PRESIDENTIAL TRUTH

It’s President’s Day, so I thought I’d share one of my favorite pictures of two of my favorite presidents. The humanity radiating from this photo is made all the more poignant by the inhumanity that engulfed the White House in between their terms.

Despite a few notable exceptions, America has been pretty lucky in our presidential picks over our nearly 250-year history. This image reminds me to be grateful for that. In my humble opinion, these are two good-hearted men with integrity who have spent their lives trying to move us “towards a more perfect union.”

Not everybody agrees with me, of course. I’m on social media. I’ve been bombarded by conspiracy theories and seen unthinkably vicious memes skewering these men and their loved ones. A whole cottage industry hums with hate for them. Russia’s disinformation ministry works around the clock to spread trash theories, division, and distrust, then echoed by Tucker Carlson and other radio and TV talkshow hosts who make millions dismantling our democracy, one lie at a time.

The current target is Biden, but all politicians are easy targets. There’s plenty to dislike about politics, and there’s a whole lot to question about the federal government, no matter who is president. But it seems we Americans have forgotten how to use our brains and our hearts. Common sense and compassion are scarce commodities in the public square. We choose sides, stick our fingers in our ears, and yell across the divide. Or we drift into a miasma of denial, apathy, rage, victimhood . . .

None of this is OK. Not in 2024. We need to grow up, and fast.

The Stakes in 2024

It’s a presidential election year, in case you haven’t noticed. Here is your script, no matter your candidate preference: “The stakes could not be higher! We are in dire danger! America is going down!” I’m not going to holler this, though I believe it to be true. Our democracy is at stake. I literally cannot watch footage of the January 6th attack on our Capitol with getting nauseated.

Yet the stakes are even higher than the future of the red, white, & blue. Much higher. It’s our entire blue & green planet that hangs in the balance. Perhaps that sounds like an overstatement to you? OK, I’ll tone it down: “Life as we know it” on this blue & green planet hangs in the balance. Scientists say that more than one million of the earth’s eight million species are at risk of extinction, many within decades.

Is humankind one of them? Could well be. Not within decades, but when it comes to climate disruption, anything can happen, and trends are already way worse than predicted. One thing is certain: there is no justice when it comes to climate change. Those who have polluted and consumed the most will suffer less than those who have had little to do with our plight. Indigenous, black, and brown communities already bear the worst social, economic, and health costs of the climate chaos.

The Bottomline

Personally, this is why I have come out of retirement to work for Third Act, organizing older Americans to protect our democracy and our environment. We can’t save our planet if we don’t have a functioning democracy. If citizens aren’t paying attention and getting engaged and voting, we will lose both.

I know, I know. It’s tempting to sit this one out, to depend on others to get down in the muck and fight it out. I’m sick to death of it all, too. I don’t know anyone who is happy with the choice between two old white guys. But that’s what we have, realistically.

The bottomline is: If trump is elected, America and the planet will entirely belong to Wall Street and the multinational corporations, likely once and for all. The coup will not fail again.

But . . . SURPRISE! I’m not going to say, “Suck it up and vote for Biden because he’s the lesser of two evils,” or “he’s the only choice we have, ” or whatever. No, I actually like Biden.

A lot.

Biden the Workhorse

I know, Joe’s old. And he’s never been charismatic or articulate – he’s a bumbler and easy to mock. More’s the pity. He’s not a good candidate. But I have followed him for many decades in my career as an environmental lobbyist on Capitol Hill and he is a good man, a skilled man, a smart man, a fair and principled man. (None of which can be said about the other guy.) He has surrounded himself with other civil servants of the same ilk.

Biden is a good president. In fact, given the pandemic/insurrection mess he inherited, I think he’ll go down in history as a great president. He’s surely not perfect by any stretch, but neither were any of our “great presidents.” I won’t give you the run-down of all the progress I believe he’s made, much of it bipartisan. You’ll see that in TV ads.

I will simply say that in one short term, Joe Biden has done more to curb climate change than any president in history. He just delayed the biggest fossil fuel expansion plan on earth – the export of liquified fracked gas from our shores – so that climate costs can be studied.

His bold new climate policies have helped bring the economy roaring back and resulted in massive job growth. Sadly, they don’t often inspire excitement because they have stupid names like the Inflation Reduction Act and the Infrastructure Investment Act. Snore.

