I'm Thinking of Joining the NRA

Hear me out.

My son went to school in Montana where hunting wild animals for food is a statewide pastime. I met a bartender who killed a black bear. That bear fed him for a season or two. I've had quail at a dinner party once and I had to pick out the buckshot before I could eat it. I am fine with people hunting deer and ducks with hunting rifles.

I am not fine with people hunting elementary school children. That, my dear friends, is bullshit. 

You need a license to catch a fish in the State of Washington, and that is even for catch-and-release. Should we have a license to hunt people? With limits and shit? Pedro and I had to report to the Department of Wildlife how many fish we captured last year. We could have a Department for Hunting People. We could differentiate by age, gender, race, ethnicity, housing status, addictions, mental health status, etc.. We could have a point system, where different groups are worth some many points, and each hunter is allow a max. Shooting a white middle-aged man would automatically blow your quota unless the guy was a homeless drug addict who shat in your rose garden. And I wouldn't be exclusive to guns! 

You could hunt people with a bow and arrow for all I care. It would a heck of a lot harder, and meeting quota would be challenging. I mean, schools could train the average kindergarten teacher how to defend a classroom against a nut job with a bow and arrow. Likewise, imagine a bow and arrow on a crowded subway. They wouldn't have room to pull back the string. Plus, there is a lot of skill involved. You'd have to take lessons, be coached, and practice before you could be effective.

(I can't take all of the credit for this idea. Jonathan Swift's A Modest Proposal was my inspiration.)

I digress.

I've given money to various organizations supporting for sensible guns laws. You can see how well that worked. Instead, I think I need to join the NRA. According to Wikipedia, the NRA has an estimated five million members. What if I joined, along with let's say ten or twenty million of my friends who support commonsense gun laws. I could run for President of the NRA on a platform of reform. Or, I get someone else to run, someone more popular than me. As a former PTA leader, I know how to run a membership organization and get stuff done through proper process and protocols. I could fill an entire slate or officers. I could get propositions before the general membership. We could change the NRA report card for political candidates for those who support commonsense gun laws. The NRA had a $432M annual budget as of 2018. With an additional ten million members, that number could go up to $1.3B. Wow! We could get some serious legislation passed with that kind of dough.

Covid, the Garden & the Little Cloud

More than a week ago, I tested positive for covid. I've finished both my five days of isolation and five days wearing a mask out and about. This week, I get to go back to the office to work. Today is the first day I've had a normal amount of energy.

I don't know if I had classic symptoms of covid or not, but I woke up coughing one night. I was feeling a little tired the days before, but I figured I was short on sleep and had a few glasses of wine with dinner. I even googled "covid versus hangover." The third day was unambiguous: I felt like shit. I could still smell and taste food, but I had a runny nose and I was really tired. I went to an urgent care clinic and I got the anti-viral medication, which was wonderful. After I started taking the Paxlovid, I felt so much better. I was sleeping a lot, but other than that, I felt okay. The weird thing about being isolated while having covid was I wasn't doing anything, so I couldn't gauge my energy level.

Day 8, I started to lose my mind. I hadn't seen anyone other than strangers I'd run into on the street. Pedro came over for dinner on Thursday. He was the first human I had regular contact with in person in more than a week. It was so nice. He did all of the talking because I didn't have much to contribute because I haven't done anything other than watch "My Crazy Ex-Girlfriend," "The Adam Project" starring Ryan Reynolds and "Operation Mincemeat" starring Colin Firth on Netflix and read "Trust" by Hernan Diaz. 

This weekend, I was still technically on the bench according to the CDC, even though according to Jack, my likelihood of being contagious was extremely low. Nevertheless, I live in Seattle and people fret a lot about covid here. I know people who have long-covid as well, one in their twenties. 

I was listening to a friend's covid experience. She got tired of reading books and watching movies. I started to think, "What can I do? What are all of my options? Surely there is more to do than stream television shows and read."

This spring has been miserable, rainy and cold. I've delayed working on planters on my balcony and patio. I decided to the garden store, get some new geraniums and fertilizer, and work on the garden. The garden store is outside, and I could easily socially distance. I wore a mask the whole time I was shopping, which was weird because I was one of the few. People must have thought I was a germaphobe, or at least I hope they did. I am not sure how many thought I was bouncing back from having the virus myself. 

I got my plants yesterday, and today I weeded and added compost to my containers. I am probably the only person in downtown Seattle who composts leaves and other plant debris. It was a perfect and lovely solo activity while I was on the upswing. I feel like I have my energy back.

The best thing about having covid is I am done with it. I feel free, like I can fully carry on with my life without worry and stress. I was getting back to lots of normal things, like traveling, going back to work and eating in restaurants, but there was always a little cloud of fear hanging over me. 

That little cloud is gone, and it feels so nice.

Teen Depression and Suicidality & Mother's Day

American emergency rooms are overrun with teenagers suffering from depression and anxiety. There aren't enough psych beds for all of these kids. And these are the ones who make it to the hospital. Thousands more are struggling at home and at school.

Having had a kid in treatment for two years, I have a few thoughts on how we can deal with this epidemic, based on my own experience.

Caveat: This advice has no blame or shame. Instead, we need to honestly look at what is happening in our families before we can address root issues.

