I am linking to this article by Adam Gopnik in the New Yorker (and I hope the link works), because Mr. Richard Martinez speaks for me, too. Like Mr. Gopnik, I have a 20-year-old son who goes to college in Southern California. Do you know, I was driving when I heard the about YET ANOTHER gun massacre on the news. And I thought, oh, my, god, it could be my son. It wasn't. It was Mr. Martinez's son. Let's name him because he shouldn't be forgotten: Christopher Michael-Martinez.
No, it wasn't my son, but it could have been. And next it could be your daughter, your wife, your husband, your mother, your father. Enough. How absolutely horrifying that I have now to make a label that says "massacre." That this has become a staple in our lexicon.