Another key Trump adviser jumps ship.
Opioid overdoses surge 30% in one year.
Russian plane crash in Syria kills dozens.
West Virginia teachers get 5% pay raise; end strike.
Another Nor’easter is on its way.
Attorney General Jefferson Beauregard Sessions III on the opioid problem in America.
TAMPA — U.S. Attorney General Jeff Sessions has drawn jeers for suggesting that people in pain should consider over-the-counter Bufferin instead of opioids.
On Wednesday, Sessions was in Tampa, touting the Trump administration’s efforts to combat drug abuse and trafficking.
This time, he broadened his suggestion to aspirin.
“I am operating on the assumption that this country prescribes too many opioids,” Sessions said. “People need to take some aspirin sometimes.”
Sessions delivered a 25-minute address at the U.S. Attorney’s Office in Tampa, speaking to local police and federal prosecutors about the devastating impact of opioid abuse, including heroin and its high-powered cousin, fentanyl.
In 2016, there were 64,000 overdose deaths nationwide. That’s almost the entire population of Daytona Beach, Sessions noted.
“As we all know, these are not numbers,” Sessions said. “These are moms, dads, daughters, spouses, friends, and neighbors.”
But Sessions, veering away from his prepared remarks, also made an example of Gen. John Kelly, the president’s chief of staff, whom he said refused opioids after a minor surgery.
“He goes, ‘I’m not taking any drugs,’?” the attorney general said, imitating Kelly’s voice and getting a chuckle from the crowd. “But, I mean, a lot of people — you can get through these things.”
Much in the way Nancy Reagan and a lot of conservatives did with the drug problem — “Just Say No” — he’s come up with a glib and a simplistic way to solve a terrible problem. It’s like saying the cure for alcoholism is to just stop drinking.
He’s also overlooking the fact that the pharmaceutical industry has made a huge fortune off of what we used to call “patent medicine” and pushes these drugs through doctors who are both desperate to help their patients with real pain and patients who expect to find a miracle cure for every problem in a pill. Big Pharma fills our TV with ads for treatments everything — remember “restless leg syndrome”? (They’ve even come up with a pill for men with bent dicks. I’m not kidding.)
Pain management has become big business and it’s led to big problems. So in an artless and insensitive way, Mr. Sessions is talking about something that we need to deal with. I just wish he wouldn’t make it sound so glib.
As a recovering addict and alcoholic, I find nothing quite so galling as a lecture about sobriety from a lifelong teetotaler. “Drugs are terrible! Take it from me, a person who has never tried a single one.”
You don’t even have to have struggled with the harrowing push-pull of chemical dependency to instinctively distrust such smug scolding; ask literally any human person. Ignoring overly sanctimonious counsel is, arguably, what makes us human. Pious warnings against pleasurable but illicit behavior are demonstrably, singularly, historically useless. I am pretty sure, for instance, that someone, somewhere once warned Donald Trump not to cheat on his wife.
Yet it was Trump, famously abstinent if not always sober-minded, who on Thursday made self-enforced abstinence from illegal narcotics the central plank of the administration’s belated new anti-opioid epidemic policy. He touted a “massive advertising campaign to get people, especially children, not to want to take drugs in the first place.”
“It’s going to wind up being the most important thing,” he said. “Really tough, really big, really great advertising.”
“This was an idea that I had,” he declared, “where if we can teach young people not to take drugs, just not to take them.”
Well. I see. Yes, that’s probably what we were doing wrong.
Nobody chooses their addiction. It finds you, and in my personal experience, it shows up as your best friend, your lover, your comforter, and your refuge until it’s too late and the destruction has begun. No one ever “gets over it” and no one is ever fully recovered. It is a matter of delicate equilibrium, and the temptations to succumb are many and powerful.
The best you can hope for is an armed truce: peace with vigilance. Every addict knows you cannot let down your guard for a moment. So being lectured about “Just Say No” by someone who has never been there — or worse, cannot acknowledge their own faults and limitations — is more than just galling. It is deadly because it gives false hope and ersatz comfort, not unlike the addiction itself.
You don’t need to have tried drugs to know this. It takes just a small measure of emotional imagination, but Trump has none. He is so grotesquely pampered, he can’t imagine an indulgence becoming a burden. He can’t imagine wanting something you can’t have.
