Chuck -- our head writer. Back in the late 1960's, after returning from service in Vietnam, Chuck became a head. Now he's just our head writer.
The last week or two, my local newspaper’s Letters to the Editor section included missives from citizens concerned about the federal government banning firearms sometime in the near future.
The authors of these letters, obvious knuckle-draggers, haven’t a clue.
I mean, think about it, folks. Can one even imagine what would happen should there come a ban on firearms? I can.
The Mexicans and the Canadians would quickly take to gun running. The failures of our much touted “War on Drugs” shows just how porous our borders are to these two countries. There’s hundreds of millions of dollars spent every year in the U.S. on firearms. You can bet the Mexicans and Canadians aren’t going to pass up on such an opportunity.
And our fellow Americans –- can one even imagine the energy and creativity exercised by those handy individuals who might be inclined to manufacture firearms in their basements or garages? Instead of just a few gun manufacturers in the U.S., there’d be hundreds.
The Chinese, Russians, Eastern Europeans and others would have freighters laying up off our coasts, transshipping cheap Chinese AK-47s, surplus Russian SKS carbines, beautifully crafted Czech 9mm pistols, and more to swift and agile cigarette boats. Said cigarette boat’s nocturnal trips in to secluded U.S. beaches would easily overwhelm our already under-funded Coast Guard.
Instead of every town of any size having a gun store, every neighborhood would have a gun store, most likely in the basement of some local business. One could gain entrance by announcing to the doorway intercom, “Joe sent me.”
Once admitted, one could then rub elbows with the city’s finest: no doubt the mayor, city council members, the police chief, pastors, educators, business people; all, now willing lawbreakers.
Female fashion would include the latest in flashy, chrome plated, small caliber, Italian automatics. Carried in the purse, or secured by thigh-holsters (under dresses) or in bras; such would become de rigueur.
One couldn’t go to a bar or a party or a football game or whatever without some portly, middle-aged, pompous buffoon lifting his shirt, publicly showing off and bragging about the size of the pistol stuffed in his waistband.
Teenagers would buy guns. At parties, they’d pass their guns around for all to admire. No expense or effort would be spared in order to acquire the flashiest, trendiest firearm currently available. Teen crime would mushroom, given the desire to purchase ever more expensive, status making firearms.
And can one even begin to imagine the windfall enjoyed by organized crime? Pretty much relegated to the back-burner the last few decades, organized crime would enjoy an era not seen since prohibition.
And imagine you’re driving around in one of the more seedy neighborhoods of your city. You stop at a traffic light. From the darkened doorway of a nearby, shuttered business, a Young man trots out to your car. He taps on the side window.
You lower the window –- just a little –- not too far now. You’ve gotta be careful in this neighborhood.
“Hey ,” says the young feller through the gap above the window. “You lookin’ for a piece?”
It’s an awkward situation. You’re embarrassed a bit. You clear your throat, then ask, “Ah… I… I don’t know. What exactly are you referring to?”
The young man backs up a step, opens both flaps of his coat. Hanging inside the coat are near a dozen different makes, models and calibers of revolvers and automatic pistols.
The young man says, “Believe me; these baby’s will do anything you want. And they’re cheap, too.”
Suddenly, another young man runs up, confronts the first young man. "This here’s my spot. What are you doing?
The first young backs up a step. The second young man reaches into his coat, takes out a 9mm.
“This one’s really something,” he announces, proudly turning the pistol around so you can see all its features. “All you gotta do is barely touch her trigger, an’ she’ll go off. She’s really something. Whattaya say? Only 300 bucks an’ you can have her.”
You become scared. Even though the light had gone green, then back to red again, you floor it, roar down the street a couple blocks to another red light.
While you’re nervously awaiting the green light, yet another young man taps at the window…
But, before we finish here, I will say this: To those of you who are afraid of the feds banning firearms –- you should be so lucky. Nothing would spread the possession of firearms more than such a ban. Get a life! Don’t you think we’ve got enough else to worry about! The way this ol' world's agoin', we're all going to be packin'!!!
To those of you who would like to see firearms banned, I say, “Do it! I dare you! C’mon, what are you afraid of? Do it!” Given the gist of the above article, I’d love to see it. (a sneer and a snicker to you)
Gardyloo! My friends. Gardyloo!
C.E. Gee
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