SENATORS say they fear the N.R.A. and the gun lobby. But I think that fear must be nothing compared to the fear the first graders in Sandy Hook Elementary School felt as their lives ended in a hail of bullets. The fear that those children who survived the massacre must feel every time they remember their teachers stacking them into closets and bathrooms, whispering that they loved them, so that love would be the last thing the students heard if the gunman found them.
On Wednesday, a minority of senators gave into fear and blocked common-sense legislation that would have made it harder for criminals and people with dangerous mental illnesses to get hold of deadly firearms — a bill that could prevent future tragedies like those in Newtown, Conn., Aurora, Colo., Blacksburg, Va., and too many communities to count.
Some of the senators who voted against the background-check amendments have met with grieving parents whose children were murdered at Sandy Hook, in Newtown. Some of the senators who voted no have also looked into my eyes as I talked about my experience being shot in the head at point-blank range in suburban Tucson two years ago, and expressed sympathy for the 18 other people shot besides me, 6 of whom died. These senators have heard from their constituents — who polls show overwhelmingly favored expanding background checks. And still these senators decided to do nothing. Shame on them.
I watch TV and read the papers like everyone else. We know what we’re going to hear: vague platitudes like “tough vote” and “complicated issue.” I was elected six times to represent southern Arizona, in the State Legislature and then in Congress. I know what a complicated issue is; I know what it feels like to take a tough vote. This was neither. These senators made their decision based on political fear and on cold calculations about the money of special interests like the National Rifle Association, which in the last election cycle spent around $25 million on contributions, lobbying and outside spending.
Speaking is physically difficult for me. But my feelings are clear: I’m furious. I will not rest until we have righted the wrong these senators have done, and until we have changed our laws so we can look parents in the face and say: We are trying to keep your children safe. We cannot allow the status quo — desperately protected by the gun lobby so that they can make more money by spreading fear and misinformation — to go on.
I am asking every reasonable American to help me tell the truth about the cowardice these senators demonstrated. I am asking for mothers to stop these lawmakers at the grocery store and tell them: You’ve lost my vote. I am asking activists to unsubscribe from these senators’ e-mail lists and to stop giving them money. I’m asking citizens to go to their offices and say: You’ve disappointed me, and there will be consequences.
People have told me that I’m courageous, but I have seen greater courage. Gabe Zimmerman, my friend and staff member in whose honor we dedicated a room in the United States Capitol this week, saw me shot in the head and saw the shooter turn his gunfire on others. Gabe ran toward me as I lay bleeding. Toward gunfire. And then the gunman shot him, and then Gabe died. His body lay on the pavement in front of the Safeway for hours.
I have thought a lot about why Gabe ran toward me when he could have run away. Service was part of his life, but it was also his job. The senators who voted against background checks for online and gun-show sales, and those who voted against checks to screen out would-be gun buyers with mental illness, failed to do their job.
They looked at these most benign and practical of solutions, offered by moderates from each party, and then they looked over their shoulder at the powerful, shadowy gun lobby — and brought shame on themselves and our government itself by choosing to do nothing.
They will try to hide their decision behind grand talk, behind willfully false accounts of what the bill might have done — trust me, I know how politicians talk when they want to distract you — but their decision was based on a misplaced sense of self-interest. I say misplaced, because to preserve their dignity and their legacy, they should have heeded the voices of their constituents. They should have honored the legacy of the thousands of victims of gun violence and their families, who have begged for action, not because it would bring their loved ones back, but so that others might be spared their agony.
This defeat is only the latest chapter of what I’ve always known would be a long, hard haul. Our democracy’s history is littered with names we neither remember nor celebrate — people who stood in the way of progress while protecting the powerful. On Wednesday, a number of senators voted to join that list.
Mark my words: if we cannot make our communities safer with the Congress we have now, we will use every means available to make sure we have a different Congress, one that puts communities’ interests ahead of the gun lobby’s. To do nothing while others are in danger is not the American way.
By Jennifer Mann, on Thu Apr 18, 2013 at 10:00 AM ET
Only a few months have passed since I left office as a state representative—a position I held for fourteen years. I entered the Pennsylvania House of Representatives an entrepreneur, having started my first business at the age of 25, and gained a reputation during my tenure as a business-friendly legislator. During the last few years of serving my district, an inner voice increasingly grew louder, calling me back to the private sector and to new challenges.
