Broken-Hearted

It's been so difficult to watch the news coverage of the survivors speaking about the Vegas massacre.

Friends losing friends, wives losing husbands, boyfriends losing girlfriends...

...and thankfully the news is concentrating on those lives that were cut short, and sparing us some of the details of the madman who did this.

It's all so heartbreaking.

And the people who survived, talking about ducking and running for cover.

There's really no way to fully comprehend all of it, but I must admit that when I saw U2 last month, I actually considered something of the sort happening. It crossed my mind when I sat down and looked around.

Sitting ducks.

"Nothing you can do," a guy on one of the jobs said. "He planned it for months and months, had it all worked out. When evil plots, there's no stopping it because none of us can conceive that someone would do such a thing."

He had a point.

"There has to be something we can do!" I said.

Wayne Newton was interviewed.

"I pray that there are no copy cats out there," he said.

Why did he bring that up?

But I must admit, that this time it's all a little different for me.

Hearing the heroic stories isn't helping.

Listening to hypocrites offer thoughts and prayers isn't comforting me.

All the "warmest condolences" mean zip to me.

Because we are smart enough to figure this out.

We have to be.

"Sir, I guess there's just a meanness in this world."

Those words were uttered by Charles Starkweather years ago after he grabbed his girlfriend and went on a murderous rampage through Nebraska.

They had asked him why he did what he did.

Yet I can't imagine the heartbreak involved with losing a loved one in such a manner.

All so damn senseless.

Happy one minute...

...listening to music...

...having a beer...

...and then gone!

Because there's a meanness...

...and either we're too dumb, or we don't care enough

To stop it.

Heartbreaking

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