Daily Archives: February 28, 2011


I own guns.


I said it.

Not a lot- a coupla rifles and a pistol grip 12-gauge. I don’t have any problem with guns or with people owning guns or with people carrying guns concealed or otherwise. Shooting guns is FUN. If you’ve never done it, try it. Honest.

I’m not one of those people that believe if you get rid of guns you’ll get rid of senseless killings. Setting aside the extremely random shoot-em-ups, people will find a way to kill one another if they really want to, whether it be by bullet or knife or baseball bat or rock.

Nor am I one of those people that believe that if we don’t have guns the wurrrrlllddds guuuunna ennnnndddd.

I just think playing with guns is like gay marriage or abortion or breast implants. If you’re an adult and you wanna do it and you’re not hurting anyone else, fucking do it and please, oh please, can’t we just STOP talking about it? (I can’t wait to see the e-mails I get ’cause I just compared guns to breast implants)

So I was surprised by my reaction to something that happened on Sunday.

I’m down on the Island, working on the doggy dreamhouse, and I’m ferrying shit up the ladder from MR.GREENE. when I see two little kids standing huddled at the end of our dock looking like little kids do when they feel like they’ve been caught doing something wrong.

They’re practically standing on top of the NO TRESPASSING sign we have on the dock that Miss Carol and me hope’ll litigiously protect us were anyone to get on the dock and get hurt. I don’t really care who uses the dock as long as they don’t set in on fire or something.

So I wave to the kids to let ’em everythings fine and I’m cool with it and I go up the ladder with another load and when I come back down the two boys are walking across the lot towards the road. Just walking and talking and cutting up and looking like kids everywhere.

Except they’re both packin’ shotguns.

These boys couldn’t have been more than 10 or 12 years old and they were carrying those big ‘ole guns the way a mechanic carries a wrench. Nonchalantly bleah.

Initially? I was shocked. And even though I have no problem with ’em, they’ve been portrayed for soooooo long as things sooooooo inherently evil that to see them outside of a TV show or a movie is, I don’t know, unsettling? Guns, I mean, not little boys.

But as I watched those kids walk up the street I had to marvel at where I’m at geographically and where we’re at societally. I mean, can you imagine an urban metrosexual coming down here and seeing two little boys openly packin’ heat?

I let my mind run around in it for a little bit and then just shrugged and went back to humpin’ materials up the ladder.

Dorothy, we’re not in Kansas anymore.