Non-Sequitur

The Golf Virus
Something happens to a certain percentage of men my age. Ordinary beer drinking, football watching dudes get infected with a very specific virus that makes them behave very peculiar. Regular guys go out and buy ridiculous shorts and stupid hats and spend inordinate amounts of time playing golf.

When the virus takes hold these men, they start planning on ways to get time on the golf course. I have known guys who wake up before 5AM on work days to get in 18 holes before work. I have seen dudes bring putters into their offices. I have been in meetings that have seemingly gone on forever and had someone declare a bathroom break. While everyone will usually stand up and stretch a bit, infected men will do golf swings with phantom clubs. I am pretty sure they are not even aware that they are doing it.

Scottsdale, Arizona is home to some of the best golf courses in the world. My high school was integrated - taking kids born with silver spoons in their mouths from Scottsdale and punks like me from the wrong side of Scottsdale Road in North Phoenix. I used to skateboard near the Scottsdale Princess. Golf should have been something I aspired to play, but I’ll be honest and say I don’t get it.

It’s not from a lack of exposure or even a lack of effort on my part. I have guys infected with the virus try to teach me the game. An ex-roommate who stood 5’8 and 135 pounds dripping wet had a beautiful drive and could knock a ball 300 yards without even trying. Under his expert tutelage, with all my size, I have managed my best drive of ⅓ that distance.

Maybe I’m secretly jealous and wish the virus could take hold in me. The guys who carry the virus seem to really love it. Their friends love it. It helps them do business with other infected guys. My life might improve if I could somehow make myself give a shit about the game of golf.

And now for something completely different...

The Mongrel Horde
Athletes and entrepreneurs often talk about “growing up hungry.” If this were a recipe for success, I should be a lot more successful because I can remember a phase of my life when the only real feeling I felt was hunger. In one year, I grew nearly six inches. Over the next two years, I filled out putting on eighty pounds. That kind of growth spurt required a lot of food.

I want to be clear, I had really good parents who did their best to take care of me. Part of the problem was an order of magnitude error my mom used to make when purchasing food. We would go to the Price Club (before it was bought by Costco) together and she would pick up a twelve pack of Bagel Dogs.

My mom had no understanding of what it was like to be a teenage boy in the midst of a crazy, fluky growth spurt. In her mind, she would think, “Twelve bagel dogs... If Evan eats one bagel dog per day and then skips a couple of days in there because he gets tired of them, that ought to last two weeks.”

In my mind, I would think, “If I eat four of these bad boys a day, this ought to last three days.”

This order of magnitude misunderstanding combined with the Mongrel Horde was what left me hungry. On a regular basis, we had this conversation.

“Mom, there is nothing to eat in this house!”

“How could there be nothing to eat? We just went to the Price Club.”

“Look around! There’s no food in the closet or in the fridge.”

I would get in a crazy agitated state and beg my mom to take me to the Price Club. Since both my parents worked, when my begging came to a fevered pitch, she would cave and take me on the weekend. We would walk around the aisles and I would sample everything offered filling the cart with the food containing the worst nutritional content possible. Bagel Dogs. Tacitos. Egg Rolls. Insane amounts of money would be spent, but on the ride home I would be happy.

It was only when the groceries were being put away that my contentment turned to fear. Not far from my house, I had a friend who could seemingly sense a disturbance in the Force. I’m not naming names, but his name did rhyme with Sick Loogie. I knew my precious Price Club food was in danger from Sick.

Like clockwork, the next day, the phone would ring after school. Sick would declare that he was rallying the troops to go skate at Sereno Park. Time after time, I tried in vain to prevent the Mongrel Horde from taking my stuff. First I’d try to keep them away from my house.

“Cool, dude. I’ll meet you there.”

“Nah, man, you live two blocks away. We’ll all meet at your house and then go over together.”

When that failed, and I’m ashamed to admit this, I tried to redirect the Horde.

“Why don’t we go to Doug’s instead. We haven’t skated at Doug’s house in a long time.”

Come to think of it, I don’t know why we ever left Doug’s house. For starters, he had a freaking well made half-pipe in the back yard. He also lived really close to the Price Club and his mom never seemed to mind stocking up on food for her son and all of his idiot friends.

