Kai Staats – Page 36

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So far Kai Staats has created 551 blog entries.

Growth in the dark …

While unusual for me to reference Facebook, a recent thread of responses to a post concerning moving my belongings into storage invoked an insightful, touching display of support from friends, as follows …

I wrote, “I moved the first of my things into storage. I know, I know, people do it all the time. But it feels strange, constricting even, to take much of what represents me from a living, breathing space which I created into a small, poorly lit room. Inside, I fear my inventions, my art, my photographs and books will shrivel and die without the light of day.”

“They are just waiting for the time when you need them again. No shriveling, just waiting … this is a time for growth. Interestingly enough, growth is often (if not always) accompanied by fear. In other words, you’re right on track!” –Stephanie W.

“Stephanie said it better — it’s all good!!!” –Dave W.

“Most growth happens in the dark, seeds come into their emergence through a tunnel of dark, poorly lit soil and then WALA into the light, ABUNDANCE, RESURRECTION, LIFE!!!!! YEAHHHHHHH!!!! congrats on selling your home.” –Cielo L.

“Trust me, [they] will be there … the pages of paper my father wrote on are yellowing and brittle but they survive … I am curing myself of hoarding stuff and things … but some memories must be preserved … wrote poems about it and all” –Vitus

“Just objects, the ideas and creativity that spurred them are stil inside you, ready to be returned to when you have time time and attention to nurture them. If anything its good to clear your physical space and mind like this when you need that focus for other dreams.” –Rebecca C.

“If Kai’s worldly possessions start growing like [weeds] then I’ll finally get some use out of this flamethrower.” –Glenn B.

By Kai Staats|2012-07-18T13:52:01-04:00July 18th, 2012|At Home in the Rockies|0 Comments

An Afternoon at Apple

At any given Apple Store there seem to be a lot of people wearing name tags that claim “Genius” and yet, they know very little about how computers actually work. As former CEO of a top-tier Apple VAR, yes, I have a level of expertise that is beyond that of the average user, but that does not mean that my experience should be so frustrating that I’d rather venture to BestBuy.

A recent example of an interaction at an Apple Store:

Apple Genius: “Can I help you sir?”
Me: “Yes. I would like to compare the graphics cards in your current models, laptops and Mac minis, to determine how I might improve the render time for video editing.”
AG: “Oh! The new models are 2.6 times faster!”
Me: “Faster than what?”
AG: “Well, faster than before?”
Me: “Before what? The last model?”
AG: “Yes.”
Me: “Really? Are you certain? The CPU frequency is just 10% higher than in the last model. So how can it be 2.6 times faster?”
AG: “Oh. Well, … er, what kind of software are you using?”
Me: “Video editing. Adobe Premier.”
AG: “Ah! If you were using FinalCut, it would be must faster.”
Me: “I tried the new version of FinalCut. It’s a child’s toy compared to Premier. But more importantly, both use GPUs. Again, that is why I am here. I want to compare the graphics cards of your current models to determine which will give me the best render times.”
AG: (rambles on about FinalCut and improvements)
Me: “Look. Is there anyone here to knows about GPUs? Maybe some other Genius?”
AG: “Let me see who I can find for you.”

I wait. A good fifteen minutes later another Genius approaches. The first hovers, listening in.

AG2: “How can I help you?”
Me: “Do you know anything about GPUs? The number of cores, the on-board RAM associated with the graphics cards in your current units?”
AG2: “Yes. How can I help you?”
Me: “I want to compare the current laptops with the Mac minis, to determine which is the best platform for video rendering.”
AG2: “Hands down, the 15″ laptops are the best.”
Me: “Why?”
AG2: “They’re faster.”
Me: “Uh. Ok. What makes them faster?”
AG2: “Well, they are 2.6 times faster!”
Me: “You’re kidding, right? Guess you guys both watch the same commercial (smiling). Look. Video rendering takes place on the GPU, not the CPU. The number of cores directly affects the rendering time. More cores equates to more divisions of labor. More equals better. All I need to know is the number of cores on each GPU, the amount of dedicated RAM, and ideally, the bus speed between the GPU and the Southbridge, the I/O controller which is pulling data off the drive. Do you, or do you not have this level of technical knowledge of your computers.”
AG2: “I am sorry sir, but maybe you can find that information on the Apple Store.”
Me: “No, it’s not there. But I am certain Nvidia’s website has it. Thanks.”

