An Open Letter to My Home: Dear America…
Posted on December 2, 2015
“My dream is of a place and a time where America will once again be seen as the last best hope of earth.” – Abraham Lincoln
Shit… Here we go again.
Warren just got done playing. I’ve been on a kick lately. But, “My Shit’s Fucked Up” was just on and it made me think of you.
14 dead and 14 wounded. What’s the total now for the year, old pal? 10,572… That’s getting a bit much. But, the whole ordeal is getting to be a bit of an old-shoe. And the sole is completely worn off and the laces broken. Do you know what time Obama is coming on? Has he done so already? Do you think they have it all pre-recorded at this point? … That they’ve gone ahead and just had him repeat a shit-ton of city names and varying number of dead over and over and over again? …. And when a shooting happens, they just pop in Tape #2189-B and go out for Chinese?
Yeah, OK, chum. That sounds pretty far-fetched. But what also sounds pretty far-fetched is that number of 10,572 killed in 2015 is more than double than the number of Americans killed in the entirety of the Iraq War. We’ve streamlined Death by Gun within our own boarders… and Business is booming.
But, that’s not really something you want to brag about, is it? I wouldn’t. I couldn’t look my dear mother in the face if I knew I was allowing such a slaughter to go on. Well, America, I know it really isn’t your fault per se… There’s a Constitution and all. But…. We’ve had a pretty long tradition of Gun Rights and we’ve had some good times with guns shooting cans and cardboard boxes out on the farm. But, we’ve also had some good times with beer and likker…. Even then we got to the point where we had to admit that maybe, just maybe we were having a bit too much of a good time… crashing in at 6am and heading to work at 8am with vomit still fresh on your pant leg starts to lose its shine after the first couple of times… and pretty soon people are telling you to get your act together, young man. You’re an adult now! Time for fun and games are over.
I’m not saying you can’t go out every now-and-again and get blotto. Just rope it in a bit and be responsible about it and stop making excuses. You’re starting to act like that one Drunk Uncle, who we loved as kids and looked up to, but as we got older, we keep saying we forgive you time and time again for all the shit you put us through to the point we’re numb and they are just hollow words.
I still love you…. So get your shit together.
Take care of yourself and love as always,