I was shocked the first time I ever went into Doug’s freezer. I put two tacitos daintily onto a Dixie plate and pulled them out of the microwave. Doug’s saint of a mother took one look at my tiny serving and smiled. “Honey, you can have more if you like.” She really didn’t mind! From that moment on, it was game on at Doug’s house. I was there a lot and normal, non-saintly people would have thrown me out for eating them out of house and home. But Doug’s mom didn’t mind!

Even better, Doug had a younger sister. Common sense dictates that trying to hook up with your friend’s sister is considered very bad form. We all knew this. However, trying to hook up with your friend’s sister’s friends was considered fair game. When not skateboarding, shoving food in our face, or trying to beat the crap out of each other for no apparent reason; we spent hours ranking, arguing, and debating the rankings of Doug’s sister’s friends.

As if all of this wasn’t enough, Doug had cable TV. I knew it would take a lot to deflect the Horde; but a half-pipe, food, girls, and cable TV were my best chance. Of course, Sick would have none of it. By the time I got off the phone, I knew the Horde would be there in half an hour. I used to really think about trying to find hiding places for Bagel Dogs. Eventually, I would go through the five phases of grief and come to acceptance by the time the Horde arrived.

This ragtag group of Mongrels would descend onto my house and head right to the freezer, fixing plates, and lining up for the microwave and I knew there was nothing I could do about it. Lest anyone think that I am portraying myself to be innocent, I will admit that I used to do the same thing to Sick. I would show up at his house uninvited all the time. I would walk right through his front door, not say a word, and head right for the refrigerator.

I developed some really weird habits due to the Horde and to this day actively guard my food. When my wife first met me, she was convinced that I was the youngest of five boys. I eat defensively with my arms near my plate ready and willing to hit anyone who tries to make a grab at my food. It takes real effort to use manners and not shock and disgust dinner guests. I still, on a regular basis, walk into my mother-in-law’s house without saying a word and head right for her refrigerator just to take inventory.

Guns
Like golf, I don’t “get” guns. It’s not from a lack of exposure to them or having not made an attempt to like them. What’s more, I could never understand why, seemingly normal in every other way, would go absolutely berserk over the notion of any kind of gun control being imposed on them.

Guns are kind of a fetish item. If people started agitating the government to start regulating golf clubs or golfers felt that their beloved clubs were going to be taken away from them, then it would be in the words of Alex Jones, “1776 all over again!” (if you have fifteen minutes, regardless of your views on gun control - please watch the “debate” between Alex Jones and Piers Morgan - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_XZvMwcluEg).

There is, however, a key difference between gun owners and golfers. Golfers are mostly harmless. They golf in designated areas and their golf clubs do not present a danger to society. Some golfer hold delusions of grandeur and dream of the day they can join the PGA. Golfers are not seen as the creepy or dangerous guy at work. Most people either admire their dedication to the sport or find the golf virus to be a mild eccentricity at worst.

Gun owners on the other hand... Gun owners see a world full of “bad guys”. They seek to protect themselves and their precious guns against ANY sensible form of gun control. I am sympathetic to the notion of wanting to protect one’s belongings. I don’t really have any possession that I can imagine anyone wanting to take from me, but there is still a part of my overall psyche that is a fifteen year old boy that is desperate to protect my Bagel Dogs from Sick Loogie and the Mongrol Horde.

As a frequent listener of the Adam Carolla podcast, he compares the NRA and gun rights to smokers. I am old enough to remember a time when there used to be smoking sections in restaurants and even on airplanes. At some point, laws were passed and then smokers could only smoke in bars and smokers didn’t protest. They got up and walked into the bars and smoked there. Eventually, smoking got banned from bars. The smokers left the bars silently and went outside without protest. Not content, society then forced smokers to smoke 30 feet away from a door. Today, smokers can only be found smoking outside at a distance. In bad weather, they face the elements armed only with an umbrella and a cigarette wishing they could still be inside and smoke freely like they used to.

Instead of compromising and looking at the facts, the NRA and their ilk imagine a world where their precious fetish items are taken away from them. Facts don’t matter. Common sense doesn’t matter. They love guns and view it as their right. Just like I didn’t want my Bagel Dogs taken away from me, they don’t want their guns taken away from them.

