Got me a thinkin' about..... guns?

Quinn's blog got me thinking about a little rant of my own, and since Anika is taking a morning nap (miracle), let me step upon my soap box.

"Arm Yourselves and FREE TIBET" was something my Dad came up with and fantasized about putting it on his truck in Telluride, where there are plenty of "Free Tibet" stickers, accompanied by just as many drum circles. My Dad certainly did not fit in in Telluride... a liberal hotspot of mostly East-Coast transplants and trust-fund babies. In the words of Edward Abbey "the air is thick with flying frisbees and the smell of cannibas sativa". "To-hell-you-ride", he called it. I was only 17 when I first read those famous Abbey words, and I hadn't even been there... "Mommy, isn't that where Daddy lives?" Yes, these are the people you see in the Patagonia catalog "administering relief" to some obscure country in their $400 recycled fleece jacket. "Trustafarians", my Dad called them. He was full of funny sayings, and also charm... which is how he managed to share a Telluride wife with his bookshelf of Ann Coulter books (yes, the lady with the adam's apple), and was practically mayor... sharing guns with the Prince of Jordan, and fly rods with Norman Schwartzkoff! I just think my Dad is great, can you tell? I worship him. He was the type of charm and intelligence that could earn the spotlight in any social situation, like a Queen's ball perhaps? Meet my Dad, the "drag-ass surveyor with sand in his blood"....





I tend to get way off the subject.

The other day we stopped at the Veyo store for one of those delicious pies, when in walks something you only see in "these parts". He was leathery. I know that. But my eyes were only drawn to his giant "NRA" belt buckle. I had to try not to laugh because I was thinking about something my brother-in-law Mike said last week. Mike is so witty and full of one-liners. We were talking about moving to the beach and I said I don't think I could because I am scared of tsunamis. I said "I think I only feel safe in the middle of the country." Mike replied, "Where all the guns are?" I am still laughing! Mike is so funny. You have just got to love MIDDLE AMERICA!

ANYWAY, if you are at all interested in gun rights, let me recommend a read for you. Check out THIS book. I've actually met this guy... as he dealt with our "little sitch" in Telluride, but had read his book a few years earlier, so I secretly wanted his autograph. I'm anything but politically active, but agree with a lot of his social theories... he is a big shot with the Libertarian Party. So, we've finally made it to my rant: If we take away guns, the criminals will still have them. It's the same thing with the prohibition of alcohol and drugs. Then, as if we don't have enough crime, we will have illegal weapon trafficking to deal with! Plus, since I obey the law, I will not be able to own a gun to protect myself. I do, however, think it is way too easy to get a gun. I could drive our truck to Wal-Mart right now and practically tell them to "fill 'er up". I like target shooting and the elk-hunt as much as the next gal, BUT, it needs to be WAY HARDER to get a gun. Please just don't anyone ever tell me that I don't have the right to one! Just imagine if you had a stalker. If I feel threatened in any way, you better bet your bippy I want the right to have a weapon.

Case in point: Brandon was gone to Boulder Mountain for a week and I was home alone. I'll admit, I'm a little paranoid, but one morning I was absolutely positive there was someone in my house. I swear I even saw a shadow under my door. In my mind at the time, there INDEED was someone in my house. I locked myself in the bathroom and tried to figure out what to do. Being the paranoid and overly-cautious girl that I am, I already had a 10-round loaded clip waiting for me beside the rifle my Dad gave me. I also had some mace in the bathroom drawer, but that definitely wasn't going to cut it. So... out I come.... A) In my underwear, B) with my heart pounding out of my chest, and C) with a loaded rifle. I searched the whole house, sure I was going to die, all the while yearning for something more convenient... like a .45 with hollow points. I asked my Dad once, "why hollow points?" He said, "That's so you don't have to call 911.) So, I'm a little jumpy? There was no intruder but I slept the next two nights with a loaded gun under my bed.

Moral of the story: Don't ever come into my house unannounced, especially sneakily, you will probably be shot. So sorry! "An armed society is a polite society." -Robert A. Henlein.

I do, though, have a problem with people's ignorance of gun safety. When you get a hunting license you have to go on the "field trip" where they see you shoot, and how you handle your business. And that's just to shoot some feathers! I worry a lot about how people store their guns, and where? And here in middle America, boy have people got guns! The ignorance of gun safety is as annoying and prevalent as the ignorance of child-seat safety. Please, if you are going to handle something as dangerous as a firearm or a toddler, learn how to use it.