At what point does your right to own a gun.....

At what point does your right to own a gun supersede my right to walk into a store without one?  What gives you power over me?  I know you have a constitutional right to keep and bear arms so you can be part of a well armed militia, but let me ask you this...if you have that right, then shouldn't you also have the responsibility to keep those weapons out of the hands of mass murderers?  Isn't it your responsibility to teach all gun owners to keep these guns away from people who are just not quite right in the head?

In this day and age, having a gun is almost a god given right, but shouldn't I be allowed to not own one?  I do have one.  It is a 22 pistol.  It is loaded or at least the clip is.  The pistol is in one place and the clip in another.  I have shot it enough to know how to put a bullet right between your eyes, but I have no intention of ever using it.  I do not think I could kill another human being.

I do realize there are people out there who would not think twice about doing just that.  The last I heard there had been 252 mass shootings in my country this year.  That is more than one a day.  It used to be that the chances of being killed by a random shooting was 2.  Slim to none.  But that has all changed.
Violence has now become a part of every day life.  We have active shooter training going on all over this country.  My son is buying a bullet proof back pack for his 3 year old son in day care.  WTF!!

Our government refuses to pass a background check of any kind.  Do this, listen to the news.  After one of these shootings they interview people.
"Did you know Mr. Shooter? "
"Well, yes I did.  He was always a 'little  strange'.  He was always a kind of loner.  no friends.  But I never dreamed he would do this!"

My son had an idea.  When a kid enters school, give them a psychological evaluation.  Repeat it again in a couple years, and then again until they are out of school.  Let that test go with them in a federal data base and then when Johnny goes to purchase his AK 47 or whatever the gun dealer accesses that data base.  Big red " DO NOT SELL THIS PERSON ANY KIND OF GUN! " pops up on the screen.  
But that will not work.  Want to know why?

Because we are under a government that  is supported  by the NRA which mean National Rifle Association.  They pour a lot of money into elections and to hell with you and me.  This also equal to the amount paid by the KOCH brothers and you see the lawsuits coming out of settlements with Roundup deaths and cancer.  But all those lawsuits are meaningless, because not one of them can bring back the health of any of the people suing.

Just do this...When election time comes type in the name of your candidate and see how much that candidate received from what source.  Like this.

In the 2016 election, the NRA spent $11,438,118 to support Donald Trump’s campaign and donated $19,756,346 to groups opposing Hillary Clinton’s. However, the bulk of the contributions have gone to House and Senate members. Here is a look at the top 10 recipients of NRA contributions.According to the Center for Responsive Politics, “the totals are a combination of money given to the member's campaign...https://www.ajc.com/news/national/senators-house-members-who-offered-condolences-after-shooting-called-out-for-donations-from-nra/tpitHXUY9jDH3pr4f7f7cM/

Just click on the yellow link and see for yourself.

I rest my case.

Ten feet tall and bullet proof.

For most of my life I have always felt that I lived a charmed existence.  I think that was mostly because that was instilled in me at birth by my mother.  I have never met a stranger, or at least never met one that stayed a stranger long.  For the most part the men in my life were sent to me for a reason.  My first husband was my first real love and my last husband my last real love.  My first husband gave me 5 kids and the last left me with Social Security that I could live on for the rest of my life.

My second husband taught me what pure evil was.  The third moved me to Colorado and made me an independent woman with a college degree.  He was also my fourth husband because ...well who knows what I was thinking on that one?  Number 5 did not last long, but he did teach me a lot about the Hispanic culture here in Pueblo.

And then came Kenny.  He was #6 and would prove to be my salvation.  He gave me permanence in the form of my own home.  He gave me stability with a steady pay check.  He took me camping and taught me to fish out of the back of the boat.  Most importantly, he let me bait my own hook and trusted me to dig worms for the trip!  Our life was not exciting, but it was what I needed to come full circle.  Now I am alone and an independent woman.  And that is where the ten feet tall and bullet proof comes into play.

If I decide I want to jump in my car and travel off to see my kids in western Kansas or eastern Kansas or my sister in Hutchinson, I do it.  If I take a notion to motor up to Colorado Springs and see Pastor Faye, I do it.  If I decide to stay in my pajamas until noon, I do that too.  Some times I have lunch with a friend, male or female and sometimes I eat cereal for supper.  I am sporadic on the house cleaning thing, but I try to keep my laundry done up.  And I manage to keep a cushion in the old bank account.