Of course, Nvidia’s website has all that I needed. But sometimes, it is just nice to talk to a human being. Unless of course, that human being knows very little about the product in question.

—————–

Just yesterday. I purchased a new 27″ iMac for a client and a 15″ MacBook Pro for myself (having learned all that I need to know about the GPUs from 3rd party websites). At my client’s site, I needed to rebuild 5 Macs in an afternoon, to stay on schedule.

I spent an hour at the Apple Store here in Boise, and while I thoroughly enjoyed my conversation with one of the employees, I purchased at BestBuy across the street as they gave me a $100 discount for purchasing more than $4000 in a single day.

But here is the difference: at Apple, the employees tend to know ONLY about Apple. They can talk about iPhones, iPads, and all the apps for hours, but mention any third party vendors, hardware or software, and for the most part, they haven’t a clue. At BestBuy, the geeks are well-rounded, having dabbled in Windows and Linux, routers and RAID boxes, home theater systems–the works. They have not drunk just one flavor of Koolaide, rather, they have knowledge that bridges the gaps and in the end, I learn something from their employees as frequently as I teach. At Apple, however, I walk away every time with the employees shaking my hand, telling me they learned something about Apple hardware they never knew.

Yesterday afternoon I purchased a USB stick with a pre-installed version of OSX Lion as I was swapping / upgrading drives between the five systems I mentioned above. Yes, I could have managed a daisy chain of external drives installed using the emergency boot partition, but it would take far, far longer than a DVD or USB install.

However, the USB stick would not boot the 15″ MacBook Pro I just purchased, the latest version (sans Retina). I called the Store and explained that it is not booting, and likely is not the newest version of Lion.

AG3: “Oh, that’s not possible. Lion supports all the systems we have.”
Me: “With all due respect ma’am, it is impossible for an OS to forward support new hardware if there are any changes to the on-board components. It simply does not work that way. The USB stick you sold to me supports 4 machines at this site, but not the one I purchased today. It is obvious that it is not the latest Lion. I therefore ask that you look around to see if you have a new build.”
AG3: “Have you called Apple Tech Support?”
Me: “No. I don’t need Apple Tech Support to insert a USB stick and press the power button. A grey circle with a line through it is pretty obvious. It doesn’t work.”
AG3: “Did you upgrade the drive?”
Me: “Yes. But that –”
AG3: “Oh! We can’t support your system if you change the drive. Please reinstall the original drive and–”
Me: “The drive has nothing to do with it. Seriously. The boot order built into the firmware is USB, CD, then internal drive. I have a machine here that has NO DRIVE at all, and it boots from the USB stick perfectly.”
(pause)
AG3: “Oh. Well, you need to call Tech Support.”
Me: (slightly raised voice) “Look. I spent $4000 today on Apple hardware. I have been screwing around with this mess for more than three hours BEFORE I called, to make certain I was not wasting your time. I zapped the PRAM. I unplugged the units. I tested both with original and new drives. I want to come in to your store and make it perfectly clear that the version of OSX on the USB stick is too old.”
AG3: “Ok … let me see … yes, we have a slot at 9 am tomorrow.”

Of course, the lead Genius confirmed that the build was old, but he had no way of determining the build version and did not know if any of the USB sticks in-store were the current version. And so I was forced to do a daisy chain of restores to get my new 15″ running on a Seagate hybrid drive.

Again, lack of knowledge or perhaps, an attempt at making everything so simple (by not labeling the USB sticks with version numbers), my experience was far more complex than necessary.

To Apple’s benefit, their employees are consistently friendly, truly enthusiastic about their product line, and doing their best to serve you. I also recognize that Apple’s entire goal is to make the hardware completely transparent to the user such that the software is their #1 focus in training.

Makes sense … mostly.

