Since Monday afternoon I haven't been feeling well. First it was a nightmare stomach/intestinal issue. Then today I woke up and managed to maintain a fairly obtrusive headache. Conferences are tomorrow evening, and I'm exhausted. Tonight is my church book club night, and I love these intelligent women. Plus, the book (The Girl Who Sang to Buffalo) we were discussing tonight was perhaps my favorite of the year! Instead of staying home and grading journals, as I had planned, I decided to go to book club and grade the journals tomorrow while the kids are reading. It's not awesome teaching, but sometimes one needs to stay sane. Anyway, the conversation, as usual, was stimulating, and I want to order the first of this trilogy. Also, we discussed his editorial, which I Googled in the middle of the discussion. I'm a fan of this Kent Nerburn guy. The first thing I did upon arriving home is like him on FB. You should too.
Anyway, you should really read the entire editorial (linked above), but I know everyone is busy and most won't take the time. Here's a snippet...
There are otherwise perfectly normal human beings in northern Minnesota where I lived who can barely feed their families but have 25 rifles, pistols, and semi-automatic weapons in their closets.
Why? You don’t have 25 refrigerators, or 25 pipe wrenches, or 25 anything other than perhaps baseball caps and pairs of shoes, and those things are questionable enough in themselves. So, what is it about a gun? Is it some feeling of power? Is there some crypto-sexual thrill in holding it? Shooting it? Stroking it?
I know I’m being a bit demeaning, but, damn it, I simply can’t understand. And, frankly, I don’t want to. I am sick of hearing arguments for these cruel and lethal objects. They scare me, they disgust me, and it makes me ashamed that such an adolescent and selfish obsession can be one of the few sacrosanct things in our country.

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