Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,
Here I am, finally checking out the blogosphere, and I found an email from fishducky, who was worried about me because I live in Jacksonville, Florida.
I found out we'd had a mass shooting on Sunday when I received a text message from my oldest sister that said "Hope you weren't at Jacksonville Landing today." I had no idea what was going on. I turned on the TV and whoopie! we'd made MSNBC because a guy at a gaming tournament shot and killed two people, shot and wounded nine others, and then killed himself.
I usually spend Sundays with the Wooters man, but on this particular afternoon, I had shopping to do. I've been to the Landing on the St. John's River a total of once, I think in 2009.
I emailed Willy Dunne Wooters and said
Oh Willy boy. I'm so glad I know you aren't the kind of person who would go to a gaming tournament at the landing.
These kids grew up playing shooting games and listening to NRA telling them how cool it is to carry around semi-automatic guns with laser sights. What could go wrong?
Of course, the shooting didn't happen because a particular kind of person goes to gaming tournaments. It could have occurred just as easily at the Target where I browsed.
We walk in danger. We sleep in danger. We also walk and sleep in safety most of the time. We could be even safer if we ever have a president, senators, and representatives who don't kowtow to the NRA.
STOP SUPPORTING THE NRA. DON'T GIVE THEM MONEY. DON'T TAKE THEIR MONEY.
IF that ever happens, then maybe, just maybe, I'll never see my city on the news again––except when we have a hurricane, or maybe because something good happens here because miracles happen every day.
Infinities of love,