Without missing a beat, I launched a consulting firm immediately after leaving office. I never really gave myself an opportunity to enjoy a transition period in which I could reflect upon the past 14 years with the exception of a brief moment of an awkward feeling in not seeing my name on the ballot. And so, for the most part, my transition happened. No fanfare and no deep thoughts of reflection,
My new reality began to hit home immediately upon showing up to work—alone. Although I never took for granted the dedicated staffers who worked for me, and I did realize just how dependent I was on them, I just didn’t know how hard it would be to maintain the level of activity without them, until I was out on my own. Most of all, I miss their presence. The past presidential election brought some pretty bad jokes about empty chairs, but now when I walk into my office, it’s me, myself, and I, and…that empty chair in the corner. I miss the smiles and the chatter and the interoffice banter (It still happens some today, but by email and it’s not the same).
Fortunately, my new business involves a lot of face time with clients, prospective clients and those my clients would like to do business with. I am by the nature of my work in the company of others daily. But now, I am solely responsible for the scheduling of meetings, for the execution for each item on the to-do lists I bring out of meetings, and for the meticulous follow up I am known for. No more delegation. As a state representative, 90 percent of my to-do list would be carried out by my reliable team. Now, it’s me, myself and I…and that empty chair.
But I still enjoy a touch of public life in some regards. I remain active with local charities, nonprofits, and serve on boards making speeches, shaking hands, and conversing with colleagues about political hot topics. Though I enjoy remaining connected in that way, I have to consciously draw the line and remind myself where to stop.
For example, the Washington Bureau writer of my city newspaper recently asked me to share my thoughts about a poll concerning next year’s gubernatorial election. Instinctively, I began to formulate a response. But then after thinking the matter through for a few moments, I decided to decline. Although I felt honored that a reporter approached me for a quote even though he was aware I left office, the torch has been passed and it is time to let others weigh in.
That is not to say I will no longer make comment concerning issues involving state government. As a state representative, I sponsored legislation to protect children against sexual predators and widen law enforcement’s net in capturing those who harm them. Protecting our children from predators is an issue dear to my heart and I will gladly lend my voice to protecting those young ones.
Life changed substantially since I left office. I do not regret my decision to return to the private sector and I remain excited by the prospects ahead. The transition I never took is moving full speed ahead on its own, as it will for any of us who have served our constituents over time. I look forward to sharing with you in the months ahead my reflections of that journey.
The journey to the center of our bodies. What on earth is the core?
“Today class, our experiment is to stay in the gym for 12 hours and ask every person what their goals are.” A landslide will mention “core” “abs” “stomach.” It is our obsession. Another experiment is to watch any informercial, pushing an obscure fitness product, and see how many times they mention “core” or “abs.” I’ll be willing to bet its more times than they mention anything nutrition related. I mean why eat well when you can do crunches, situps and use the shake weight and get ripped. That is until you realize you have to do 250,000 crunches, JUST to burn enough calories to lose one pound of fat…YES just one pound. You can do crunches until you are blue in the face but it won’t eliminate your stomach fat. And on a side note, whatever new product is out there, it won’t speed the results up any faster. So why do we do crunches? Well duh, its to get an 8 pack!
Abs are made in the kitchen, no matter how hard you work your “abs” you cannot outwork your diet. If your nutrition is not up to par, your stomach will not be either. “So what is the core?” “Why do we have to work it?” “How do we work it?” I answer all of the above!
Lets start with what the “core” actually is. The National Academy of Sports Medicine defines it as the Cervical, Thoracic and Lumbar spines and also the Lumbo-Pelvic-Hip complex (stabilizes the body during weight bearing functional movements producing and reducing forces). WHAT? Time for an anatomy lession! PS do not fall asleep, it gets better.
Anterior
Rectus abdominus- The “abs.” A key postural muscle that flexes the lumbar spine and can aid in respiration
Posterior
Erector spinae- lower back muscles that extend the vertebral column
Multifidus- deep musculature that runs from the base of the cervical spine to the sacrum. Main job is the stabilize vertebrae in the vertebral column during movement
Lateral
Internal Oblique-Compresses abdomen; unilateral contraction rotates vertebral column to same side
Have you ever felt the weight of the world beating down on you? That moment when your struggles are omnipresent and you brace for the impact of impending doom? That you gasp for air, reaching desperately for a glass of water that’s half empty instead of half full?
We’ve all at one time or another had an encounter with Murphy’s Law. If it can go wrong, it will and it will happen thrice as bad as we can ever prepare for. This is my story of trials and tribulations – and the reason why I truly believe the worlds ills can sometimes be solved with a jar of Jiff and a few “likes”:
Why I Wear Combat Boots
January 2012: I was working as an Account Executive for a media company in my debut as a grown up, lugging around a 400-pound briefcase in a pencil skirt and high heels – truly believing that hard work was important, but image was everything. Much to my dismay, those pretty little patent-leather platform-pumps caused the tragic and premature demise of my beloved Camry. To be fair, I had put her through a lot. She lovingly persevered through countless hit-and-runs, a few tows, and the irresponsible behavior that defined college. She and her seatbelt also saved my life that night as I flipped across the highway, landing right side up without a scratch. I threw those heels away the next day.