However, I am comfortable living in a society where we are told that driving is a privilege and not a right. I understand that I must submit to a breathalyzer test if asked by law enforcement. I must register my vehicle, report its sale, and renew my license to drive. For those that are not members of a well organized militia - you do not have the right to gun ownership. Society has a right to impose rules upon you and your use of weapons. Specifically, the right to a Concealed Carry Weapon (CCW) should be extremely rare. Common sense seems to dictate that those who want a CCW should be required to submit themselves to mental health testing, background checks, and registration. Being trusted to carry a deadly weapon should be regarded as an extreme privilege and sign of trust from society, not a right.

I have said multiple times that I view the NRA’s vision of getting even more guns in the hands of civilians in the country with the highest percentage of gun ownership in the world is a bad idea. I personally believe that it will lead to a state of constant paranoia and desire to use guns instead of peaceful resolution of minor conflicts. I am starting to understand the fear from those who own guns about having something taken away, but I disagree about this being a sacred right. The gun lobby fears the fate of the smoker, but I feel that arming civilians is far, far more dangerous than second hand smoke. I further believe that most gun owners would be better off not owning guns, guys - maybe you could give golf a try?

Be Honest

I have been vocal and unwavering in my view that the NRA’s vision of a call to arms by all civilians is short-sighted, dangerous, and stupid. I fear a dystopia of ordinary citizens convinced of their righteousness, armed, and ready to hand out the death sentence to anyone who contradicts them. I fear this threat far more than some vague threat of “the criminals” or mass murderers (who the NRA ironically and truthfully points out are very rare). Below I will pull together a very real profile of a gun owner. This profile has not been exaggerated in any way. Regardless of your view of gun ownership, I ask you to be honest and answer the question, do you want this person to own a gun? The person in this profile will be referred to as the Future George Zimmerman or FGZ named after the armed vigilante who took a young man’s life as a part of a neighborhood watch after being repeatedly told by law enforcement to not interfere.

Persecution Complex
The FGZ has a persecution complex. Through no fault of his own, he was raised in a physically abusive family environment. As an adult, he has been the victim of violence having been severely beaten twice (outside the United States). Even worse, he is preoccupied with these incidents and seems to relive the trauma on a frequent basis.

Think for a moment of how we portray ourselves in our profile pictures in social media. Some people chose not to feature themselves, but instead use pictures of their children or beloved pets to represent themselves online. I have done this. Others use pictures of themselves, but it is usually their most flattering picture. Again, I am guilty. For a very long period of time, my FaceBook picture was a picture taken before I had children. I was leaner, more muscular, more relaxed, more tan, and flat out better looking.

In real life, the FGZ is below average height, thin, and wears thick Coke-bottle glasses. No one would be intimidated by the FGZ. However, on FaceBook he has chosen to make his public facing persona an avatar that only bears a passing resemblance to the real FGZ. The avatar looks like the FGZ took steroids after gaining 30-40 pounds of lean muscle. The avatar is more masculine, stronger, and more dangerous than the real FGZ. The avatar is prominently shown with a shotgun slung over his shoulder and a menacing grin.

The FGZ is obsessed with guns and has established a small arsenal for himself. He possesses not one handgun, but multiple along with a shotgun and an assault rifle. The FGZ looks for opportunities to tell people about his guns and has an unhealthy preoccupation with them. He speaks about guns more than I mention my family, poker, the Australian housing bubble, and sports combined. When mentioning the incidents in which he was physically beaten in the past, he pauses and mentions that had he been armed, his abusers would be dead.

His guns have become his security blanket and a significant part of his very identity. The FGZ does not leave his house without at least one gun unless expressly prohibited by his employer. The FGZ has gone so far as to refuse to shop at Ikea. Ordinarily, I would be sympathetic of someone who does not want to travel a long distance, put up with huge crowds, select merchandise that may or may not be available for actual purchase, and then spend hours assembling low quality furniture suitable only for college dorm rooms. However, the FGZ’s issue with Ikea is a change in their gun policy - no longer allowing concealed weapons in their stores. The FGZ cannot stomach the thought of being without his precious guns.

Missed Opportunities
I have witnessed firsthand moments when news of a gun massacre has reached the FGZ. Normal people usually express sympathy for the victims or even outrage against the shooter. The FGZ has never shown the ability to empathize or comprehend the feelings of others. He does, however, expresses remorse for not being there.

Any robbery or massacre is not a tragedy to the FGZ. It is a missed opportunity to right previous wrongs. In his mind, this is what he has prepared for. This is the chance to no longer be the victim, but to become the hero.

