I truly believe gun control — whether politically touted or privately discussed — is one of the most derisive, emotionally charged topics in America. I believe it’s because when the conversation comes up (and it ultimately does) we talk about people dying.
We draw up memories of helpless school children trapped in killing zones known as schools. We speak of party goers who just wanted to spend some time drinking and dancing bleeding out on a dance floor. We mention a whack job with a bevy of assault rifles and bump stocks raining death upon unsuspecting concert goers or that I-am-the-Joker fruitcake killing innocent people in a theater.
We talk about needless, pointless, should-never-have-happened death and the weapons used by lunatics.
We feel it, the despair and the anger and the pain and we ask ourselves what in the hell we should do to stop it. Ultimately the answer swings around to bans. Ban assault weapons, ban high capacity magazines, ban bump stocks, ban pistols, ban rifles, ban shotguns, ban everything.
Okay, I hear you and I understand where you’re coming from. First, let’s make sure we’re on the same page.
I legally own guns, some of which are assault rifles, some of which are pistols.
And so does my wife. In fact, for three and a half years she trained to be a sniper.
Trust me folks I don’t ever piss the woman off!
For several decades we’ve owned and fired guns. We’ve never killed anybody and we’ve never pointed our weapons at anything other than paper targets at the range or food on the hoof we intend to eat.
We own guns because we love to shoot (at the range, at paper targets) not because we love to kill.