25 May 2022

I would not have a child today.

If I were young enough, no matter how much I wanted to, I would not have one.

I know the pain of infertility; I know the disappointment of not having that child. I also know the impotence of something happening to one’s child, happening right next to them. I know that stab of crying why without having an answer. I also know I was so very lucky in that the outcome was landed in my favor, and I went home with my baby.

He was right next to me. Someone tried to run off with him. I have had nightmares about that since it happened almost 39 years ago. I feel the panic, the nausea, and the pain…but I got to take my baby home.

In the years since, I’ve felt he was safe. I allowed him to go outside and play. I sent him to school without worrying that the worst would happen; I never felt that someone with awful intentions would breach the school and hurt him. I had faith that the adults in charge could protect him.

But now?

Every day, putting him on a school bus, I would worry. Dropping him off, I would worry. Is this the school in someone’s sights? Is this the day?

When the Boy was growing up, I always felt like I could keep him safe. He was damn near stolen from me, and yet I felt I could keep him safe. I always felt the schools could keep him safe.

I no longer feel that way.

Our kids are not safe. No matter how much lip service we pay, citing stats and theoretical likelihoods…they are no longer safe.

I would not bring a life into this world the way it is now. It's more than this; the reasons are many, but right now this is at the top.

Our leaders are not willing to do the hard things necessary to stop the violence; too many people are so attached to their guns and shout about the second amendment, they vote for the people who are happy to take money from the gun lobbies, and for what?

Because their guns are more important than our kids?

Every time this happens, every time there’s a school shooting—yesterday’s was #27 this year, and we’re not even 6 months along—some of the first reactions are “Well, now the libs are gonna try to take our guns.” Kids die, and they’re more worried that some ethereal liberal deity will swoop down and pull from their mostly untrained hands weapons that they don’t really need. That’s not an exaggeration; Ted Cruz immediately began spouting about how the left would use yesterday’s shooting as an excuse to take away guns. There were posts all over social media spouting rhetoric: well, this is why I always carry; no one’s gonna do anything like that while I’m around.

Yes, they will. And you won’t be able to stop them. Your notion of the good guy with the gun fails to take into account that they’re going to have a bigger gun, don’t care about you or your life, and will probably enjoy taking your life. It especially doesn’t take into account the fact that once law enforcement arrives on scene, they won’t know that you’re the so-called good guy. They’ll just see someone with a gun. And they’ll do their jobs, react as if you’re the bad guy with the gun. They don’t have a choice.

It’s only been a day, and the outrage over just the idea that someone might take their guns has people shoving aside the fact that 21 people are dead, 18 of them children. The grumbling is so loud that they’re not listening, but for once, maybe, shut up and pay attention to something other than yourself.

No one is coming for your guns. The “libs” just want some common sense. Registration of weapons. Training. Testing. All those things you’re willing to do in order to get a driver’s license.

A waiting period. No one needs a gun right then and there. If you can’t wait, you probably shouldn’t get it. And no, I don’t care if you feel like you need to be able to pop into Guns & Ammo to buy a rifle for that last minute hunting trip. Plan better. That’s on you.

If you’re one of those who clings to the notion that the left just wants to take what’s yours, if you’re more upset at the idea of losing those things over the deaths of people, your unwillingness to accept some gun control tells me so much about you.

You want armed guards in school before you’ll accept gun control. You want to arm teachers before accepting gun control.

You want to turn our schools into prisons before being willing to do the most basic things to protect those kids.

But we’re the United States of America and we have rights!

I’m guessing that won’t be for much longer.

I honestly don’t think that a child born in the U.S. today will be a citizen of the U.S. in twenty years. We’re imploding on so many levels, we’re regressing, we’re racist as fuck, we’re angry and lashing out, and gun violence is one of the symptoms.

We’re not safe.

Our kids are not safe.

And we’ve done this to ourselves.

 

19 May 2022

Ok, wow, I did not realize that I’d gone so long without posting anything here…which goes to show how much I talked about my cats. Without those furballs, I don’t seem to have a lot to contribute, unless you want me to geek out over all the new Star Trek choices or Doctor Who. Because I can do that; especially with the new Doctor announcement, I can squeal a lot.

I can squeal over what I’m writing…I’m about 150 pages into a Wick book (which has been surprisingly difficult to write without Max sitting here meowing at me nonstop; I’ve scrapped hundreds of pages in the last 6 months but I’m in a groove now.) And when I’ve got the vomit draft done, the first draft will debut online first, on its own site. Will I monetize that, when I’ve never done that with a blog before?

Probably, even if its just a tip jar. Max’s books are how we generate our annual charity donations, and last year, without a new book, it was a bit…slim…by the end of the year. The Spouse Thingy made up the difference for the most part, but still. That was something I felt helped me make a contribution, and I’d like to continue it.

Other book in the works is the cycling book. I’m nowhere near as far along with it, but that’s fine. I’ve done some long-term test rides on a couple of bikes and have notes; the cargo bike was terrific but I sold it to make room for the next one, and it’s a keeper.

Today I took delivery on 2 folding electric bikes, and I’ll ride them over the summer…but not solely because book or not, I have a 300 mile goal in September for the Great Cycle Challenge and I can’t see doing it on one of these.

By the time I got them put together (10 minutes each bike, tops, it was mostly unfolding the frames) and charged, it was 90 degrees outside. We opted for a very short test ride to the little park nearby, where we rode around in circles for a bit. Only 1.5 miles total, but I can already say that I am too tall to ride this for more than 8-10 miles, which is fine because I suspect that’s as long as the battery will last.

It could turn out to be a fun in-town or take-to-a lake kind of bike, or for someone with a short commute to work. But, we’ll see. It’s hard to tell anything in 1.5 miles.

Well, it was easy to tell I did not get the clamp on the seat post tight enough, as evidenced by the seat sinking all the way in when I sat on it. That was slightly undignified. Would have been funny if it had happened slowly, while in motion, leaving me to wonder WTF was happening.

Too many tacos, Karen, that’s what was happening.

As we’re rolling into summer, that’s what I’ll be doing: writing and riding, often at the same time because that’s how my brain works. I get the mental work out of the way when I’m on the bike, and get the words written down when I get home. And sometimes, they even match up. Sometimes. More often it’s: ride, come up with a sterling narrative—a BRILLIANT narrative, one destined to ear awards—get home, sit down, and that’s when the drooling starts because my brain just nopes right out of there.

At least my brain is doing something.

Shuddup.