By Kai Staats|2017-04-10T11:17:41-04:00June 21st, 2012|Critical Thinker, Humans & Technology|0 Comments

A Study in Motion

Of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water
A compilation of a number of video sequences I shot this spring and early summer, each is a study in motion, a way of looking at how things move from a different point of view.

In the opening sequence, I want the person who would otherwise be in motion to be stationary, forcing the viewer to notice the motion behind and around that person.

In the second sequence (me running) I presented my body in motion. This is in direct contrast to the previous sequence. Yes, we watch runners or run ourselves, but take note of the way in which feet impact the ground and how a body reacts to impact. There are implied, invisible forces of motion working to counter gravity.

This is, for me, when running feels like flying and anything is possible.

The closing sequences (ocean, lava) are in and of themselves in sharp contrast to each other as well as to the opening two. The ocean is the only sequence maintained in real-time while the speed of the lava flow is increased by a factor of 10x to give life to its molten form.

The moon and clouds on Mauna Kea were used as transitional pieces.

All combined, I have touched upon the four elements: earth, air, fire, and water.

In order of appearance:

Downtown Phoenix, Arizona: D’Metra Macedon (thank you D’!)
South Mountain Park, Phoenix, Arizona: Kai Staats
Moon over the Mauna Kea Visitors Center (~9,000 ft), Big Island, Hawaii
Clouds forming over four of the many Mauna Kea Observatories (~13,800 ft), Big Island, Hawaii
Pu`uhonua o Honaunau National Historical Park
Hawaii Volcanoes National Park

By Kai Staats|2017-04-10T11:17:41-04:00June 15th, 2012|Film & Video|1 Comment

Computer Memory: 1982 – 2012

I am just down the road from Volcanoes National Park, my second to last day on the Big Island, copying 1080p footage from the local favorite snorkeling spot “Two Step” on the West coast.

It occurred to me that the 9GB of video I shot in roughly an hour and a half of walking the coast line at Pu`uhonua o Honaunau National Historical Park is significantly more than, what I guessed to be several thousand copies of my first computer, a Commodore 64.

So I ran the numbers: 1GB / 64KB = 15,625. My 13″ MacBook Pro has 8GB of RAM, or 125,000 C-64 computers. Furthermore, my internal 750GB Seagate hybrid drive is equivalent to 4,411,764 standard issue 170KB floppy discs from the early 1980s (this is before the higher density 1.4MB floppies were introduced).

Astounding.

I need to get back to work on editing video from the lava flow and 2 Step, but that causes me to recall the first video edits (“Initial Reebok”) my brother and I conducted, stringing a VCR and Hi-8 camera together, the pause and frame advance buttons the extent of our editing tools. The title sequences generated by the C-64 as it output direct to what was then standard definition video via an RCA cable.

By Kai Staats|2017-04-10T11:17:41-04:00June 13th, 2012|Critical Thinker, Humans & Technology|0 Comments

The Birthplace of Stone, a photo essay

A Photo Essay
I was seeking a hiking partner, someone to accompany me onto the lava flow at the bottom of the Chain of Craters road, Volcanoes National Park, Big Island, Hawai’i. Just outside the Visitor Center main doors, I noted a fit man intensely studying the maps posted on the wall. His fingers traced a path to the current position of the surface flows. I asked if he intended to go there, Jeroen responded, and within a half hour we were off on our adventure.

This is my third time to the Big Island, and my fifth or sixth time onto the active lava flows. It is an experience I recommend for all who desire to witness the birth of stone, but only for those who have the capacity to walk for several miles over some of the most challenging and potentially deadly terrain on Earth. Even a minor fall, a surface abrasion will bleed for hours for the solidified lava is in all respects a form of glass. Jeroen and I are strong hikers, moving at a fast clip, but by the end of our journey we were exhausted, almost stumbling. When we finally returned to our truck, an estimated twelve or fourteen miles later, we laughed at the sensation of pavement beneath our feet again.

Bring 2-3 liters water, food, flashlight with extra batteries, and first aide kit (we depleted Jeroen of his bandages). At night, under a storming sky, you cannot differentiate black rock from black sky from black sea and will need a compass to find your way back again if the beacons are not visible.