I wouldn’t wish addiction on anyone, but it would be better hearing this crap from someone who’s been there. But if they have, they would never say it in the first place.
And so is Trump.
Trump on Thursday directed the Department of Health and Human Services to declare the opioid crisis a public health emergency, taking long-anticipated action to address a rapidly escalating epidemic of drug use.
But even as he vowed to alleviate the scourge of drug addiction and abuse that has swept the country — a priority that resonated strongly with the working-class voters who supported his presidential campaign — Mr. Trump fell short of fulfilling his promise in August to declare “a national emergency” on opioids, which would have prompted the rapid allocation of federal funding to address the issue.
His directive does not on its own release any additional funds to deal with a drug crisis that claimed more than 59,000 lives in 2016, and the president did not request any, although his aides said he would soon do so. And he made little mention of the need for the rapid and costly expansion of medical treatment that public health specialists, including some in his own administration, argue is crucial to addressing the epidemic.
He might as well just kept ignoring it and letting the drug companies that make the poison keep sending money to his campaign. It’s crueler to make a big deal about it and raise hopes that something will come of it and then not actually do anything than it would be to just let it fester.
Do Your Job, Media — Sophia A. McClennen in Salon on the press caving to Trump’s propaganda.
On Nov. 13, 1969, then Vice President Spiro Agnew passionately denounced television news broadcasters as a biased “unelected elite” who subjected President Richard M. Nixon’s speeches to instant analysis. Disagreeing with the views expressed by broadcasters like Walter Cronkite, Agnew argued that the president had a “right” to communicate directly with the people without having his words “characterized through the prejudices of hostile critics.” When Agnew went on to call for greater government regulation of the media’s “virtual monopoly” on public information, Cronkite responded that such a call was “an implied threat to freedom of speech in this country.”
Many have argued that President Donald Trump’s administration has borrowed heavily from the Nixon-Agnew playbook. Trump referenced the “silent majority” throughout his campaign — a term that Nixon popularized in a 1969 speech. When Trump repeatedly attacks the press, calling the media the “enemy of the people,” it’s easy to hear echoes of Agnew.
But while members of the Trump team draw on their predecessors, it would be a mistake to see a complete pattern match. One can only wonder what would have happened if Nixon had access to Twitter and we can only guess at the possibility of a Nixon-era Steve Bannon in the White House. While tabloid news like that found in the National Enquirer has a much longer history than today’s alt-news, we never have had such an open and obvious propaganda machine coming out of the White House.
Agnew referred to the press as an “unelected elite.” Trump’s chief strategist Bannon raised him one and has described the press as the “opposition party.” Trump’s endless press slurs are too numerous to even list. And these are just the open and public attacks. As Carole Cadwalladr has chillingly recounted for The Guardian, the backstory is the way that big-data billionaire and Trump supporter Robert Mercer is waging war on the mainstream media. According to her, his goal is nothing short of changing the way the entire nation thinks.
The Trump attacks on the press are not just Nixon 2.0. In fact, they literally have no historical precedent.
Here’s the thing, though: These attacks should actually be good news for the press. Recall that well before Trump had any idea he was going to win, the public’s trust in the press was at an all-time low. A Gallup poll from September 2016 showed that Americans’ trust and confidence in the mass media “to report the news fully, accurately and fairly” had dropped to the lowest level in Gallup polling history, with only 32 percent of those polled saying they had a great deal or fair amount of trust in the media. That number was down 8 percentage points from 2015.
Given the clearly unhinged ways that Trump, Bannon, press secretary Sean Spicer and senior adviser Kellyanne Conway make things up, attack critics and fumble with even basic parts of speech, the press should be having a field day. Then there is the ongoing question of Trump’s endless conflicts of interest. Add to that the blatant disregard for civil rights, the selection of Cabinet members who generally hate the mission of the departments they lead, the basic disrespect for any system of checks and balances, and it seems clear that the press should be well on its way to regaining public trust.
Trump is literally dismantling government before our eyes while spitting on the First Amendment. It’s an easy story to go after and it should be turning the press into our hero.
So far it’s not.
Sure, there is lots of good investigative reporting coming from independent news sources and even from some mainstream outlets, but the Trump era shows no signs of a Bob Woodward or a Carl Bernstein. And no one on mainstream television news comes close to Cronkite.
