselves to adhere to his voice, but his voice was there none-the-less.

I wish president Carter well in his upcoming battle with this insidious disease. He shall always have my undying respect. God speed, Mr. President.

Fallen Idols

Long ago in a blog post I'd have to dig around to find, I was talking about heroes. Now, I do remember that at the end of it, I revealed that I don't have any heroes outside of my Beloved Father. He raised us by going to work nearly every day of his life. He loved our mother with all his heart and he was true to what he believed it.

The recent revelations of Bill Cosby bring this crashing back to earth. In the days of my glorious youth, Bill Cosby was one of the funniest people I had ever heard. My family owned his comedy records, you know, those things that spin beneath a diamond needle on a revolving plate. He made us laugh; laugh hard. His tales of growing up rang true to our childhood. With three brothers and a sister, we could all relate.

Then he became a star. He broadened into television and had one of the most iconic roles in television history; Cliff Huxtable. In that role he was true to the character we all believed him to be. And that is what we as the consuming public are left with, a hollow shell of a fictitious man. He has now shown himself to be not what the world believed.

Then again, who of us are what the world believes us to be. We all possess pasts and demons. That is the nature of the species we have evolved into. So, what is the point of this all? Simple, actually. Put your faith in those around you. Look to the virtues extolled in the real world in which you live. Who are these people? They are your parents, aunts and  uncles, grandparents and co-workers. These are the heroes in the real world, not those the world of show business and sports put up on the table.

If you want a hero in life, someone to look up to, look to the left, look to the right; you might just be surprised by what, or who, you see.

Just don't

I heard a new commercial the other day that struck a chord with me. It brought back memories of a time when I was indestructible. The commercial was meant to scare and make you think about your life and choices.

The woman in the commercial has a monthly procedure to have an injection into her eyes. She has failing eyesight do to a choice she made, a life choice. She was a smoker. It caused her sight to fail and she lives with the choice and the pain for the rest of her life, yet she considers herself lucky compared to others.

Thirteen years, six months, thirteen days, nineteen hours and eighteen minutes ago (as of this moment), I had my last cigarette. I started like many other teens. Someone else smoked and I started to just do it. Everyone smoked at work, so I did too. I started with L&Ms. It was what my father smoked. It was the way of their generation. Sainted Mother was a Belair lady. She liked the menthol. Odd that although most all of my nearly forty aunts and uncles smoked, and likely many of my cousins, I was the only one of my parents five children that took up the habit. That is something I've not really understood.

I smoked for twenty-five years, but in the last few, I knew it was something I needed to quit, a habit that I had to break. It took time. It took several attempts and over a year in the last attempt. The first time I seriously attempted it was the summer before my sophomore year in college. I had stopped for three months, but the stress of the second year of the School of Architecture was too much. I caved. The second serious attempt ended the year my Beloved Father died, 1993.

It wasn't until 2001 that I again took up the challenge. As a long-time menthol smoker, I discarded them and switched to non-menthol. Cigs were getting expensive. I began buying brands I didn't like. It helped. I didn't want to smoke as much. You need to remember, this was a time before most of the now, well-knows cessation aids were common place. Another thing that helped, which is something I still don't like to do to this day is, I hate to carry things. Hauling around a pack and a lighter was irritating. I hate carrying a cell phone to this day, although I have one.

It came down to a test of my will. I wasn't going to let this insidious thing control my life any longer. At 2:15am on January 5th, 2002, I flicked my last butt out the window of my car as I passed over Cleveland Avenue on the outerbelt. I was coming home from my store's inventory. It was a struggle, something that for most of the next eight days I thought about continually. I needed to keep my hands busy. I gained twelve pounds in ten days. Then, it was like I was free. The craving vanished quickly and I haven't smoked a day since.

With all the information we now have about what tobacco does to the body, I find it hard to fathom how anyone can put a lit bomb up to their lips. I know the struggle. I know how hard it is to quit. But quit you must. It's not cool. You don't look hip (or whatever the word now-a-days is). You are simply chained to a decision you have made that will do nothing but cause pain and hardship in your life.

Just don't

If you don't know the famous actor in this clip, well, that's how long I smoked. 

It's important ...