But that’s what you would expect of Joe Biden. Not flashy, not sexy, kinda clunky. Our president is a workhorse, not a sleek thoroughbred. He is “a well-meaning, elderly man” who quietly kicks butt.

Happy President’s Day! May America choose wisely in November.

Magical Years – Happy 2024!!

Hi friends! I haven’t posted in a while. Or worked on my memoir or drafted an essay or submitted an article for publication or … well, done much of anything in the writing realm. I told you I have a job, a real full-time job, for the first time in a dozen years. I’m working at Third Act, organizing folks over sixty to protect our planet and our democracy, and I love it. But it’s eaten my writing life.

And now I’ve gone and fallen in love as well! At age 68. You just never know. More on that later. It’s a lovely story so far.

For now, I want to share this year-end blog that I wrote for Third Act. And also wish you a magical, mystical, happy new year! May your 2024 be as full of pleasant surprises as 2023 has been for me. And may donald trump disappear for good this time. Register, volunteer, vote!

Elder Power: the Heart and Soul of Third Act

A New Chapter in My Life Story

Well, hello! Somehow I’ve gone six months without sharing any words of wisdom on these pages. Partly that’s because I’m working on my first book, so most of my scribbling energy has been dedicated to those pages. Still, I’ve been working on that memoir for several years, so what could possibly explain my silence here?

Oh, yeah! I got a job. Like a real job. After fourteen years of flirting with early retirement while having dalliances with substitute teaching, elder care, a flower shop, and a housing co-op, I’m back at a for-real job. A job with regular paychecks and five-hour stretches of Zooming, and learning the ins & outs of Google Docs and Slack and Ramp and Gusto and other apps I’d never even heard of before January.

I’d like to write about my new work — I love it. It’s fascinating and it’s challenging and it’s fun. I now spend my days organizing “elders” — other folks over sixty — to protect our planet from climate chaos and our democracy from fascists.

I also want to tell you about my crazy journey of landing this dream gig. My new work-home is called Third Act, and it is indeed “new.” Climate legend and author Bill McKibben started it only eighteen months ago. It’s certainly new for me. Working for a start-up that’s 100% remote is a wholly different experience than working for an established, iconic organization like Sierra Club, where I spent my career.

But you will have to wait for those stories. Because I have to get to work on that memoir I mentioned.

Sifting Through Old Chapters

It’s a rainy Saturday here in New Hampshire, perfect for writing! I’m looking at four days to myself, because Third Act is such a fab and woke place, we are taking off both Monday & Tuesday for the Juneteenth holiday.

I’ve stacked up another set of old journals to peruse for material, 1997 – 2003. Thank God I’ve gotten through the Gingrich years! Those particular journals painfully portray the unraveling of my mental and physical health during that period. It was not a fun time for environmental advocates on Capitol Hill!

It’s hard to believe I’ve never before read through my fifty-plus years of journals. They are a treasure, both heart-breaking and uplifting to read. So much I’d forgotten! So many situations and relationships I obsessed over for months that, in the scheme of things, were all but meaningless.

These volumes help me see the larger trajectory of my life, the lessons I’ve learned that I did not know I was learning. The times I got off track and crashed into walls or drove over cliffs. The times I plugged right into the Cosmic spirit, let go of the steering wheel, and watched in wonder to see where I would end up. This time, the letting-go wonderment has landed me at Third Act.

It feels appropriate that I’m reading Julian Barnes’s novel, “A History of the World in 10 1/2 Chapters.” That’s about how it feels to wrangle the sprawling chapters of my life into a cohesive whole that (I pray) will entertain, inform, and inspire millions of avid readers . . . but I guess I’ve gotten ahead of my story now. Onward.

WILL FUSION POWER BE OUR SAVIOR?

Oh, how we love our technology! I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with it, as it’s done so much good for the world and yet may be the end of us all. (It’s already been the end of quite a few of us when you think about weapons of war and toxins in our bodies.)

Nevertheless, we are all a-twitter this week, and rightfully so, over the amazing news about fusion power. The much-anticipated holy grail of scientific and energy geeks the world over, fusion ignition has finally been achieved. Scientists call this “proof of concept.” One might argue that spending untold billions just to conclude, “yeah, maybe this could happen,” is not the best use of money. I can’t begin to imagine how much progress we could have made had we used only an itty bit of that taxpayer money to improve already viable safe, clean energy sources like solar, wind, geothermal, or tidal. I mean, solar batteries, for heaven’s sake! We can do batteries.