Violence in the workplace
Sadly, some people have to expect violence in the workplace. Those who chose to work in fields such as the military, law enforcement, security, or in corrections do so with the knowledge that they will encounter violent, unstable people. Workplace violence, sadly, is part of the job. The rest of us, however, have a right to a zero tolerance for workplace violence or even the threat of workplace violence.

The FGZ worked for several years at a big software company in Redmond, WA. The software company uses a controversial performance management system of stack ranking. For the years that the FGZ worked at the big software company, he was consistently ranked at the bottom of his peer group. His ratings were so low that he faced the decision of leaving on his own volition or being dismissed.

The FGZ’s peers and management never necessarily criticized the quality of his work. Instead, the focus of the criticism has always been his inability to collaborate, cooperate, or function within a team. The FGZ is a loner and frequently lashed out at any co-worker with a contradictory view. He was viewed as divisive and detrimental to a healthy team dynamic.

Of course, the gun fetish did not help. At the big software company, there is a culture of decorating one’s office. Most people bring in pictures of their families. Some hang numbers used in triathlons. Others bring in eccentric Star Wars lego toys or other kitsch items. The FGZ does not display pictures of his family or show any interest in anything other than guns. Used targets from shooting ranges adorned the walls of his office while he worked there.

The FGZ does comply with the company’s no firearms policy but it is of little solace to his co-workers. The FGZ is not shy about saying that in his car, parked off campus and only a few minutes walk away is a loaded weapon. At the many official and unofficial happy hours sponsored by the company, the FGZ is packing. He will say in the middle of the dispute, with a smile, “I’ll shoot you.” Given that he is either carrying a loaded weapon or just a few minutes away from one, this type of passive-aggressive bullying should be considered extremely dangerous - especially when coming from an individual who fails to show any effort to get along with his co-workers to the point that he is managed out of the company.

Alcohol
Some things go together like chocolate and peanut butter. Some things will not go together no matter how hard you try like oil and water. Some things that really shouldn’t go together mix rather easily like drinking and driving.

Over the last forty years, there has been a movement to curb drinking and driving. After the failure that was Prohibition, advanced societies have struggled with finding a middle ground for alcohol. While alcohol clearly dulls reflexes, impairs judgement, and is often times a contributing factor in domestic abuse; at the same time Prohibition failed, moderate alcohol consumption may have some health benefits, if done responsibly - alcohol can be used effectively to socialize and network, and no one really wants to say it but drinking can be... fun.

In trying to establish a difference between the person who goes out to a happy hour and consumes three drinks in two hours and drives home and the person who is a real threat to the public safety, we have focused on the Blood Alcohol Content of an individual. In Victoria, Australia, the legal limit as defined by the BAC is .05%. In the state of Washington, the legal limit is .08%. Is Victoria too stringent? Perhaps. Is Washington too lax? Perhaps. Regardless of the established limit, the important thing is that a limit has been established and enforced by each society.

Unfortunately, in the United States - with the most heavily armed population in the history of the world, there is no agreed upon limit that I am aware of where an individual must surrender his guns. Where we have established limits as defined by BAC for drinking and driving, I would like to see these limits be even stricter and carry even stiffer penalties than a DUI.

With the emphasis being placed not on a total ban such as Prohibition, but on sensible limits and responsibility, I hate the term functioning alcoholic. I prefer to focus on the word functioning and ignore the word alcoholic. Alcoholism is a serious and real problem. But where does having a drink end and a problem begin?

Ordinarily, the person who likes to have a drink but still goes to work without a problem and still spends time with their family does not have a problem. Labeling moderate drinkers as functional alcoholics seems to do a disservice to the notion of responsible drinking. This label seems like a Puritanical remnant belonging to the temperance movement. In fact, there is an entire advanced civilization of 500 million people across the Atlantic Ocean who typically like to come home from work and share a bottle of wine with their significant others. We do not call these people functional alcoholics. We call them “Europeans”.

Back to the FGZ, though. I loathe labeling this individual as a functional alcoholic. He does go to work. He does spend time with his family. Call him what you will, but he also has a minimum of three alcoholic beverages a day, often times alone. Sometimes, he has many, many more alcoholic drinks. When he drinks, he never surrenders his guns.

Extreme Law Enforcement
The FGZ is the kind of person that sets his cruise control to 1-2 miles per hour below the posted speed limit. He cannot stand the breaking of any rule or regulation nor will he tolerate minor violations of the law. Ordinarily, this is not a bad thing.

