Letters to Holly

Wednesday, March 11

Disarming

When we visited Mom Saturday, she told us she was going practice shooting with a neighbor. She took my uncle's gun after he died. She may have shot a gun once before. She said she was told that ammo is so hard to come by because people are stocking up in preparation of a suspected gun ban from Obama. I've heard this stockpiling story since November when he won the election. It's a common rumor; the same fear emerged after Clinton was elected. The local gun stores are running newspaper ads offering to buy guns, much like the ubiquitous TV ads offering market value for gold jewelry. I tried to tell Mom the whole thing is hooey cooked up by gun dealers and radio hosts. She again mentioned the dearth of ammo. I reminded her we're fighting two wars. Our supply is going elsewhere.

Since then, we've heard of Sunday's church shooting in Illinois, yesterday's Alabama shooting spree, and today's German school shooting. I appreciate the second amendment for basic gun rights. Hunters need guns. People protecting their homes need guns. No one needs an automatic rifle. No one needs more than two guns (one upstairs, one downstairs for robberies; an optional handgun when hunting). Of course, nothing can stop a determined crazy person. But we can make it harder for them to rack up a body count when they snap. Maybe the recent news can emphasize a need to reform gun control.

I admit, I've thought of owning a gun recently. I live in exactly the kind of small town that encourages the "gun culture" -- a loaded term I admit -- and, every single day, I fear a shooting spree at her school. I also find myself living next to a highway patrolmen, and I think this will discourage robbers. Your Sister can always throw a cat at a burglar, and the claws will ruin him if the ungodly feline weight doesn't crush his brain bones.

Your Sis made a blonde chili for din-din, and it was good. I didn't grow up a chili fan. More specifically, I was raised on canned chili, which is really ground meat in grease. This was much nicer. I also ran for the second time in three days in this perfect weather.

My next art project will be a one-page noir story. It started as a shared joke with the missus, and I wrote the script in the shower. I knew installing the typewriter there would come in handy.

Picture of the Day
Best blanket ever.

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