[Above Photo: My bedroom view. Forgive the screens and subsequent photo quality.]
12 June 2022
It is striking how genuine proximity can dispel fantasy, hatred, or indifference. The modest-sized (a few hundred) crowd gathered at Lincoln Park on Congress Street with spunky chants and challenging placards marched down into the commercial port district and back up to City Hall. I never located the members of the Maine Committee For Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, so it was at least that large. We heard from several teachers, several primary and secondary school students, and the Superintendent of Portland schools. The repeated message was “We shouldn’t have to be fearful of [attending/working in/overseeing] our schools.” This sentiment is being repeated all over America these days. It is similar, I imagine, to what Blacks, Hispanics, Asians, and members of the LGBTQ communities have felt for years upon stepping out of their doors (or going to bed at night, in some instances). A fearful population is more easily manipulated and controlled, which is one purpose of the recent GOP divisive rhetoric. I loved the sign, “Well-regulated militias do not kill children.”
Misreading the 2nd Amendment so that it justifies 18yo men buying semi-automatic military-style weapons is easy if deprived of its context. For the “Originalists”—which is a pretty dopey idea, frankly—they are intentionally misreading the intent, and content, of the Right to Bear Arms. (I always liked Robin Williams’ manic rant about “the right to arm bears.”) The amendment was expressly for the purpose of maintaining a well-regulated militia (read the National Guard, which each state has) in defense of the new democracy from our common enemy, the tyranny of a minority. We’d recently shuffled off a monarchy and the FFs were concerned lest the habits of dominance and submission reassert themselves. It was not a permission for every person to own, and carry openly, their military-grade weaponry. One of my favorite travel signs was in the Luang Prabang (ancient capital of Laos) airport: “Please show your weapons.” Another, commonly seen upon entering hotel lobbies in SE Asia, “No weapons or durian allowed.”
New Zealand, Scotland, and Australia reacted sensibly and democratically to gun violence of their own, with a consequent dramatic drop in instances of the same. The culprits here are money for our “bought” elected officials and a potent political rallying point.
It’s not as though guns make us safer, Hollywood aside. Note that John Wayne evaded all military service in WW2 by making movies pretending to be a fearsome warrior and getting rich doing it. Most non-criminal gun owners who turn their guns against a person [often mistakenly] kill a friend or family member. But since there are laws prohibiting research on gun violence—How did this happen?!—and, of all manufacturers of ANYTHING, the Rugers and Remingtons of this country cannot be sued, we cannot know the details of it all for certain. There are 74 distinctly different semi-automatic rifles for sale manufactured in the US alone, so imagine the number in people’s homes.
We talk about the Uvalde and Buffalo and Parkland and Stoneman Douglas HS and Columbine HS and Pulse Nightclub and Mandalay Bay Casino and Tree of Life Synagogue and Texas Tower and Virginia Tech shootings, but seem to forget the more-than-1/day other mass shootings that are occurring right now in the United States. As well as the suicides and one-on-one gun violence. It is another pandemic. Gunshots are the leading cause of death for children in this country. Where is the Surgeon General? Where are the voices of our public health leaders? Why are they not shouting out warnings?
As I was walking to the march, a heavy-set man rode slowly past me on a bicycle, muttering “Guns don’t kill people. People kill people.” True enough, but arm him with a hunting knife [Better yet, a butter knife.] …. such nonsense people believe. It makes you long for the leadership of an enlightened aristocracy. But wait, how do you define “enlightened”? And how do They?
The January 6 Committee hearings didn’t disappoint, especially Liz Cheney and Officer Edwards, the girl-next-door who was filmed being slammed to the concrete with a heavy metal bike rack, knocking her unconscious. Hats off to them all, with no political posturing or grandstanding. “Just the facts, ma’am”, as Jack Webb used to say.
There is a porous wall of green in front of all 3 panels of the bay window in my bedroom, in the middle of which I have planted my writing desk. It is like living in a treehouse, without the disadvantages. I recall Freeman Dyson’s son describing the wild storms he endured (? enjoyed) while living in the two-story treehouse he built in a mammoth Douglas Fir on the coast of Vancouver Island. It is thrilling to realize some of our “crazy” ideas.
I’ll join Polly and members of the Dessertine Clan this afternoon at Hadlock Field to watch the Portland Seadogs thrash the Hartford Yard Goats. Their names are much more evocative than their Major League counterparts’. Others in the Northeast Double A league include the Fisher Cats and the Rumble Ponies. This will doubtless be a fun outing, complete with hot dogs and ball park mustard. I once sprang for the $20+ crab roll at a Giants game in then-Pac Bell Park. It was actually worth it, with a surfeit of fresh crab. It was glorious taking the ferry in the early evening from Alameda Island, packed with like-minded celebrants, to be dropped off at the Park and returned, hoarse and pleasantly tired, some hours later to our car. Kayakers chased the homers delivered to McCovey Cove. And, as always, Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” as we exited the stadium.
I assembled an actual bed yesterday and put a mattress on it. One more and the place is suitably furnished. Whew!
A Psychiatrist in Myanmar 