There was an outbreak of petty vandalism in the FGZ’s neighborhood. The FGZ proudly boasted to a roomful of shocked people that if his property were trespassed upon, he would shoot and kill those involved.

The FGZ has moved beyond a doctrine of self defense and has been aggressively looking for opportunities to enforce his style of justice. He is known to listen in on police scanners and has bought surveillance equipment to legally spy on his own neighbors.

Mental Illness
I am fortunate to have awesome parents. Unfortunately, through no fault of my or their down, I have a genetic predisposition to cancer. There are those who would fight tooth and nail to prevent this information from reaching insurance companies. The thought of me paying extra or being denied coverage because of who my parents are seems... unamerican.

While insurance companies may choose to see me as a cancer threat, my predisposition to this disease does not affect anyone outside of my family. I cannot let loose a cancer epidemic on the general population. Unfortunately, those with mental illness and firearms can cause great harm to their communities.

Ordinarily, I would say that someone’s family background should be ignored. Ordinarily, someone’s family is irrelevant when applying to a university, for a job, to buy a home. However, when an individual wants to carry a weapon or purchase an assault rifle, I think the family history becomes suddenly relevant and necessary.

Unfortunately, the FGZ has a family history of severe depression and has lost an immediate family member to suicide, ironically by gunshot. While by itself, not enough to be damning, it is just one more piece of a puzzle that should prevent someone who lacks empathy, the ability to cooperate, has a persecution complex, wants to right previous injustices, fetishizes guns, consumes at least three alcoholic beverages daily, and has expressed the willingness and even the desire to administer the death sentence for minor violations of the law from ever buying a gun.

Vested Interest
As the statute of limitations has long been exceeded, I hereby confess that I and a group of my friends (not naming names to protect the guilty) used to occasionally trespass. Growing up a skate rat in the late 80’s and early 90’s in Phoenix, we would find houses that became abandoned for one reason or another and skate their pools. My friends and I never graffitied or damaged the property in any way other than skating the pools. The only thing that was ever left behind was the occasional bucket to bail out the deep end and a broom used to clean up debris from the pool.

We did not kid ourselves, we knew what we were doing was illegal. We did it anyway. I can’t imagine what would have happened if the FGZ came across my former self. Although I stopped pool skating at the age of 17, had the FGZ been listening to a police scanner and heard a complaint about local skate punks in a house nearby; myself or one of my friends could easily have been killed.

Had the FGZ shown up and told us to leave, one of would have surely greeted him with a, “Fuck off, Grandpa!” and gone right back to skating. Of course, we would know that it was probably time to leave, so after insulting the FGZ, we would probably walk towards him to exit. At seventeen, even though I did not need to shave, I was 6’4” and nearly 200 pounds of solid muscle. My friends had also filled out to a point where outnumbered six to one, the FGZ could perceive us to be a threat. I have never been hit upside the head with a skateboard, but I could see how 30” of maple hardwood (my friends and I were smart enough to know the Powell Peralta decks of this era made of foam or “bonite” were crap and stopped riding them) could be considered a weapon. Armed only with skateboards and aggressive shitty, attitudes; all it would take for one of us to be murdered is one mistake. One bump or menacing glare at the FGZ who would be looking to become a hero, drunk off of multiple drinks and his own sense of power and worth, and an expressed willingness to kill over minor violations of the law and there would be death.

I don’t talk to my group of semi juvenile delinquents often. However, I am in some form of regular contact with all of them. I have attended some reunions and had a chance to see what became of this group. I would like to think that every boy in this group of hooligans is leading a life that has purpose. This group of boys now features men who have received PhD’s. Men who have started businesses. Men who hold jobs, pay taxes, and have families. Had we been caught, we were prepared to be grounded by our parents and face community service and probation. No one was prepared to face death at the hands of a dangerous vigilante. Our society is better off with this group of boys having lived to become men.

Let he is without sin...
I am positive that anyone who has read this far would not want the FGZ to have the license to carry a gun, let alone have a small arsenal. I now open myself to criticism... For those that know me and find me to have an aggressive, confrontational style - would you want me to have the license to carry a gun? I wouldn’t blame you if you said, “No!”