Remember when Stephen Colbert roasted President George W. Bush at the White House Correspondent’s Dinner in 2006? At that time news media outlets had largely swallowed the narrative offered them by the Bush administration. So Colbert chose to use his speech to roast the media as much as Bush. He started off saying, “Over the last five years you people were so good, over tax cuts, WMD intelligence, the effect of global warming. We Americans didn’t want to know, and you had the courtesy not to try to find out.”
Colbert reminded his listeners that the media had simply failed to fact-check the White House as the Bush administration led us into war, denied climate change and lowered taxes on the rich. He riffed on the idea that it seemed as if all media outlets did was repeat what the press secretary told them. He mocked media organizations, saying all they had to do was put White House comments “through a spell-check and go home.”
Colbert chastised the news media: “Write that novel you got kicking around in your head. You know, the one about the intrepid Washington reporter with the courage to stand up to the administration? You know, fiction!”
If we weren’t watching carefully, we might think that today’s press has finally listened to Colbert.
But certainly this is a news media that doesn’t take everything press secretary Spicer says to be fact. If anything, the opposite is true. The news media seems ready to pounce on any and everything coming out of the White House.
That is just one of the many ways that the press is blowing it.
As Jon Stewart illustrated brilliantly in a cameo for “The Late Show with Stephen Colbert,” the press needs to “break up with Trump.” Despite the existence of what seems to be investigative reporting, what we really have is a mainstream press obsessed with each and every little thing Trump does.
Why does CNN report on Trump using tape to hold down a tie? Why does ABC follow his rants about Arnold Schwarzenegger? And how does the Associated Press defend publishing the email addresses of Mike Pence and his wife? It may not have been meant as doxing, but it certainly isn’t good journalism.
This means that when the White House chief of staff, Reince Preibus, goes after news media outlets and accuses them of “acting like Washington daily gossip magazines,” there is sadly too much truth to what he says.
The point is that members of the mainstream press have a chance to rescue their image and offer the public the truth in the midst of the most outrageously dishonest administration in history. Instead, they seem to be favoring the exact same sort of fear-based, hyperbolic, spectacle-heavy reporting we had during the Bush years.
To make it worse, even when news outlets cover an important story, they literally bury the lede. Rather than open stories on Trump by pointing out that he is once again going off the rails, they open with details of the actual rant.
Consider, for example, Trump’s baseless accusation that Obama wiretapped him. The Washington Post ran an AP story with this headline: “Trump Accuses Obama of Tapping His Phones, Cites No Evidence.” When CNN ran the story, it opened with Trump’s claims and captured Trump’s tweets. It was only after several paragraphs that CNN reported quotes from experts who dismissed Trump’s accusations.
The point, as Gleb Tsipursky, an Ohio State University professor, has argued, is that only those who read deep into a story will get the true picture. Meanwhile the 6 in 10 who read only headlines will come away believing false information. He explained, “Thinking errors will cause the majority of Americans to develop a mistaken impression of Trump’s wiretapping claims as legitimate, despite the lack of evidence.”
Another key problem is the accusation that the media is biased against Trump. Every single member of the Trump team makes this claim. In response, we see the mainstream news media attempt to suggest impartiality and ensure “balance” by assembling panels of experts with opposing views.
But it is not the news media’s job to be neutral; its job is to report the truth.
Before we wait for the press to pull itself together and offer the public the reporting that’s needed, we would do well to remember that it may well be the case that we can thank the mainstream news media for Trump’s win.
As Harvard’s Shorenstein Center on Media, Politics and Public Policy reported in December, the press failed U.S. voters. The center found most coverage had been negative in tone and light on policy. An earlier study showed that in 2015 Trump received disproportionate coverage in the press, given his low status in the polls. During the primaries, Trump’s coverage was also generally positive in tone, and he received far more “good press” than “bad press.”
The Shorenstein center concluded that the volume and tone of the coverage helped propel Trump to the top of polls of Republicans: “Journalists seemed unmindful that they and not the electorate were Trump’s first audience.” And the center also pointed out that “Trump exploited their lust for riveting stories” and referred to Trump as the first “bona fide media-created presidential nominee.”