Still, Lawrence Livermore Lab where this proof of concept took place is a nuclear weapons lab, and I highly doubt all this fusion money would have materialized if it weren’t for the “national security” element. (Read, “new & exciting ways to pulverize humans in other countries.”)

Oh my, but I see my cynicism is showing. Sorry – it’s part of my charm.

Fusion Seems Too Good To Be True!

I’ve been reading up on fusion power a bit, enough to learn that it’s not true that fusion doesn’t produce radioactive waste. And it is true that fusion still carries the risk of terrorists creating weapons-grade plutonium 239, and that there is a danger of highly radioactive tritium (which replaces hydrogen in water molecules) leaking into our groundwater. Oh, it’s also true that the molten lithium within the reactor could explode. You know how the nuclear industry always tells us that there’s no danger of fission nuclear plants exploding? Yeah, well, welcome to the new and improved reactor.

But I’m the first to admit I know next to nothing about fusion power. I have some expertise in energy from my educational background and my 27 years as an environmental policy analyst and lobbyist with Sierra Club. But mostly I’m just googling and using my brain.

My usual sources within the national environmental community have made no comment on this scientific breakthrough, which is highly irregular because they will put out a press release at the drop of a hat. My guess is they are still scrambling to figure out how this fits in to their energy campaigns and messaging, which is understandable but not OK. They’ve let the “Hooray, we are saved from climate change” message get way down the road in front of them.

I know enough to suspect that fusion is not the solution to our climate crisis. The warming and melting and flooding and droughting that’s already been set in motion is not going to wait the decades it would take to build even one fusion reactor. But it’s way more than timing.

A Kinder, Gentler Technology

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti-technology — it will obviously play a large role in whatever efforts are made to confront the crisis. Technology caused the problem, and it must be part of the solution. I’m excited about the great potential of clean and safe energy production technologies, and also about energy conservation and efficiency technologies. Once these proven technologies free us from our fossil fuel addiction, then we can diddle around with weapons systems posing as environmental progress. Oh man, there’s my cynicism charm showing again.

It’s just that the more we as a country invest in outrageously expensive technologies that continue our reliance on centralized industrial plants connected to massive interlocking energy grids, the less we invest in the common sense, humane solution of smaller, localized energy sources that enhance our communities rather than threaten them.

My church recently converted eight acres of land to a community solar farm, designed to serve 350 families, one-third of them low-income homes at reduced cost. We didn’t like sacrificing our wildflower meadows and we had to move our beehives, but it is good to know we are part of a just and compassionate solution to humanity’s climate crisis.

CEDAR RIDGE COMMUNITY CHURCH, DOING ITS BIT TO PROTECT CREATION

Undeterred By Any Other Power On Earth

“We spend our lives, as nations and as individuals, waiting to be saved by the power of our own achievements or the power of destructive force. And yet, it is the clear, soft, consuming, overshadowing power of the {Higher Power} in us—the power of goodness that is undeterred by any other power on earth—that lies within our grasp, that can really turn all of life benevolent.”

Science and technology are great, but as long as their foundation is corporate profit and military power, I don’t see a real solution to the problem of the suicide machine we have created.

The crisis, I believe, is spiritual. It is a crisis of greed and selfishness, and the solution is compassion and kindness. I know, I’m probably being unAmerican. But I read the above quote from Joan Chittister this morning, and it got me thinking about this brouhaha over fusion. It seems to me a very costly step down the wrong road. But perhaps it’s necessary so that humanity will survive long enough to learn the compassion thing.

Morning Moment of Light

“IT IS A MOMENT OF LIGHT surrounded on all sides by darkness and oblivion. In the entire history of the universe, let alone in your own history, there has never been another just like it and there will never be another just like it again. It is the point to which all your yesterdays have been leading since the hour of your birth. It is the point from which all your tomorrows proceed until the hour of your death. If you were aware of how precious it is, you could hardly live through it. Unless you are aware of how precious it is, you can hardly be said to be living at all.”

