The iconic gun fight, whether at High Noon or in the OK Corral -- a great American tradition for (we were told and apparently believe still) maintaining law and order. These days what I read in the paper is usually not about a duel, more often about an unarmed person is riddled with bullets from policeman's guns.
I don't know what was going on with that young woman from Brooklyn yesterday in Washington but I am once again sickened that an unarmed person ended up riddled with bullets from policemen's guns. Usually, of course, it's a non-white young man with the cop's excuse "I thought I saw him reach for a gun." What fear, what love of shooting, what misdirected sense of duty, makes these cops so ready to shoot people?
There was a child in that car. It's miraculous that the child wasn't hurt in the rain of bullets. The incident, and so many others I've read with great frequency, makes me sick at my stomach and ashamed of this country's trigger happiness. It's our tradition. It includes sending jillions of arms and thousands of men into foreign countries ready to shoot on a moment's notice. Sunday's NYTimes had a major article on children killing other children with guns found loaded in their homes. Isn't anyone else horrified?
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!