Our first effort was to hike to the base of the pali where we could see an obvious plume of white. We arrived at dusk. The sulfur in the air and waves of heat beneath our feet were confirmed as signs of a recent flow when the sun set and we noted a red glow in the cracks all around us.

We headed back toward the Forest Service beacons but a mile in retreat noticed a much larger surface flow over our shoulder, a mile down hill, toward the ocean. Jeroen encouraged us to turn back, and I am pleased we did, for what we discovered was incredible.

While I have been here before, both alone and with friends, I have never experienced the intimacy with the lava that transpired last night. I am not claiming a spiritual experience nor divine intervention, rather, a sort of trance, a call of the heat which drew me in.

In the science fiction film “Sunshine” a space station orbits close to the sun, to observe and to predict. In the station is a viewing port where crew members may dial-in the computer controlled filter of the sun’s intensity. One character experiments with the intensity of the heat, increasing it beyond the recommendation which causes him to gasp for his breath. But he returns for more, increasing the intensity each time. He is more than addicted for he experiences some form of communication which ultimately leads to the film’s (typical Hollywood–disappointing) conclusion.

Last night, I felt something like this. Not a voice of intent, nor an intelligent communication, rather, a challenge, a request to come close, to reach out and touch that which is giving birth to the Earth itself.

In 1991 and again in 2006, I recall the incredible sound made by pressing a stick into the flow, into the belly of the dragon. Once pierced, it hissed and breathed fire and my stick was consumed. Last night, without a stick, I knelt on the ground with my camera just in front of me. I recorded the molten rock which had already traveled miles to arrive where I stood, less than a mile, should gravity give permission, to the edge of the ocean.

As the cooler shell of the lava tore open, it ripped, exposing a red, silver, and black scar which gave way to red, yellow, and white inside. Of its own volition, it moved steadily toward my feet. At twenty feet the heat was that of Phoenix in the summer. At ten feet it was difficult to maintain eye contact. At six feet I had to look down in order that the rim of my hat would shield my face. At three feet my whole body was consumed for I felt I was nearly on fire.

Even now, as I write, I am moved to tears for I do not know now to describe the sensation. I did not want to move. I wanted to stay there and wait for the lava to come to me, to roll over me and envelop my whole body. I wanted to join it on its journey, to move slowly, crackling, tearing, ripping, enveloping everything in its path. I was intoxicated.

When I replay the video I recorded, I hear myself saying, “Oh my god! This is incredible. But it’s so hot … my pants are melting… my legs are burning–oh! My face, it hurts. But just a little closer … just a little more … I can wait, it’s so close now.” And then, out of concern for my camera more than my skin or clothes, I stood, turned, and took a few steps back.

I did this again and again. I could not get enough. I pressed my feet onto the thick skin of the flow, causing it to bulge momentarily, but by no means distracted from its intended course. Only when the camera’s battery died was I awaken from my spell. Jeroen and I needed to start back, our journey far slower by night compounded by the availability of just one headlamp to share, his bulb burnt-out just a few minutes earlier.

How do I explain this? I don’t know. I do not desire to. It is the birthplace of stone and in that place, I desired to be consumed and then reborn.

(video footage of the flowing lava is showcased in A Study in Motion)

By Kai Staats|2017-04-10T11:17:41-04:00June 10th, 2012|From the Road|0 Comments

The Transit of Venus

My Return to the Sun
When I arrived to the Mauna Kea visitor center at nine thousand feet elevation, just after dark, I was surprised to find a dozen vehicles, shuttles, tour buses, and some fifty people wrapped in blankets, winter jackets and caps, huddled around a dozen telescopes focused on Mars, Saturn, and several nebulae.

I learned the Mauna Kea Visitors Center holds a public star party, a viewing session every night of the year, weather permitting. My heart lifted and I was a kid again, eager to interact, share, and learn. I changed from shorts into long pants and added layers in the back of my friend Vitus’ truck. I grabbed my camera and tripod and walked down the side of the road and across the parking lot. I felt like the last guy to arrive to the party, a bit late, but excited to see who was present.

