It's always

  everything we hate to become.  War mode.

  That's why a focus on defense is the first best option.  Our sports coaches in Catholic school realized we all cared about each other too much to be effectively winning.  They had to make us competitive step by step.  Not glossing over each person's stumbling blocks to "progress"....we had no shortage of difference in relationship to competition.  But to not be competitive was getting our asses kicked and in the 1970's that had degrees of severity up to and including death.

  Plus, depending on where we were living there were also degrees of brutality kind of built in.  Being a traveler amongst "friends" I witnessed quite the range of life.  And then as world events happened and our "normal" level of "security" changed....a bunch to impact zone, many overseas, some without "men", summer crowds in for the beach weather....duties in the homeland fell to citizens.

  One day our neighborhood close to major travel routes (including international travel) was barraged by loophole druggies.  It was an awful day to witness.  Citizens had been training for all kinds of service work and we had to snap into action again.  It's overwhelming to tell whole story....years and years of beseiged by criminality.  That one afternoon had people steeped in training but without firearms at that one point in budget decision-making clubbing people.  And a lot of the people had been dumped off.  Had been "frankensteined".  Their organs had been taken.  Arms and legs had been taken and replaced with hastily sewn into clothing props and weapons.  Some were like robots as "fiends".  Frontlines.  Infiltrated.  People killing people in suburban driveways with yard tools and snow shovels.

  Because we'd fallen behind as a nation on crime we had to go region by region on the getting safe.

  I'll never forget the night our mom got a phone call warning: KARTOUSH

  She put on stripped socks and sneakers with her cut off jean shorts not yet hemmed, slung binoculars around her neck, popped the rest of a peanut butter sandwich in her mouth, and headed outside for her turn, WATCH.

  Sure enough before our neighborhood watch could pinpoint the arms and get the tank situated a pop and a whoosh and a hit.  Our neighbor's house.

  'It's always all connected.'