It turns out that the story of Trump as a whirling dervish of insanity may well perfectly fit the mainstream media’s desire for click-bait. But simply covering the next Trump meltdown is not what we need. What we need is accurate and fearless reporting of the issues that are important for the health of our democracy.
Rather than ask news media outlets to go after Trump, we should pressure them to follow Cronkite’s playbook and go after the truth.
How Trumpcare Will Make the Opioid Epidemic Worse — Julia Lurie in Mother Jones.
During his campaign, President Donald Trump said his supporters were “always” bringing up one issue: the opioid epidemic. “We’re going to take all of these kids—and people, not just kids—that are totally addicted and they can’t break it,” he promised at a Columbus, Ohio town hall meeting last August. “We’re going to work with them, we’re going to spend the money, we’re gonna get that habit broken.”
Yet in the midst of the largest drug epidemic in the nation’s history, the Republican plan to replace Obamacare threatens to cut insurance coverage for mental health and addiction treatment for millions of Americans. The effect, public health advocates worry, would be to further decrease access to substance abuse treatment at a time when drug overdoses are claiming more 50,000 American lives per year—more than car accidents or gun violence.
Their concerns with the Republican plan to repeal Obamacare, titled the American Health Care Act, fall into two broad categories: The legislation limits who qualifies for public insurance, and it eliminates the requirement that many insurance plans cover substance abuse and mental health treatment.
Freezing Medicaid expansion
One of the most significant (and controversial) parts of Obamacare was a provision that expanded Medicaid to millions more poor Americans. Under the Affordable Care Act, those who earn up to 138 percent of the federal poverty level are eligible for this government-funded insurance program. In 2012, the Supreme Court ruled that states could choose whether or not they wanted to participate in the program, and 31 states have done so—resulting in health coverage for an additional 11 million Americans through Medicaid expansion. Of those, an estimated 1.3 million used their newly acquired insurance for substance abuse or mental health services, according to an analysis by researchers Richard Frank of Harvard Medical School and Sherry Glied of New York University.
The Republicans’ health care plan would freeze Medicaid expansion, cutting off funds for states adding new enrollees starting in 2020. Those already enrolled in Medicaid expansion plans by 2020 would continue to receive the benefits, but they would be at constant risk of losing that insurance. Anyone who has a gap in insurance coverage of more a month—say because they miss a deadline or their income temporarily changes—would lose eligibility. (A lack of private health insurance would be penalized too: Going more than 63 days without coverage would increase premiums by 30 percent for a year.) These provisions have a lot of public health advocates worried. It’s not uncommon for people, particularly those with serious mental health and addiction problems, to drift in and out of insurance coverage.
Eliminating “essential” services
Under Obamacare, insurers are required to offer so-called “essential health benefits,” including mental health and substance abuse services. In order to sell insurance, insurers have to cover addiction treatment. (Other essential benefits currently include contraception, preventative care, and emergency services—here’s the full list). That set of guarantees also applied to how states must structure their Medicaid programs.
The GOP plan would remove the entire package of essential benefit requirements, including mental health and substance abuse treatment, from Medicaid expansion insurance, as well as from some other Medicaid plans. Starting in 2020, each state could choose whether the insurance offered by Medicaid would include these benefits. Rep. Joe Kennedy (D-Mass.), an outspoken critic of the legislation, pressed GOP lawyers on the matter on Wednesday:
Medicaid, which provides insurance coverage for more than 70 million Americans, is the largest payer for addiction services across the country. Eliminating a chunk of that funding could be particularly crippling for many of the communities that voted Trump into office, notes Keith Humphreys, a Stanford University psychiatry professor who advised the Obama administration on drug policy.
West Virginia and Ohio, for example, have some of the highest rates of opioid overdoses in the country. In those states, which both adopted Obamacare’s Medicaid expansion, Medicaid pays for more than 40 percent of the cost of buprenorphine, a life-saving opioid addiction medication. “This will hurt the worst in the places that supported these politicians the most,” says Humphreys. “They voted in this Congress that is now going to stick a knife in them.”
Sucker Punched — John Cassidy in The New Yorker on Trump’s phony populism.