Children, their parents, lone travellers and couples, people of all ages and walks of life. The guides were part- and full-time employees of the National Park, some working three days on, four days off at this incredible site. They were patient, knowledgeable, and intent upon providing a positive experience for all who were present. I was impressed, for hosting a star party every night of the year is analogous to teaching the same class over and over again without opportunity to advance to the next level for none of the students will return the next day. The reward, of course, is the expression on someone’s face who sees the rings of Saturn for the first time, and learning from those who are experts in the field.

While the light of the moon saturated the night sky, Mars and Saturn provided an elegant show, rich in color and image quality. At 10 PM, when the scopes were put away, a half dozen vehicles remained. People like me would spend the night wrapped in a blanket or sleeping bag in order to guarantee a means to the top the next morning.

The next morning the sun rose and it was vibrant. At 6 AM I walked to the top of the wind whipped ridge just West of the Visitors Center. I captured the shadow of Mauna Kea as it moved over the valley floor toward the sea. I could clearly see the summit of Mauna Loa where I had experienced the total solar eclipse in 1991. That was twenty one years ago, but at that moment it felt like yesterday. I recall parts of the three days backpack, just a dozen of fifty who gained permits made it to the top. In the end, of the thousands who came to Hawaii for that event, it was only the amateurs on Mauna Loa and the professionals here on Mauna Kea that witnessed the eclipse for the entire island was covered in a heavy cloud bank just two hours before the transit of the moon across the face of the sun began.

I recall how the moon’s shadow raced across the top of the clouds and the steaming caldera of Mauna Loa. The few birds at this elevation settled down for what they assumed was the night. The air grew cold, quickly. I recall the sensation of that day perfectly, knowing I was in the right place at the right time, and the next forty five minutes impetus for the summer on the island doing biology research with ASU and Stanford University.

Without a digital camera, it would be another month before I knew if I had captured the event on film. Just two rolls dedicated to the eclipse, I bracketed carefully and in the end, the images I captured on my Nikon FE2 with an 80-200 lens were my reward.

There is an energy to astronomy, the oldest of sciences and perhaps the most gratifying, as it brings people of all ages together. I was reminded of last summer at David Levy’s Adirondack Astronomy Retreat, seeing again that astronomers are generous with their time, experience, and gear. They find as much joy in sharing of themselves with the next generation as they do making their own, personal new discoveries.

This morning, I realized I was given a second chance at such an incredible event, but this time from the other side of the valley in the shadow of the world’s most famous observatories. Amateur enthusiasts came from Germany, France, Canada and across the U.S. Some arrived at 5 while others at 8, 10, and into the early afternoon to watch the transit of Venus across the face of the sun. We all shared in our braving temperatures in the low thirties with winds gusting up to 50 MPH. The wind chill presented a harsh dichotomy to this otherwise tropical island.

As I travelled light to the Big Island, I had only my Canon 60D, a macro and 18-135 lens. I came across Carl R. who was kind enough to allow me to borrow his 400mm lens in exchange for the images it produced on my DSLR body with relatively stable tripod (compared to his). He sat by me for more than an hour as I shot stills and video, describing his own personal history with amateur astronomy. As with nearly everyone who looks up and asks how, when, or why, there is a parent or grand parent, or in the case of Christina a great, great, great, great grandfather who had observed the last transit of Venus in 1882. She ventured to the Big Island in order to carry on her grandfather’s tradition, even after a four generation gap. Eric and his mother spent the entire day on top, applying sun screen, eating from their cooler and enjoying conversation. Eric took more than 500 photos through his scope with a Nikon DSLR attached.

This was a very big deal, literally a once in a lifetime event as the next transit will not occur until 2117 and then again in 2125. While some two hundred people came up and went down along the winding road by shuttle, two dozen of us remained in the intensity of the cold air and bold sun for the duration, more than eight hours at nearly fourteen thousand feet.

