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Yesterday I bought a gun.
And it nearly killed me.
We live in a second amendment household. My life partner has a gun. Nothing too spectacular, a handgun. For personal protection. It doesn’t look significant but she assures me the 357 bullets she never loads into the gun she keeps in the safe, would do wicket damage.
Although she claims she would pull the trigger, once she unlocks the safe and finds the bullets, we both know she would probably just throw it at an extremely surprised would-be intruder and yell BANG!
I realize I have had a privileged childhood. I grew up in a house of books and academics where I had to look up the definition of hate in an encyclopedia. I had so many people of different … everything pass through the house that I always saw people. Not races or nationalities or differences but a representation of humanity so awesome that I could never imagine shooting at anyone.
My introduction to guns was via “Lone Ranger” and “Bonanza” and when I got old enough to realize who was on the other side of those Colts I never played Cowboys-and-Indians again.
On Thursday, as he likes to do when he has a particularly abhorrant message to deliver, the President of the United States called into a talk-show host named Hannity, to discuss, among other things, law and order. This is from the transcript…
