I’ve been writing this week on my Medium publication, The Writing Prof, about guns. Regardless of whether you are pro-gun or anti-gun, guns are killing America. Our country is literally dying because of its cultural obsession with guns.
This is a subject I’ve felt strongly about my entire life. I hate guns. I don’t think a populace needs guns. I think the Second Amendment is outdated and in order for America to survive, we must change it.
My life’s trail, as I was told in not so sympathetic of terms, more than my share of tears. But it’s nothing compared to the waste land left behind by guns for the family and friends of those affected.
One of the three family suicides in my family was due to a gun. I was sheltered from it, separated by miles and years and estrangement. Of course, it still hurt. But there’s something about gun violence that has always penetrated deep to my being, cutting life short unnecessarily, that I’ve always been keenly aware of, and that has affected me deeply.
I haven’t grown numb to the carnage. No. Every shooting makes me sadder and angrier that about this senseless violence. I don’t care about the fucking cause - it’s not video games, it’s not mental health, it’s not politics - or maybe it’s all of that. But at its root, it’s too many guns and too easy access for people, mostly young men, who are angry and embittered by a country that is failing them.
America is literally dying.
So for this Memorial Day, in addition to remembering the people who fought for our country, remember the families who lost loved ones to gun violence.
Hug your friends and family. Have your barbecues. Drink your beer. But this is no celebration. It’s a wake.
I’ll be back on Friday.
Be well, my friends, and stay safe. For me, I’ll . . .
Just keep writing!
If you could please share this newsletter with someone you know. The more audience I have, the more possibility I have of finding a traditional publisher for my memoir. Thank you!