Last night, we had one of those strange summer storms that doesn't go the way you expect. There had been all sorts of warnings on TV, and I had put my emergency bag at the head of the basement stairs in case I had to retreat down there. The sky wasn't the greenish color that you expect from a strong, possibly tornadic storm; it was orange, even on the eastern horizon, bizarre for 9 pm. There were dramatic black clouds and there was lots of lightning, but very little thunder and virtually no rain or wind, although west of here was inundated with several inches of water. My transistor radio kept interspersing classical music with Lake Superior maritime warnings, but in the end it was, I guess you could say, all bark but no bite. More storms are expected today (the sky is looking very peculiar again) and we'll see what they bring.
I guess I'll leave analysis of steps forward and backward in the gun debate to others. All I know is that I have never felt very "American", and at this moment I feel less so than ever. There is very little about our way of life that I understand, but the weapons phenomenon is the most baffling of all. Why do we, as a nationality, seem to have such a willingness, even an eagerness, to "protect" ourselves from our own fellow "countrymen"? Why do we seem to have the desire to attack other people at the slightest provocation? Why are we so angry? Our country was birthed in war; does that mean we are destined to remain in a continual state of conflict? Last but not least, would a society more respectful of women (and the value of love) operate this way?
If there are only two things in this world, love and fear, then we must be the most fearful nation of all. It is sad. It is embarrassing. It makes me wonder how we are respected on the world stage, although we still rightly inspire in other areas. My only longterm consolation is my firm belief that humanity is entering an era so unified and aligned with love that people will eventually have no use for weapons. Attacking other beings (or other countries) will be considered so bizarre and pointless, the phenomenon will die out -- and I suppose people with that inclination will as well. This storm will pass, but it may take years. Will I still be here? Who knows? And overpowering environmental shifts may make the gun debate moot.
Speaking of the environment, I have just had one of those mixed senior experiences. I had bought some environmentally-friendly dish detergent and was eager to try it. Yesterday, I struggled to pull up the push/pull plastic cap, and once I did, I squeezed and squeezed, and only the smallest drop of detergent came out. I blamed my poor right wrist, broken three years ago, and my advancing age, and instead of being happy with my purchase, I became demoralized and frustrated. So this morning, after another fruitless effort, I decided, heck, I'll just have to twist the whole top off each time...but once I did this, I discovered the problem. The top of the actual bottle was sealed with a little dime-sized piece of plastic! And despite the minuscule little additional tab of plastic I was apparently supposed to pull this thing off with, I couldn't do it! Eventually, I used a paring knife to poke a hole in the plastic circle, and re-screwed on the plastic cap. Lo and behold, I can now easily squeeze out the desired soap. But really? What is the point of adding a little extra iota of plastic to this product? Plastic bottles can be recycled (whether they all are, I don't know...) but it's these little extraneous bits of un-recyclable plastic that are going to kill us, especially given that their existence is fear-driven. As a "senior citizen", I can live with the remote possibility that someone might randomly put something nasty into my bottle of dish detergent. If they do that, whether I live or die, that is their bad karma, not mine. What I can't live with is struggling to open every single bottle and jar I buy these days -- milk, jam, relish, pain reliever, shampoo...I keep a thick blue rubber band at hand in the kitchen at all times, which sometimes helps me grip better. You know you're in your own "new era" when you start thinking twice about your purchases, not because of the environment but based on ease of opening! When did this happen?! (At sixty-five?....)
Hang in there, folks. I guess if nothing else, it's all "interesting"!