If given the chance to observe a solar or lunar eclipse or any major astronomical event in the presence of skilled amateurs or professionals, I highly encourage you to do so. Introduce your children to this magical, gratifying science or re-introduce yourself to the joy of being a kid and seeing something spell binding for the first time.

(video footage at the top of Mauna Kea is showcased in A Study in Motion)

By Kai Staats|2024-04-11T23:45:22-04:00June 7th, 2012|From the Road, Looking up!|5 Comments

The phases of our lives
are passing shadows.

Our brilliant, bold heat gives way to a darkness
we fear will never release its hold.

But given time, the light returns
and we do see clearly again.

Wait … it will unfold.

This film explores the darkness invoked by the human propensity for depression, when all options seem to have closed … and the illumination which returns when we find the path beneath our feet again. In its original form, the poem was written to acknowledge the close of a love affair while the sharp fragments of friendship became increasingly painful to embrace.

By Kai Staats|2017-04-10T11:17:41-04:00May 25th, 2012|Film & Video, Looking up!, The Written|0 Comments

Monitor Gray is Reborn

Twenty four years ago I wrote a short story called “Monitor Gray”, followed by “Jon’s Song” and “Sands” four years later. Now, after three months of dedicated work, we are just thirty six hours from shooting the most important scene in a ten minute short film treatment of the same name.

Monitor Gray is reborn.

To learn about the current production, to review the concept art and backstory, to learn about what was happening for me in the years I wrote those short stories, visit www.monitorgray.com

By Kai Staats|2017-04-10T11:17:42-04:00May 12th, 2012|Film & Video|0 Comments

Thoughts from a Moonlit Forest Floor

Prescott National Forest
Saturday evening, just after sunset

I found a quaint little spot up a steep, deeply rutted road. The tires spun to get me here, but on the second go they held. Huge fire pit and ample wood, but crawled in the back of my Subaru instead. In the back of my car, wrapped in a fleece blanket. It feels so much better here, like a fort when I was a kid. The safety of a small, well defined, familiar space.

A cool soft breeze blows across the interior of my car, from the open hatch to the driver side rear window. Children yelling in play at another campsite, just down the road. Gun shots ripple in quick succession from what I hope is some distance. (Later, at half past midnight someone unloaded an automatic gun for what I am guessing was a few dozen rounds.) The echo resounds from the canyon walls, eventually diminishing to a hushed roar. The smell of wood smoke mixes with roasted meat and sulfur.

The national forest was designed and designated for these function: people doing what they please, where they will, with no immediate supervision. Sometimes it scares me, but it is what I cherish most about the American southwest, the sensation of open space even within the confines of well mapped and over used territory.

I love going for hours, even days without hearing my own voice.

It is so grounding for me to walk at dusk or dawn in search of boulders to climb, a block of cheese in hand, carving off pieces to mix with bites of an apple. Apples always taste cool even when they have been in the sun. I never tire of the sound of pine needles beneath my feet. Lately, I walk barefoot even on the trails, my feet growing accustomed to their natural state.

If someone were to tell me I could never again use the Internet, I would smile. If someone were to tell me I would never again venture into a city, hear the sound of a car, eat from a restaurant or enter a crowded bar, I would feel relief. if someone were to tell me I could never write again, I would be horribly sad but take up singing, painting, and playing guitar.

If, however, someone were to tell me I could never again sleep on the ground, under the open sky, I would prefer to die.

By Kai Staats|2017-04-10T11:17:42-04:00April 29th, 2012|From the Road|0 Comments

A Day at the Pool

I took my kid to the public pool yesterday. First day it was open this year. More people than I expected as the water was not quite warm. But once you got in, it was fine. Hot sun. Cool water. Great way to spend the day.

About an hour past noon, from my pool side chair I noticed another kid splashing water in my kid’s face. My boy splashed back, laughing. The other kid’s father noticed and jumped to his feet by the side of the pool, a half dozen chairs down from mine.

“Hey! Leave my kid alone!”

My son was not certain who was being yelled at over the noise of the public pool.

“What do you think you are doing? Don’t be splashing like that! You’re gonna get in trouble,” he added

My son got it this time. He looked at me. I looked at his father who was strapping on a holster and gun over his swimming trunks.