Kevin McCarthy, the Republican House Majority Leader, went on Sean Hannity’s show on Thursday night and tried to talk up the awful health-care bill that his party had just rushed through two committees. His message was aimed at the ultra-conservative groups, such as the Freedom Caucus and Heritage Action for America, that have come out strongly against the proposed legislation. McCarthy didn’t try to claim that the bill would make health care more affordable or widely available. Instead, he defended its conservative bona fides, twice pointing out that it would repeal all the taxes that were introduced under the Affordable Care Act—taxes that mainly hit the one per cent.
Hannity, who is one of President Trump’s biggest boosters, didn’t hide his loyalties or his concern about the political firestorm that the bill has set off. “This has to work: there is no option here,” he said at one point. Later, he warned, “As soon as it passes, you own it.”
Intentionally or not, Hannity summed up the political dilemma facing Trump and his Administration. The White House has embraced Paul Ryan’s handiwork—the House Speaker is the bill’s top backer—and they are now trying together to persuade the full House and the Senate to vote for at least some version of it. But if the bill does pass and Trump signs it into law, what happens then? The health-care industry will be thrown into turmoil; many millions of Americans will lose their coverage; many others, including a lot of Trump voters (particularly elderly ones), will see their premiums rise sharply; and Trump will risk being just as closely associated with “Trumpcare” as Barack Obama was with Obamacare.
Two questions arise: Why did Ryan and his colleagues propose such a lemon? And why did Trump agree to throw his backing behind it?
The first question is easier to answer. For seven years, promising to get rid of Obamacare has been a rallying cry for Republicans on Capitol Hill—one supported by both Party leaders and activists, as well as by big donors, such as the Koch brothers. It was inevitable that, if the G.O.P. ever took power, it would move to fulfill this pledge, despite the human costs of doing so.
What wasn’t anticipated was that the Republican leadership would run into hostility from the right. But that, too, is explainable. After November’s election, Ryan and his colleagues were forced to face the reality that fully repealing the A.C.A. would require sixty votes in the Senate, which wasn’t achievable. Many of the things that ultra-conservatives see as shortcomings in the bill now being considered—such as the retention of rules dictating what sorts of policies insurers can offer—are in there to make sure that the Senate can pass the bill as part of the budget-reconciliation process, which requires just fifty-one votes. As McCarthy explained to Hannity, “The challenge is the process of how we have to do this.”
The more interesting question is why Trump would stake his credibility on such a deeply regressive, and potentially unpopular, proposal. During the campaign, he frequently promised to repeal Obamacare—but it wasn’t one of his main issues. Clamping down on immigration, embracing economic protectionism, rebuilding infrastructure, and blowing a raspberry at the Washington establishment were much more central to his platform.
Early in the campaign, in fact, Trump praised socialized medicine, and promised to provide everybody with health care. “As far as single-payer, it works in Canada. It works incredibly well in Scotland,” he said in August, 2015, during the first Republican debate. A month later, he told “60 Minutes,” “I am going to take care of everybody. I don’t care if it costs me votes or not. Everybody’s going to be taken care of much better than they’re taken care of now.”
Part of what is going on is that Trump needs a quick legislative success. He is keenly aware that, by this stage in his Presidency, Obama had signed a number of important bills, including a big stimulus package. Trump also badly needs to change the subject from Russia. It might sound crazy to suggest that a President would embrace a bill that could do him great harm in the long term just for a few days’ respite, but these are crazy times. If nothing else, the political furor surrounding the House G.O.P. proposal has eclipsed the headlines about Trump claiming that Obama wiretapped him. For much of this week, Trump has ducked out of sight, letting Ryan and his bill take the spotlight.
That’s not the only way the Russian story may have played into this. As the pressure grows for a proper independent probe of Trump’s ties to Moscow, he must retain the support of the G.O.P. leadership, which has the power to block such an investigation. It has long been clear that the relationship between the Republican Party and Trump is based on a quid pro quo, at least tacitly: in return for dismissing concerns about his authoritarianism, self-dealing, and Russophilia, the Party gets to enact some of the soak-the-poor policies it has long been promoting. For a time, it seemed like Trump was the senior partner in this arrangement. But now Republicans like Ryan have more leverage, and Trump has more of an incentive to go along with them.
Still, even if he had more leeway to speak out against the House G.O.P. bill, is there any reason to think he would? The thing always to remember about Trump—and this week has merely confirmed it—is that he is a sham populist. A sham authoritarian populist, even.