Why Loving Your Career Shouldn’t Feel Like A Job
February 2012: There comes a moment in time in one’s life where you realize you have become a hamster spinning on a wheel. I was tired of being tired, giving my all and feeling constant defeat. I like to believe we all possess a sense of intuition, some stronger than others. My gut was screaming at me to make a change – and not my diet – my life. I was so busy that I paid no attention to what sounded like scratching noises coming from my cabinets. That, and the fact that my dog’s food was magically disappearing even though he was gone for a week…
Why Family Comes First
March 6th, 2012: I had become such a drone that it had been months since I made a trip in to see my family – something I have always done regularly and often. I was so self absorbed that I barely noticed my Grandfather reaching for the gas tank lever instead of the door handle. I immediately dismissed it; afraid of causing unnecessary stress and anxiety in our family and myself.
Read the rest of… Christie Mitchell: Adversity: How I Overcame Life’s Struggles With Social Media and Peanut Butter
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Apr 17, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
What would you think if you were at a dinner party and discovered you were seated next to this woman?
I would get very nervous and try furtively to move the name cards so I could sit next to someone who looked more like Richard Branson–who would allow me to enjoy whatever is being served for dinner and be able to digest it without sweating bullets about which fork I am using and trying to think of the name “Endive” to describe my salad.
Manners are very important. No doubt about it. It’s the oil that lets us navigate human relations smoothly.
But as I tried to explain to my daughter this past weekend in one of my non sequitur fatherly talk tangents, “If you have to chose which type of person to be—it’s more desirable to be a pleasant and approachable person at a party rather than be the person who merely knows how to send out the perfect party invitation.” Or something like that.
In other words, I wouldn’t mind reading Ms Manner’s book. But wouldn’t want to have to sit and discuss it with her. It just seems like she is always looking for a comma splice in ever conversation. And to point out that something from lunch is still on the corner of your mouth. I would probably tell her (politely) she had bad breath and “something on her nose” (even though she didn’t), just to help me level the playing field with her and relax enough to get through learning, again, which fork goes where. So I can, again, feel like a “manners failure” when I inevitably forget the rules again.
Whoever invented forks should have made a rule we only need one kind. A simple single all-purpose fork. That would have made eating a lot less stressful. And one less thing to feel ashamed about not ever being able to remember.
Manners violation confession. While out of town last week and eating at Asian restaurant, I picked up the dipping sauce for the steamed dumplings and drank the last few drops. I made sure no one was looking and took the chance.
It was worth the risk!! Even if I had a little on the corner of my mouth 30 minutes later.
My last column claimed that balance is possible in the face of chaos. I promised that we are all capable of maintaining inner peace no matter the environmental stressors—that work, play, challenge and rest are healthy integrative aspects of our lives. About the complaint of not feeling vacation-peace and bliss at home, I suggested that intention is everything.
Wehhhhhhhhl, I wrote that column from the window seat of my charming straw-roof cabana in the Yukatan Peninsula just steps from the ocean as a warm breeze kissed my hair. A little voice in my consciousness said, “Writing about stress management from an emotional and geographic location that represent the opposite of stress might not be believable.” Yes, mi pequeno internal voice doesn’t use commas, but it is very wise. And it is true that faith is much easier to write about when times are good.
So today I revisit my claim from the living center of chaos. I have been home for exactly 10 days, and I have weathered exactly 6 mini crisis since my return. 6! This might be a record.
How am I managing, solving, dealing, integrating, going with the flowing now, you ask?
I am leaning on ALL of my rebalancing support strategies. It’s a lot like the saying, “Don’t wait for the fire before buying the hose.” Turns out my impressive hose collection really is useful. And because of it, I think I’m managing with more grace than I used to—it’s clear I’m not going it alone.
One significant resource I relied on this week was prayer. I sat down in a beautiful location near my house where I could feel the vibrancy of nature all around me, and I asked God for help, a lot of it. I remember specifically not knowing what the help would look like for this and that issue, and especially for my daughter Abby, struggling with a problem so deeply that she’d lost her appetite for days, but I asked for the ability to recognize the help when it showed up.
Two days later when she finally felt hungry, Abby had me google the new Dominos in our Andover neighborhood. I dialed and we huddled together over the speaker-phone conveying our dreams of extra toppings. But when it came time for the phone number, pizza boy could not make sense of my cell number. Again and again we repeated it as he typed away on his Dominos Pizza computer, but politely he kept apologizing that there were too many digits.
After several minutes of this, puzzled and losing patience, we told him we’d call back. Was this some sort of joke? As I clicked “end” on my I-phone, the phone number I had dialed popped up on my screen before shutting off: +44 1264 363333.
