Friday, June 27, 2008

Happiness is a Warm Gun

Happiness is a Warm Gun


Yes it is.


Well, it's done. The SCOTUS has gunned down DC's ban on gun ownership under constitutional grounds. Bang!


This is the first major SCOTUS ruling on the Second Amendment. The argument?


DC claimed that the Second Amendment was meant to maintain militias. Everyone else claimed that there was no such thing, that it applies to everyone.


The pro gun lobby is ecstatic. The anti-gun lobby is shitting a brick.


The common DC folks are wondering when the first gun stores are opening, and what kind of bullshit law they have ready to try to offset this ruling.


Across the river, here in Virginia, business is as usual. We have had Fairfax County Police question citizens that are openly carrying firearms, which is something that is not regulated by Virginia law. The only thing Virginia law dictates is rules for concealed carry and areas where it is unlawful to carry a firearm. These incidents are an embarrassment for the Police because it shows a lack of training on the laws that they are expected to enforce.


What about my household?


My late father was a policeman for over 30 years. I lived at home until 18 and visited from college almost every weekend until I was 21. During that time my father never had to lock his service revolver (mostly snub-nose .38 Specials, last one was a 4" .357).


Why?


He was not worried that we would even look at it. If we did, and did not end up killing ourselves with it, we would get the Mother of All Beatings. As far as I can remember, it was even rare to see him cleaning it if we were around.


After that, I enlisted in the US Army, where I was taught how to kill with an M-16A1 rifle and how to run around with it loaded without killing either myself or one of my squad mates. The training was not particularly fun, but it worked, so it was very rare to see somebody do something stupid in a firing range. I think most of the people that got hurt in firing ranges back then (1992 or so) was from falling into the permanent foxholes in the firing ranges. The foxholes are lined with thick wood, so if you don't break your back or both of your legs, you will still stand a good chance to break your neck or arms on the way down.


Here I would love to have a couple of rifles, but PJ is just too much a challenge when it comes to locking things. If I wanted to own a couple of rifles I would have to find a proper secure location offsite, which means spending money just to own the damn things. It's not worth it. If he wasn't autistic I could try to get him enrolled in a firearms course for children as soon as he met the age requirement, his mother be damned.



1 comments:

Anonymous said...

It's good to hear you say that about your father. Mine was the same way. I knew, KNEW, that if I got caught messing with his guns my ass would still be sore from the beating.

I could shoot them any time i asked but the thought of touching them without permission was not an option.