Going back to late-nineteenth-century Germany, many of the most successful authoritarian populists have expanded the social safety net. Otto von Bismarck, the first Chancellor, introduced health insurance, accident insurance, and old-age pensions. “The actual complaint of the worker is the insecurity of his existence,” he said in 1884. “He is unsure if he will always have work, he is unsure if he will always be healthy, and he can predict that he will reach old age and be unable to work.”
During the twentieth century, Argentina’s Juan Perón, Malaysia’s Tunku Abdul Rahman, and Singapore’s Lee Kuan Yew were among the authoritarian leaders who followed Bismarck’s example. Today, if you look at the election platform of Marine Le Pen, the leader of the French National Front, you see something similar. Like Trump, Le Pen is a nativist, a protectionist, and an Islamophobe. But she is not proposing to dismantle any of the many social benefits that the French state provides. Rather, she says she will expand child-support payments and reduce the retirement age to sixty.
Trump, on the other hand, has little to offer ordinary Americans except protectionist rhetoric and anti-immigrant measures. Before moving to gut Obamacare, he at least could have tried to bolster his populist credentials by passing a job-creating infrastructure bill or a middle-class tax cut. Instead, he’s staked his Presidency on a proposal that would hurt many of his supporters, slash Medicaid, undermine the finances of Medicare, and benefit the donor class. That’s not populism: it’s the reverse of it. And it might be a political disaster in the making.
Doonesbury — Rank amateur.
EgyptAir hijacking ends peacefully.
President Obama announced new proposals to fight the opioid addiction epidemic.
North Carolina Attorney General Roy Cooper announced he will not defend the state’s new LGBTQ discrimination law. (Cooper is the current governor’s opponent in this year’s election.)
The Supreme Court wants to hear more on the Obamacare contraception case.
The Justice Department vs. Apple case is officially over.
Rep. Trey Radel, a Tea Party congressman from Fort Myers, Florida, gets busted for buying cocaine in Washington, D.C., and he blames it on “struggling with the disease of alcoholism.”
“As the father of a young son and a husband to a loving wife, I need to get help so I can be a better man for both of them.”
Setting aside the obvious cracks about having to be shitfaced to believe Tea Party crap in the first place, I’m not buying the line about excusing it because of his disease. I’ve sat through too many meetings where someone claims that the fault is laid on the disease and that’s why they’re still using or drinking. It doesn’t work. Saying “I need help” is not enough.
It’s nice, I suppose, that Mr. Radel is getting support from his Republican colleagues and they’re asking for understanding and privacy, going so far as to say that now is not the time to consider the political ramifications. After all, the GOP has a fine collection of serial adulterers, johns, and self-loathing closet cases to pack all the available 12-step programs in every church basement or Quaker meeting house, so why should Mr. Radel be hounded from office?
I’ve pretty much kept away from the stories mocking Toronto Mayor Rob Ford because it’s obvious that he has an addiction problem and he’s struggling with it. He needs medical attention and treatment, not a re-run of jokes from the Dean Martin roasts.
Boston bomber officially charged while still in the hospital.
Lone wolves — Tsarnaev claims he has no links to terrorist groups.
Canada thwarts plot to bomb train.
Five dead in shooting in Seattle.
21 and up — New York City considers raising age to buy tobacco.
Severe weather still hammers the Midwest.
As promised, the flight delays stack up as the FAA furloughs begin.
On Living Armed — Ta-Nehisi Coates answers the question, “If you were confronted with an ‘active shooter,’ do you think, in that moment, you might wish you had a gun?”
I think that last question gets to the heart of a difference. I actually wouldn’t wish I had a gun. I’ve shot a rifle at camp once, but that’s about it. If I had a gun, there is a good chance I would shoot myself, thus doing the active shooter’s work for him (it’s usually “him.”) But the deeper question is, “If I were confronted with an active shooter, would I wish to have a gun and be trained in its use?” It’s funny, but I still don’t know that I would. I’m pretty clear that I am going to die one day. That moment will not be of my choosing, and it almost certainly will not be too my liking. But death happens. Life — and living — on the other hand are more under my control. And the fact is that I would actually rather die by shooting than live armed.