Frederick Buechner

“Each and every morning offers us a chance to start anew, fresh, and to begin again. Each morning when we wake—should we choose to listen—is a message from the Creator to remember the privilege we were given of waking up. It’s a reminder to get up and prepare our self, to honor our self, to go out into the world, to connect with Mother Earth and the hearts of other beings, to inspire and encourage those who cross our paths, and most importantly, to enjoy life.”

Doug Good Feather

“Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the One Light Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God’s re-creation of the new day!”

Eleanor Farjeon

This is the day which the Lord has made.

Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Psalm 118

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Massive Wave of Good Climate News Engulfs Hawaii and Threatens the Mainland

Hold on, good news is on the way!!

This week, Hawaii received its final shipment of coal. Read that again, if you will. 

Its final shipment of coal.

The last delivery arrived at the state’s last functioning coal plant on Wednesday. The shipment to Oahu coincided with the release of the latest IPCC report, the most dire yet, which points to the need to abandon fossil fuels entirely ASAP.

U.N. Secretary General António Guterres warned that, “Climate activists are sometimes depicted as dangerous radicals. But the truly dangerous radicals are the countries increasing the production of fossil fuels.” 

Hawaii’s Governor David Ige signed a bill in 2015 that set a goal for state utilities to generate 100 percent of their electricity from renewables by 2045. Two years ago, another law banned utilities from adding any new coal-powered plants or extending existing coal-burning permits after this year. 

The governor recognizes that there are challenges ahead, but knows the move away from coal is necessary for future generations. “It’s the right move for our communities and the planet, ” he says. “In its time, coal was an important resource for Hawaii and I’d like to thank the workers who have run our last remaining coal plant.” Those forty displaced workers will be offered jobs at solar, wind, and battery storage facilities.

For all of us, there will be changes, challenges, and yes, some sacrifice during our transition to a sane energy future. In Hawaii, renewable energy projects are coming online rapidly, but supply chain issues have slowed construction and electricity rates on Oahu are expected to rise temporarily. Yet with so much of humanity currently enduring wildfires, heat waves, droughts, floods, and horrendous storms, we cannot wait to act.

Hawaii’s courage and bold leadership is more than welcome. As is the U.S. Democratic party’s leadership on the historic climate legislation wending its way through Congress. (Fingers crossed and prayers aloft.)

Could there be hope? I’ve got the champagne chilling.

ABORTION AMBIVALENCE IS NOT AN OPTION

Those of you who have followed this blog for a while (thank you!) know that I love politics. Probably too much. It’s an addiction, like football or baseball for some people. I follow all the stats, watch every “game,” know most of the players. This makes sense, since I lived and breathed politics during my thirty-year career as an environmental lobbyist on Capitol Hill. 

But it goes deeper than that. I grew up in a well-informed family steeped in the study of world history and engaged in current events. My father worked for the CIA and my older brother campaigned for Bobby Kennedy. Politics was always on the menu at our dinner table, for better or for worse. Some of my fondest family memories involve all of us gathered around our black & white TV set, watching political conventions. I thought this was normal.

MUST WE TALK ABOUT ABORTION?

All this to say that you may or may not have noticed that there is one hot political issue I have never written about in the ten (!!) years I’ve been blogging. Abortion. I hate the topic, and I hate how both sides use it to raise money, win elections, and stoke division and outrage. Such political posturing and messaging is hurtful and/or insulting to women. Abortion is a deeply personal and intimate issue, and every woman I know who has struggled with the decision of whether to terminate an unwanted pregnancy has been through hell, or at least purgatory.

You are not “pro-life” if you don’t support programs that help low-income women who decide to give birth to and raise their child. The GOP has always been intent on shredding the social safety net that provides healthcare, education, and nutrition for these families. You are not a “good Christian” if you verbally or otherwise abuse beleaguered woman and their doctors. 

Likewise, when Democratic strategists decided to adopt the slogan “I (heart) abortion,” I was aghast. Who loves abortion, even if you think of it only as a medical procedure? What a slap in the face to the millions of women who have faced that decision! 

I sometimes want to scream, “Shut up, everybody just shut up!”

And so, I have largely shut up. I remember once trying to cross Massachusetts Avenue with my fellow liberals when a large group of “Right to Life” marchers was wending its way up the street waving pictures of bloody fetuses. My friends were apoplectic. I stupidly said what I was thinking, which was that these people were being manipulated by radical right extremists, but that if a person truly believed that babies were being murdered, shouldn’t they be marching in the streets? 

