Shots Shots ShotsShotsShotsShots (Everybody!)

I heard someone die on Sunday. My mom and I were in the living room of her condo on the south side watching The Artist (which I had never seen and enjoyed, A-) when we heard gunshots.

"Hmm." I said.

"Fireworks?" She asked. We kept watching the black and white actors.Then sirens a bit later. Out the window eight cop cars. We peered out but nothing was happening presently.

Anyway, in the morning the front desk guy explained it was the head of one group and his brother. They were both shot by someone yet to be caught. We say "group" here because no one likes to live in gangland (although if you live in Chicago, you do).

I had done sprints at the exact spot of killing that morning and did them again Monday. And yesterday. People power walk and bike on by. There's clover and Alice Sr and I even jumped in Lake Michigan. From the still glassy water I could see the white brick where it went down.

I don't feel particularly unsafe as a non-member of any groups. But the couple blocks from the bus to the door at midnight I don't prefer. There's just a bed of fear we all have to lie in. And that makes me really mad, actually.

No guns. No guns. No guns please. I cannot die from a stray knife wound. But bullets fly. And having my own would not save me.

Maybe guns will always exist, but come on, make them harder to buy. Scarier to own. More expensive. Tax the heck out of them. We don't need them. And generation by generation we can sort some of these issues out. Slavery was really important to us at one point, but when it was time for that to end, if was time for that to end. Don't be the jerk who was like, "We've already built our whole culture around having slaves! Whoopsy can't change it now!"

Insomnia in South Carolina

I have it. So far, so vacay good. We have a balcony room! View:

We went to a plantation yesterday. I fell in love with these creatures called "guinea hens"--chubby little squawky things.

Also saw SEVEN gators sunning themselves! So much fun to be had on the plantation! Meanwhile! A few generations ago, slavery!

Thoughts on Lincoln

-Coulda been better.
-Joseph Gordon-Levitt was pushing it.
-Tommy Lee Jones was hilar, hilar.
-The film argues that the ends justify the means when it comes to politics and corruption. I still think I disagree despite this very famous example.
-The beginning was too slow, and the first scene was superfluous.
-DDL had the right soul.
-Best part was "Battle Cry of Freedom," which I know all the words to and is now stuck in my head thanks to my 4th grade choir class and our Civil War unit.
-I'm glad I do not live in a country with war on her land. I wish I lived in a country that was not part of any wars, but I also concede war is complicated.
-Robert California! What you doin' with a handlebar 'stache in the 1800s?! Go back to Dunder Mifflin!
-I would hate to have a boss who stopped everything and told cute little stories.
-I am surprised more women in that time period didn't go crazy considering their societal placement.
-Ate a lot of Chex Mix. Hashtag YOLO.
-Wonder who made the final call on how to deal with assassination.
-There is a ticking, and urgency, to everything we feel we must do, but we have to learn to sort when that urgency is just panic and when it is carved-out and necessary.

Stop Sex Trafficking

My current laptop backdrop. Summer 2010.

This weekend, I attended a public affairs conference about sex trafficking. Obvi, kind of a downer topic--but hugely important to address. I heard a lot of very unfortunate facts about little girls in other countries.

Out of all the scary (and real) stories involving razorblades and kidlets and burning cigarettes and drug addiction, the saddest thing was this:

Sometimes girls who live in brothels are sent back home to talk about the fun new job they have been away doing for the past few years. Since the girl is trusted in her own town, parents send their daughters away with her, and a new generation of slaves are trapped. Even sadder--sometimes, the original girls realize they are giving too much money to the middle man and simply open their own brothels and exploit girls like they themselves were once exploited.

I am the saddest for the girl who holds onto these scars and finds it fair, fine, advantageous to so blatantly disregard the golden rule.

Instead of getting mad, I will write this and do my best to live it:

1. Just because it has been done to you doesn't mean it is fair for you to do it to others.
2. Just stop. Just STOP being part of the problem!

Tonight, I'm down on my knees.
Tonight, I'm beggin' you please.
Tonight, tonight it bleeds.
Oh why can't I be makin' Love come true?