NRA: National Stifle Association

NRA: National Stifle Association

Disclaimer: This isn’t a parenting post, per se. Unless, like me, you have kids and are scared for their safety. Then it’s definitely a parenting post.

Here’s the thing: The problem isn’t with people who own guns, or even with people who are in the NRA.

It’s with people who think owning a gun is something to brag about. Or, short of that, people who think, after all the carnage of the past day/month/year/decade/century/HISTORY, the NRA is a cool crew to ride with. These are people whom, indirectly or not, the NRA has patiently and purposefully cultivated and manipulated into seeing no distinction between owning a gun and owning EVERY GUN, between owning a gun for hunting and sport and owning a gun for sex appeal and status and a largely mythical idea of “self-defense.” People who see no distinction between gun control and fascism, between finding a solution and taking away freedom.

I don’t care if you own a gun. I docare if you think the NRA is a noble institution and that being a member is worth boasting about.

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Fear By Proxy

Fear By Proxy

When I was a kid, my biggest fear was being kidnapped. I mean, who wouldn’t want this little heartthrob cooling up their house?

jean jacket, yearbook, junior high, parenting, toddlers, cool, 80s, 1980s, mike julianelle

As I grew up and that terrifying two-part episode of Diff’rent Strokes faded from my memory, the whole kidnapping fear evaporated. Other anxieties emerged and receded through the years until I became quite fearless… provided I’d had ten beers and you agreed to no punches to the face or groin.

Then I had a kid. And I became fearmore.

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