Oops. That opinion was not allowed. 

THANK YOU KANSAS, FOR SPEAKING UP

I’ve never fit into a proper box. When abortion has been on the ballot in my state, I have voted for choice, but never enthusiastically. It wasn’t “my” issue. Over the years, my ambivalence has meant that I’ve not always been supportive of women friends when they needed me most. I deeply regret that. I hope that I am a more compassionate and less judgmental person than I used to be. 

My opinions and feelings have evolved over time, informed by science, my spiritual beliefs, and my experiences. But that’s the point, isn’t it? MY feelings, MY opinions, MY understanding of spirit and science. It is not MY right to tell anyone else how they should feel or behave, most especially when it comes to their own bodies.

And it’s certainly not the right of the government or a specific religion! Not in America. 

The Supreme Court’s extreme political activism means that I no longer have the luxury of laying low, of being “understanding of both sides.” Nope. I am wiser now. Better late than never, I guess. Ambivalence is not an option. Silence is not an option.

So today I am writing to say THANK YOU to the voters of Kansas. I especially want to thank those who may have been confused, ambivalent, or evolving on the issue of abortion, but who voted to protect a woman’s right to choose. Because in the end, it’s not about abortion and what you think about abortion. It is about abortion RIGHTS. And our basic rights are at stake. So thank you for showing up when you could have stayed home. Thank you for not shutting up. 

A MODERATELY ATYPICAL SUMMER

Greetings Dear Readers! 

Across the meadow this morning, beyond the orange day lilies, red bee balm, and purple phlox, I can see two deer and a family of wild turkeys. All is quiet, except for the neighbor’s confused rooster who crows enthusiastically and incessantly, no matter the time. And thanks to my totally awesome new app “Merlin,” I can also identify the conversation of a red-eyed vireo, a tufted titmouse, and a pileated woodpecker.

I’ve just arrived back at my sweet little house in New Hampshire after a wild & crazy June and July, full of people and travel and what felt like great adventures — though pre-pandemic they wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary. 

I’ve been to North Carolina twice, to the Outer Banks and to my beloved Wild Goose Festival near Winston-Salem. I’ve seen nearly every member of my family, including my sister whom I hadn’t seen in ten years and a cousin I hadn’t seen in even longer. I explored dinosaurs, evolution, mass extinction, and climate science at the Smithsonian Museum with my oldest friend, and served two days of jury duty with some men I do not want for new friends.

Smithsonian Wanderings

ANSWERED PRAYERS

Like many of us, I’ve been left drained and deadened by the pandemic. For several years, I’ve felt stuck, flat-lined, uninspired to do anything, let alone help save our democracy or our planet. 

But finally, God has answered my desperate plea for renewed passion and a new vision of what I am meant to be doing in these precarious times. I’m not yet ready to write about it, but I hope to share in the months to come. There are ducks to line up and God’s timing always has its way, but the Wild Goose Festival provided new connections, creative energy, and much-needed hope. I am spirit-charged and ready to go! 

All Are Welcome!

Goose Gals!

Another answered prayer took the form of a phone call from my dermatologist announcing a “moderately atypical” mole that is not dangerous. Phew! Last year, her phone call announced “squamous cell cancer” which was not nearly so welcome. Not only did she send me off to New Hampshire worry-free, she gifted me with a new favorite phrase to describe myself and my life: moderately atypical. It fits. 

On My Atypical Way Again

Day before yesterday, I stood on the shoulder of I-90 in Massachusetts staring at my flat tire as tractor trailers plummeted down a steep hill towards me and a gritty wind whipped my face. Forty minutes later, my rescuers had dragged a spare tire from the hatch, mounted it, and then stayed to repack my belongings. The state trooper held two boxes of houseplants, a cheerful white orchid blossom bobbing about her face. The bemused and be-greased truck driver cradled a crumpled plastic four-pack of wilting parsley and decrepit thyme. When my backseat garden had been safely tucked in, the trooper got in her car and set the lights flashing.

“Moderately atypical,” I said to my cat Alice as I buckled up, eased into traffic, and headed north.