First: Mother's Day. My son took my to lunch and said, "Mom, I was neglected in middle school." I was running for School Board at the time and Jack was working days and nights and weekends. "You gave Claire-Adele and I money for dinner, and that was bullshit. I was in sixth and seventh grade and had to eat dinner on my own three nights a week." I told Claire-Adele this story and she agreed. "And when you were around, all you asked Pedro was if he did his french homework."

I'll admit it -- this was not good parenting. My kids were not seen or heard for a few years. I did the best that I could at the time, but my best was mediocre.

Fast forward a few years to Pedro's full-blown anxiety and depression in high school. When Pedro went to Wilderness therapy, the counselors told the parents to get into their own therapy. Why? Your kid didn't end up here on their own. You child is part of a family system, and something broke in that system. The child is the identified patient. The family has an illness, but the kid is the one with the symptoms. In order for the kid to get better, the family has to get better.

Many kids survive and even thrive in a sick family. They are the lucky ones, but the illness may catch up with them at some point.

Experience #1: Parents -- deal with your own shit, whatever it is.

Are you in a shitty marriage? Either fix it or get out. Drink or have another type addiction? Seek recovery. Haunted by the ghosts of your family? Who isn't. Get to therapy and learn to love yourself.

In all of the family therapy and recovery groups I have been in for the past few years, this was by far the  best advice I ever got:

Experience #2: Don't split the ambivalence.

I was talking to Claire-Adele and she asked what this meant. It means let you kids struggle with their own decisions: good, bad and ugly. Let say an eighteen year old wants to do drugs. They are technically an adult and can make that decision. Most parents don't want to see their kids excessively drink or do drugs, especially if they previously had addiction issues.

Don't take the struggle of those decisions away. It is their life, they need to own their own decisions. At heart, this is really about letting go of control as a parent. "Don't split the ambivalence" means don't pick a side in your child's struggle. If they are struggling if they want to do drugs or not, and you come down and scream and cry "Don't do drugs! You'll break my heart!" you have removed the ambivalence.  

Of course, you can set consequences if they do drugs, like "If you come home high, no car for a month." Mean it, and take the car away if they get high, but let the decision be theirs.

Experience #3: Screen time breeds isolation, and isolation breeds depression.

Get off your phone and look at the people around you. Parents, this means you, too. Set an example. Go to the gym or for a walk in the park instead of playing games on your phone.

Experience #4: Fuck the french homework.

I am not saying academic success isn't important. It is, but it is falls after being loved and seen and heard. Why do homework if you aren't loved? Homework won't make you loved. Money won't make you loved. Love and faith and courage will invite love into your life. 

Johnny & Amber & Choices

I feel terribly sorry for both Johnny Depp and Amber Heard. They both were in a horrible, toxic and traumatic relationship which is now on public display. I wish them both some sort of spiritual recovery where they can find peace with their past and move forward with new lives minus the drama.

But first, let's discuss drama. Clearly, they both are actors, but you would hope that the drama would have been left on the stage and that their personal lives would be normal. But no. It was a shit show. A literal shit show.

So she did something bad to him. He did something bad back to her. She did something bad back, and then he did something worse. Repeat for years.

Where did things break down?

They each forgot that they had choices.

When someone does something back to you, it is easy to get resentful, angry and want to retaliate. I don't know why humans do this, but we do. We want to strike back with some evil bullshit instead of examining all of the choices before us. This is not to say that what the first person did was good or kind, but the second person had more choices than they probably realized at the time.

Let's say Amber shat on Johnny's side of the bed. Of course, that is horrible and senseless. Let's say he assaulted her with a bottle as a result, which is also horrible and senseless. Did Johnny have more choices than to smack her around? Yes. Did he had to put up with her shit? Not at all. Let's play a brainstorm game of reasonable alternatives someone could do if they were in Johnny's shoes.

• They could go to another room.
• They could ask the other person if they are okay because most adults don't poop in bed unless they have dementia or a medical problem.
• They could pack a bag and stay with a friend or go to a hotel.
• They could walk around the block or go for a drive until things calmed down.
• They could call emergency services or a mental health hotline.
• They could seek therapy.
• They could seek a divorce.
• They could leave the scene and pray and meditate and ask for guidance.
• They could realize that their loved one has a serious problem, and yelling and screaming isn't going to fix it.

Lots of choices. Lots and lots of choices that aren't assault or involve poop. I have had numerous friends who have been in domestic violence situations, and it isn't easy to see choices when traumatized. It is easy to just want to fight back, but this never brings peace or serenity. It just brings more chaos.

It is easy to look at Johnny and Amber and think they are crazy, yet I look back at my life and see places where I felt trapped and as if I had no choices. Some of the choices might have been hard, but they were still choices.

I had a public meltdown in France a few years ago. I was on vacation with my family and they were going to climb the steps up the Eiffel Tower. Jack didn't want to wait in line for an hour for the elevator. I was recovering from knee surgery and I didn't want to climb the steps, so I waited outside at the bottom. As I was waiting, I got really pissed. I got super angry for getting left behind. I was too busy being angry that I didn't see I had other choices.

• I could have waited in line for the elevator while they climbed the Eiffel Tower.
• I could have gone to a cafe.
• I could have climbed up half of the steps, and turned around when I got tired.
• I could have taken a cab back to the hotel.

At the time, I didn't see my other choices or options. I was too busy being angry or scared or hurt to see clearly. Now, though, I have perspective. I have learned to look for options, and pick the best one.