This is not mere cant. It is not enough to have a gun, anymore than it’s enough to have a baby. It’s a responsibility. I would have to orient myself to that fact. I’d have to be trained and I would have to, with some regularity, keep up my shooting skills. I would have to think about the weight I carried on my hip and think about how people might respond to me should they happen to notice. I would have to think about the cops and how I would interact with them, should we come into contact. I’d have to think about my own anger issues and remember that I can never be an position where I have a rage black-out. What I am saying is, if I were gun-owner, I would feel it to be really important that I be a responsible gun-owner, just like, when our kids were born, we both felt the need to be responsible parents. The difference is I like “living” as a parent. I accept the responsibility and rewards of parenting. I don’t really want the responsibilities and rewards of gun-ownership. I guess I’d rather work on my swimming. And I think, given the concentration of guns in a smaller and smaller number of hands, there’s some evidence that society agrees.
Which is not to say those of us who don’t own guns don’t want to live. We do. But it’s not clear that this particular way of living will even be effective. I think about the shooter down at the Empire State Building a few months back. The police showed up to protect the public and ended in a shoot-out with a guy. Nine bystanders were wounded — all at the hands of the police. It’s just not clear to me that this sort of situation wouldn’t repeat itself, but with citizens doing the wounding. With that kind of risk, perhaps it’s better to handle “gun safety” before we get to the moment of an “active shooter.”
Quitter — Taylor Ellsworth finds that not everyone wanted him to quit smoking.
I’m 55 days off of smoking cigarettes.
Quitting is an incredibly difficult feat; urban legend tells us that it takes most people an average of seven attempts to quit successfully. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve tried. Though you’d think that triumphing over alcohol and bulimia would render nicotine an easy feat, it’s been anything but. In theory, it’s odd that I ever took up smoking in the first place. I’m incredibly vain and I’ve always been active. One of my first memories is comprised of rummaging through my mom’s glove box to find a cherry-red pack of Marlboro reds and subsequently tossing them out the window of the moving car while smiling devilishly at her. Needless to say, she was furious with me, and I was crushed that she didn’t find my antics charming. Several years of a pack-a-day habit later, I understand completely.
The first time I seriously tried to quit smoking, I’d been sober about two years. I’d recently taken up running and wanted to see if I could improve my lung capacity; saving money and not smelling like a homeless man were also big draws. Discussing my choice with my boyfriend and sponsor, who were both thrilled, helped solidify the decision. To my surprise, when I moved onto the rest of my support group, they were nonplussed. Half the people I knew seemed to believe that smoking helped us stay sober and sane, and that the emotional havoc that accompanied quitting wasn’t worth the (unlikely) possibility of actually making it to the other side as a nonsmoker. One well-meaning friend explained that smoking produces a rush of cigarette-specific endorphins that can’t be obtained by virtually any other means. Others told me I should wait until I was more emotionally stable, because putting myself in the heightened state of stress brought on by quitting might be too much to handle. I’d like to believe that these friends were all well intentioned. There were, of course, others who were more transparent in their intentions. Some laughed at my avowal or offered me cigarettes. While some of them might’ve just been engaging in some (albeit inappropriate) fun, others were undoubtedly jealous. Making a decision of the self-improvement variety, from quitting smoking to kicking soda, is like an open invitation to criticism to those who are insecure about their own behavior—and what better place to find insecurity-ridden jokesters than in the rooms of AA? My choice prompted other smokers to consider their own pack-a-day habits. This is human nature and I certainly recall assuming when my sponsor explained that she’d quit smoking several years prior at our first coffee and Big Book session, she must’ve been disgusted by me. Ironically, my struggle to quit has taught me immense empathy both for those who’ve quit and those who can’t bring themselves to give it up.
The Lives They Lived — The New York Times Magazine remembers just a few of the people who passed this way and then passed on this year.
This issue is meant to be a celebration of life, not an expression of grief. But since the tragedy in Newtown, Conn., grief has been unavoidable. Our wish for those who knew and loved the 20 children and 6 adults killed at Sandy Hook Elementary School is that they are held up by those around them until the day comes when they might feel something other than terrible loss. And our wish for the rest of us is that we all might help turn despair into hope.
Doonesbury — Movin’ on up.