Yes, it was a very good joke! I had accidentally tried to order a pizza from Dominos in Andover, in the United Kingdom!
We looked at each other and then at the phone, and then at each other. The swirling confusion around us dissolved into laughter, “Haahaah, the most expensive pizza on the planet, haha haha haha!”
Laughing harder, “After this phone call, we can’t afford pizza, hah hah hah hah hah!”
Stomach hurting and tears streaming, “I hope we’re still hungry next week when it gets here! Hahahahahahaha haahaahaa haaahaaahaahahahahahahahahaha!
We laughed at ourselves for about 10 minutes and then for 20 more as we called our family members to share what we had stupidly, hilariously tried to do.
Finally, with ribs and face hurting we slowed down, exhausted. Abby looked at me calmly and with a new light in her eyes, she said, “I feel so much better.”
Miraculously, what changed for my girl most in those minutes was her own sense of perspective. While the details of her week of struggle remained, suddenly her world felt much bigger than the confine of her problem—what better way to have the point illustrated than to order a pizza from overseas?
But what’s more, when 16 year-old Abby saw that her problem wasn’t her entire life, just merely a part of it, I knew that my prayer had been answered. God comes through every time, and has a most excellent sense of humor, because we want to laugh.
Read the rest of… Lisa Miller: God & Pizza are the Best Medicine
By Lauren Mayer, on Tue Apr 16, 2013 at 3:00 PM ET
Parents of teenagers are used to over-reactions – if someone doesn’t laugh at their Facebook post, they’re despondent, or a bad hair day leads to “I’m too hideous to go to school today,” or my personal favorite, teens who stare at a completely full refrigerator and moan, “There’s nothing to eat!” This could be a valuable skill in politics – in fact, I used to hypothesize that moms of toddlers could solve even the toughest diplomatic crises (“Israel and Palestinian settlers, if you can’t agree on how to play nicely with the occupied territories, I’ll put you both in time out!”) But these days, I think the additional skills gained by dealing with teenagers could help even more.
Because our political system has become so virulently partisan, even the slightest policy proposal creates shock and horror – both sides are guilty of over-reaction on occasion, but lately the most flagrant example is this week’s Senate vote on background checks for guns. From the way the NRA and many politicians are reacting, you’d think Senators Manchin & Toomey had proposed banning assault rifles, pistols, shotguns, and any ammunition and were considering banning bows & arrows and fishing poles. Strengthening existing background checks and closing a couple of loopholes is a really mild step, and from all the times Wayne LaPierre has ranted about ‘bad guys with guns,’ it’s hard to understand why he is so opposed to making it slightly harder for a bad guy to get a gun. The whole thing smacks of teenage over-reaction – “Today, background checks, tomorrow, they’ll have to pry my gun out of my cold dead body” is logically identical to “if Jason asks Kendra to prom instead of me, I’ll never have a social life and I’ll die alone.”
We already regulate weapons – no one is screaming about the slippery slope caused by the fact that you can’t own a nuclear missile just in case the coyotes out back get feisty. And we already regulate a TON of products and services that haven’t sent us on a never-ending decline into fascism – so far the government isn’t coming after our cars just because they’re registered, and while food vendors do need licenses and health inspections, it hasn’t led to goose-stepping officers shutting down little Susie’s lemonade stand. So get a grip, gun lobby – and to help you stop acting like hysterical teen girls who couldn’t get Justin Bieber tickets, here’s a musical reminder of all the things that have survived being regulated . . .
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Apr 16, 2013 at 12:00 PM ET
Mr. Manners (My first advice column).
I think we need a Mr. Manners.
Miss Manners, in my opinion, talks too much and interrupts people in her mind before they can interject something. She doesn’t actually interrupt them, of course. But you can tell she wants to.
Which to me is disrespectful. Especially when you are already being lectured by someone about manners.
In fact, I think lecturing people about manners is rude. But that’s a different subject altogether.
Which leads to today’s question.
“Is it possible to be too polite sometimes?”
Yes! It is. A good example of this is Jimi Hendrix and the song “Purple Haze.” Jimi, of course, was a very well-behaved young man who liked to play the guitar and even wrote some songs. In one song, Purple Haze, he opts for the more informal “Excuse me, while I kiss the sky” over the more formal “Pardon me, while I kiss the sky.”
Had Jimi gone with the latter approach (which was preferred at the time in Great Britain), it would have been a musical disaster.
So never use more formal etiquette when it would cause a musical disaster.
Jimi Hendrix was respectful without seeming disingenuously polite –and was still musically appropriate.
I think that’s the key.
That’s the end of today’s Mr. Manner’s column. Which may not make much sense but compared to Miss Manners, rocks.
And “rocks” is preferable to the more for formal “is preferable.”
