First off, I went dancing last night. Reggae. One love. One “extra” drink, plenty of irie and not enough sleep.
This morning, I got up and went to a hand gun class.
The teacher, he was a sweet guy, despite my concerns that I might be shooting guns today with a Donald Trump fan or something. Thankfully, he did not exude this particular vibe, though he is an ex-cop and when I facebook-stalked him, the first thing I noticed was a meme that stated he was proud to be white, Christian, straight, and pro-gun rights.
i am none of these.
well, honestly… to be fair, i feel the same way about guns as I do about vaccines. They have their benefits, and i don’t trust either of them enough.
nonetheless, i, along with a couple of college girls, plenty of north county cowgirls and an older lady with lesbian shoes and a gruff voice showed up for the ladies’ handgun class today.
we went around in a circle. After everyone except the lady in lesbian shoes (who said she lived in a bad area and that people threw stuff in her yard all the time, so if she ever went out there and found a gun, she wanted to know how to pick it up – yes, truly) claimed they were there because they wanted more “protection”, he got to me.
There’s that thing in me that wants to know what I’m up against. It’s the peace seeker in me. Know thy enemy and you find common ground.
there’s a big part of me that deeply believes in magic. I believe in peace, and I believe in pacifism. But I am not meek. Humble, yes. Meek? No. I can only turn the other cheek for so long before “LOOK, MOTHERFUCKER, ENOUGH OF THIS SHIT, GET OFF MY GODDAMN LAWN” kicks in. I want to be the one willing to offer a place at my table of abundance and peace…
but on the same token – there are people who go wrong. There are people who will hurt you. Do i increase my chances of encountering one of these people should I bring a gun into my periphery? If I truly believe the way I do about the universe, this is highly possible. Common sense dictates the possibility, really – with a gun, I may take myself places I might not have gone before, too.
it remains to be seen whether that is courage or stupidity. these things often get mistaken for each other. But I know what I’m up against now. I answered some questions and now I have more.
i guess it’s not all that coincidental, either, that something happened to my shoulder yesterday as I reached over to the passenger seat of the car to grab something. The pain was so searing that it made my eyeballs roll back into my head. It hurt badly all night and today and it still hurts as I write this 24 hours later, though not nearly as bad.
It hurt to hold the gun up and shoot.
One the other hand, if completely avoiding good ole boy mansmirk at a shooting range were made possible, I know I would enjoy target practice. I would warm up with a semi-automatic because after today I found them easy – but I hated the way they looked. They were ugly and mechanical, angular and monochrome. They didn’t hide their awful truth.
A little stubby 38 special revolver was what stole my heart in the end. It brought the romance back into it all, the idea that a lady merely needed to show possession of said accessory in order to shut a man up and move through. Wild West style and all that.
The romance was short-lived, however, and for that I am extraordinarily grateful. I’m glad to now know how to operate one, and I hope the time never comes that I feel I need to.