Oh shit. Here we go, I thought.

I called to Tom, “Hey, son, come on out of the pool. He isn’t worth the trouble.”

“What you mean ‘he ain’t worth the trouble’?” his father asked as he turned toward me.

“Hey man. It’s not worth a fight. Just two kids splashing, right?”

“Yeah. It’s worth it. Your kid’s a punk ass.”

“They were just playing. It’s water. It’s what kids do. It doesn’t hurt.”

“It doesn’t hurt? No. Maybe not. But you disrespecting my kid? That hurts.”

He lowered his hand to his hip. Is he going to shoot me? No way. That can’t fucking happen. No way. Not in public.

He took a few steps closer. I could see that he had been drinking and was not in a clear state of mind. Why they let him in with a gun is beyond me. But that’s Arizona law.

I called out, “Tom. Get out of the pool. Let’s go!”

“That’s what I thought. Fucking pussy.”

“Yeah. Suppose so.”

“What’d you say?! Hey! What’d you say to me?!”

He lunged forward, stumbled, and knocked me to my back. He tripped over my prone legs and fell on top of me, his pistol drawn and in his hand. When he put his arm out to brace his fall, the gun went off and there was silence. No one in the pool moved. Then a woman screamed.

“No! No! Oh my God no! My baby! You shot my baby! You shot my baby!” She ran to the edge of the pool and jumped in, screaming hysterically she choked on the water in attempt to find her feet, fully clothed.

The man rolled off me and to his side, looked over me to the pool where red water was mixing with blue. My legs, shoulders, and arms struggled to find purchase while a knot grew on the back of my skull. I could not see clearly but I recognized my son’s voice as he ran up to me, asking if I was ok.

The man pushed him aside, knocking him over as he found his own feet again. He started to realize what had happened, looking at his gun as though he had never seen one before.

Everyone was climbing out of the pool, save two life guards who dove in to pull the girl from the water. Even face down I could see that she didn’t have a chance, dead before she ever had a chance to drown.

The father’s kid was in shock, frozen in disbelief. His father was yelling at him to get his things. His voice rose as it was becoming apparent he intended to leave.

Two other men and one woman pulled guns from their day bags and blankets, warning him to not move. He didn’t listen, grabbed his kid, waved his gun at them and turned to run.

Two more shots were fired. The father fell to his knees. Everyone else lay flat on the concrete, the life guards holding their heads just above water at the edge of the pool, abandoning the girl’s body for their own safety.

The father turned to fire back but was hit a third time in the head. His son came alive again and screamed so loud people looked up from their prone positions, thinking he had been hit too. Tears streamed from his eyes as he ran to his father’s body, holding his bleeding, limp head in his hands.

He looked to my son Tom. I will never forget the look on his face.

It didn’t have to happen this way. There was no real danger and no reason for guns. But it nearly became reality, were it not for the second year vetoed by the governor of Arizona, keeping court houses, senior centers, public buildings and swimming pools free of firearms … for now.

Charles Heller, co-founder and spokesman of Arizona Citizens Defense League, said the group “expected better from someone who was rumored to be an ally of freedom.”

“We wish she would show more respect for Arizona’s constitutional provision about the right to keep and bear arms,” he told Reuters, moments after learning of the veto.

I am not against owning firearms, for hunting is a traditional means by which healthy, natural meat may be placed on the table for those families willing to work a little harder than driving their SUV to the local grocery store. If you feel the need to protect the interior of your home with a gun, it is not my place to dissuade you.

But the intent of this bill makes no sense. Nothing good can possibly come of this law. There is not a single scenario, not a single example in which everyone, anyone being allowed to bring a firearm into a public arena makes sense.

To defend the Second Amendment for the sake of defense alone is to tell the parents of the children and the children of the parents in a story not unlike that which I have imagined, that the Constitutional Right, written two hundred years ago in a very different time, is more important then the lives of those who will die.

By Kai Staats|2017-04-10T11:17:42-04:00April 17th, 2012|Out of America|0 Comments

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