The events yesterday in Newtown, Connecticut are yet another tragedy beyond my powers of speech and thought to fathom, much less comprehend. As a father of two adults who will always by my children (neither of whom are involved in yesterday's carnage and catastrophe) I very much admired the words of the Father-in-Chief yesterday when he spoke of the emotions every parent, everywhere, fears but feels at moments such as these.
As a matter of full disclosure I should tell you that I know no one in Newtown, Connecticut, as I request of the larger-than life media personalities across my state and throughout my country that we hold all the arguments on every aspect of the gun and gun control issue until after the grieving moms and dads have had an opportunity to bury their children.
Your position(s) on the topic doesn't upset me in any sense, nor should mine, but I worry about our timing. No one's dead baby (and every child no matter old or young child is someone's baby) should be wielded as a visual aid or to underscore someone else's talking point.
As a matter of full disclosure I should tell you that I know no one in Newtown, Connecticut, as I request of the larger-than life media personalities across my state and throughout my country that we hold all the arguments on every aspect of the gun and gun control issue until after the grieving moms and dads have had an opportunity to bury their children.
Your position(s) on the topic doesn't upset me in any sense, nor should mine, but I worry about our timing. No one's dead baby (and every child no matter old or young child is someone's baby) should be wielded as a visual aid or to underscore someone else's talking point.
Our satellite TV news trucks have become clown cars and the sh*t seems to gush from them as they careen around the next corner and lurch to a stop at the scene of the obscenity. Those high paid superstar anchors and anchorettes tuck and roll, hitting the news desk even before the van has come to a full stop and the technical director is fading up the opening music while simultaneously racking the closing credits. Cue the talent.
We have a crew on scene as the churches empty, the hearses slowly roll by, and the graves are dug but not yet filled. Music swells, caps and out. Fade to black. Then we strike the set, load the vans and head off to the next point on the distant horizon. The dogs bark but the caravan moves on to 'our next really big shoe.'
Is it too much to ask that this time we behave otherwise? For those who believe in a God, and at the risk of eternal damnation might I ask, how does your God let this happen over and over and over again to the most innocent of the innocents? All I can do as a parent is hold those who yesterday lost a child in my thoughts while they hold their lost loved ones in their hearts.
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