Just One of My Moderately Atypical Neighbors

Finding Hope This Fourth of July

Happy Independence Day. I guess. It hardly feels worth celebrating this year, unlike last year when the vast majority of Americans celebrated the end of trump’s reign with a heartfelt “PHEW!” By last 4th of July, the trauma of the insurrection had begun to fade and denial was settling in, at least in my beleaguered brain. 

One year later, it’s hard to deny that the trump damage is wide and deep and lasting — for all of us, but especially for women and for the poor among us, who are hardest hit when voting and abortion rights are denied and the climate crisis worsens. 

IS THE SUN SETTING ON OUR REPUBLIC?

Life is overwhelming lately, right? I’ve had to abandon this blog post several times. Finding solid words to stand on is difficult, as I stumble between disbelief and grief, outrage and numbness, shock and hardened cynicism. Cynicism is the most dangerous, because it kills hope, and without hope we don’t vote and we don’t march and we don’t show up. And we “writing activists” don’t write. 

A STRONG DOSE OF HOPE

Thank God for Cassidy Hutchinson, who offered a strong dose of hope to those who seek truth and justice in the wake of the January 6th attempted coup. (Which is, let’s not kid ourselves, ongoing.) Everyone says her testimony was “shocking” and “stunning.” I suppose in a normal world, that would be so, but the most shocking part to me was that I wasn’t shocked.

A WOMAN OF COURAGE

As alarming as Hutchinson’s testimony was, none of it was out of character for the 45th president. Not the rage, the violence, the pettiness, the crazy. Not even the part where he demanded metal detectors be dismantled so that an armed mob could enter the ellipse and make a better photo op for him before descending on the Capitol building where the entire Congress and the Vice President were doing the work of democracy. 

OK, that particular bit did shock me. But not because of trump’s treasonous behavior — I just did not expect the Committee to hand the Department of Justice such a clear smoking gun. (Never has “smoking gun” been a more apt metaphor.)

WOMEN OF COURAGE

So if not shock, then what was my overwhelming feeling as I watched that brave 25 year-old woman raise her hand and risk her career — and perhaps her very life — for love of country? As she promised to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth to that even braver 55 year-old woman from Wyoming who daily takes those same risks, only on steroids? I felt grief. Deep grief for our nation. I was surprised by my tears. My hard trump-shell cracked. Most of us knew we were in great peril when that man took over, but I honestly never imagined. And trust me, I thought I was fearing the worst. 

Let me be clear: I’m not saying Hutchinson and Cheney are heroes. They enabled and abetted trump every step of the way. Until they didn’t. They are courageous and they are strong and their bravery may save what’s left of democracy. Thank God for them, and may others follow their lead. But let’s not call them heroes. They and their ilk are largely responsible for America’s minority overrunning the majority, and for the Supreme Court’s dismantling of our freedom and independence just in time for the Fourth of July, 2022.

PRAYERS AND SPIT

I pray fervently for our nation this Fourth. Most especially for the direct victims of the Court’s recent rampage through our life, liberty and happiness: My heart is with all women — especially low-income women — and with Black voters, Native Americans, and kids who fear getting blown to bits at school. And of course my heart hurts for every living creature threatened by the Court’s choice of corporate profits and climate chaos over life. Amen.

Let’s celebrate this day with intention and determination and courage. May we all spit in the face of fear and take a hard hold on hope this Fourth of July.

Soon We Will See Their Faces

We all know how this goes. Soon we will see the pictures on our screens and in our newspapers. The scrubbed and smiling faces of the newly dead children, murdered by our inaction on gun control. By the National Rifle Association and the elected officials it pays off to make sure there is no action taken to save such children. 

The children of Uvalde, Texas went to school today with their sticky homework papers and lunch bags tucked inside their little backpacks. They trusted the adults in their lives to keep them safe. But their trust was misplaced. The grown-ups of America are allowing the continued  slaughter of these innocents.

So far this year, 134 children under twelve have been killed by gun violence. All those little faces. 

Many GOP senators have already spewed their disingenuous prayers all over social media. Shut up. Just shut up. Stop pretending you care, you craven hypocrites. These children don’t need your prayers. They need you to stop voting against gun control. They need you to stop accepting money from the political strategists and lobbyists behind the NRA carnage.

And if you are inclined to tell me not to talk about politics while we are grieving? Don’t. Do. Not.