Don't Play with Guns

Being an American citizen means that you have a right to bear arms. Not bare arms, the constitution says nothing about the right to wear tank tops or sleeveless t-shirts. Weird coincidence since those two rarely are seen without the other down south. This is an important right because people have the right to protect themselves and to hunt if they choose. You never know when you are going to see a deer and want to shoot it with an assault rifle or sawed off shotgun.

This post is not about the legality, morality, or ethics of firearms. This is about the fatality, mortality, and probability of both in the hands of a Jorgensen. When I was growing up my dad always had a pistol and a rifle. I don't think he had bullets for the pistol, although I do remember holding it as a kid and thinking about how cool it was. Looking back, I am really hoping he didn't have bullets. Probably should have had that locked up either way.

Dad is a terrible shot. If he was ever trying to shoot me I think I would just stand still and wait for him to run out of bullets. I remember we had a woodchuck trapped in mom's garden one time, and dad went and got his rifle to shoot it. (We lived in town at that time, so I don't know how legal this was. What the hell thought, we are Americans, and Republicans. I am sure it was ok.) When dad got back, the woodchuck was being held in place in a corner, trapped against the fence with a rake. Dad shot from about 2 feet away. He missed. I think he shot four times before the woodchuck died. At that point, the woodchuck could not chuck wood.

Another time when we lived on the farm there was a dog that kept coming onto the property and pissing dad off. He decided to scare it off the property by shooting over it's head. He was a good 100 yards away when he fired that warning shot... directly into the dogs head. It died, dad shoveled, and the dog no longer bothered anyone.

My mom on the other hand is more accurate, on accident. When mom and dad were moving into an old farm house before your Uncle Gabe and I were born they found a gun in the basement. Mom was cleaning up so she moved it. She also pulled the trigger on accident. So as the gun bang echoed off the walls she looked across the room at the china hutch she had shot, and at the now white Mother-in-law who was almost shot in the head.

So let's summarize. Guns are legal. Guns are a fundamental right. Please don't buy a gun because you are genetically predisposed to have no aim and sketchy handling technique.