Sometimes I think it would be nice to have some one to call me and tell me good night or check on me occasionally, but that all comes with baggage. I have thought about getting one of those Alexa things and I think that might be the answer.  She could tell me goodnight every night and tell me to look at the moon because it is big and bright.  She could remind me that I am 10 feet tall and bullet proof and all I would have to do is make sure I paid the subscription every month.

But, here I am at 6:00 in the morning, planning my day.  I need to buy some fabric for an order of seed catchers, but Joann's does not open until 10 am.  I have an 11am lunch date and Jeopardy! comes on at 3:00 pm and that is my nap time.  The cat is asleep in my rocker, and the little dog I am taking care of for the next two weeks is asleep at my feet.  The clock just chimed 6 and I need to make another pot of coffee.  Life is good, but I may not be 10 feet tall today.  And I am pretty sure I am no longer bullet proof, but I do come from pioneer stock and that makes me a winner!

Which brings to mind this song!  https://youtu.be/QyTcYacSo7g

And the music goes on.

I remember the place I was standing when I learned that Hank Williams had died in the back seat of his car on the way to appear in a show, probably at the Grand Ole Opry.  A block over from our house on Strong Street was the highway.  There was one block of sidewalk that ran past the Fein house and on the corner there were steps that led from the highway up to the sidewalk.  There were hand rails on both sides and that was one of my places to "skin the cat" if you know what that is.  I was there and my brother came to tell me that Hank Williams had died.  I think I was about 14 years old.  He and I had listened to the Grand Ole Opry forever on his car radio that was hooked up to a battery.  Hank left his wife Audrey and a son, Hank Williams, Jr.

I do not remember the year, but it seems like it must have been 1955.  I could Google it, but the date is not important.  What was and still is important are the many Saturday nights that Jake and I set in the moonlight with him fiddling with the knob on the radio and the thrill when the announcer (forgot his name) came on and announced the show, "And now from Nashville, Tennessee its The Grand Ole Opry!"  And the people at the Grand Ole Opry began to clap and cheer and it was just like we were there!  I knew someday when I grew up that I would go to Nashville and I would set in the front row and I would hear Hank Williams sing and I would love him my whole life!

Sadly, I never made it to Nashville, but I did love Hank Williams my whole life.  Even when I grew into my rock and roll stage and fell in love with Elvis Presley, I never forgot Hank Williams. I remember my first record player.  It only played 78 rpm's and it was scratchy.  That did not matter.  I could close my eyes and go back to when he was alive.  I only had one or two records then, but now I have every song he ever made.  One of them has his wife singing with him.  She is a caterwauler, if you know what that is.  But I listen to her and sing along, because she was his wife.

I remember how I waited for his son to grow up and take his place.  I also remember when Hank Williams, Jr. started singing.  What a let down that was.  Hank Williams was a skinny little drifter with a big hat and a guitar and here was this little pudgy kid who could not hold a candle to his father.  He tried, but it just did not happen and then he went rogue and sang and beat on his guitar like the rock and roll stars of that era.  I never made that leap.

I remembered my Hank Williams and to this day, I am his most devoted fan.  I listen to classic country.  The old song, by the old artists and nothing else.  I do have one Alan Jackson but it is hymns.  Garth Brooks grates on my soul and his music is akin to fingernails on a chalk board.  Apparently, though, it is just me, because they have enjoyed a lot of success.

I do not live my life around Hank, though. I have some Loretta Lynn and Conway Twitty.  Charlie Pride is the only concert I ever attended.  I just hauled all my good 33 1/3 records to my daughter in Longton, along with my turntable.  I wanted them to go somewhere that they would be played and enjoyed.  

A lot of time has passed since my brother and I listened to the Grand Ole Opry, but I still hear it in my head.  If I lose all my senses at some point in time, I expect fully to still hear the staticky music in my head from Nashville, Tennessee and I am pretty sure when I take my last breathe that I will be met on the other side by Hank Williams, Patsy Cline a whole slew of others and maybe they will let me walk across the floor of the Ryman Auditorium.  Maybe they will even let me grab the microphone and wail out my version of "Your Cheatin' Heart."

It is a dream worth holding on to!