I find it hard to write about myself unless it is self-deprecating, but in fairness to my question above, I would like to point out that over a two year period encompassing four ratings periods as judged by dozens of officers in the United States Air Force, upperclassmen, and to a lesser extent my peers - I was rated in the top quintile of one of the most prestigious (grudgingly West Point and Annapolis would be the others) and competitive military institutions in our country. It would be fair to say that no one can really define what exactly our military ratings were but they were supposed to be a proxy for a cadet’s leadership and followership, duty to their classmates, and service to the Academy. The USAFA experience can aptly be called a pressure cooker of stress and unpredictability and I was still tapped for military honors for three out of four ratings periods.

So, if you answered no to my question of would you want me to have a gun - knowing that I am an expert marksman and shown general proficiency with weapons and have received exemplary marks for my performance in the military, who do you know that you actually want to have a gun? Be honest.

Go to FaceBook and take a look at the list of several hundred true friends, family members, schoolmates, co-workers, frenemies, and randoms that make up this list of people that we voluntarily share information and ideas with. Go ahead and look. I’ll wait.

Who among this list has the requisite skill with weapons, who is wise and just, who has the right temperament, who will not be corrupted by power, but still has the will to use a weapon of deadly force if absolutely necessary? What percentage of people on this list meet this criteria? 1%? 2%? Be honest.

I freely admit that I live in fear. Fear of the NRA’s call to arms of civilians. Fear of the FGZ handing out the death sentence to my son in a few years. Fear of stupid arguments or workplace disagreements escalating to shoot outs. I fear the 98% of the people that I know and actually like owning a gun. Be honest, is this vision of a society where everyone is armed a good idea?

Thoughts on Gun Control

“War is an ugly thing but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks nothing is worth war is much worse. The person who has nothing for which he is willing to fight, nothing which is more important than his own personal safety is a miserable creature and has no chance of being free unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself.” - John Stuart Mill

Two decades ago, I memorized the above quote as part of Basic Cadet Training in the United States Air Force Academy. Now, over twenty years later, I am still capable of remembering the quote, it was written without the aid of a search engine. I selected this quote for several reasons. I am proud that, as I joined the next generation of American warriors, we were taught not to glorify violence, but instead to view it as a necessary evil.

It also reminds me of being a young man finding myself at the Academy. Years later, when I met my future wife, I told her that I was the “flaming liberal of the Air Force Academy”. She rolled her eyes and stated, “There is no place on earth where you are a flaming liberal.” Years later, when she met some Academy graduates she apologized and said as far right of center as I am, I really must have seemed like a liberal there. As I have publicly engaged several vocal pro-gun advocates since my return to the United States and the tragedy of Sandy Hook, I would like to dispel any misconceptions for those who may not know me well.

Through the course of earnest debate, I have been somewhat painted as a sushi eating, latte drinking, pot smoking hippy pacifist, from the ultra-Blue state of Washington. On the contrary, I was raised in the ultra-Red state of Arizona and on most things am pretty right of center. I am not a crazed supporter of some left wing agenda nor am I a pacifist. I believe violence is an option - but it should always remain the very last option. In fact it was my belief in violence that made me the liberal of the Academy.

In 1992, I was in a political science class discussing the upcoming presidential election. The Republican nominee, George H. W. Bush was a decorated Navy aviator who served his country in WW II fighting the enemy in the Pacific arena. The Democratic nominee was the disgraceful draft dodging pot smoker William J. Clinton who wanted to allow GAYS - DIRTY DISGUSTING HOMOSEXUALS serve in our beloved armed services.

“If I ever found a gay in the Cadet Wing, I would personally beat the shit out of them,” my classmate proudly asserted.

“No you wouldn’t,” I said calmly.

“Why not? Fucking fags do not belong here!”

“You simply can’t go around beating people up because they’re different from you.”

“It won’t just be me, there are plenty of others who wouldn’t mind a bit of queer bashing.”

And I ended the debate with the sincere threat of violence in front of my instructor, an officer in the Air Force. “You would have to get through me first.”

That was my stand. I lacked the courage to support gays in the military. I never said that homosexuals should be allowed into the Cadet Wing. I simply stated that beating someone senseless for being gay is morally reprehensible and I became a fag lover. I would like to think that had I been born in another century that I would have been called a nigger lover too.

Based on my experiences at the Academy and my own self-professed fairly right wing world view, I get concerned when I appear to be the liberal. Throughout my course of debate on the gun control issue, I now find myself re-embracing the role of the flaming liberal and that concerns me. I would like to address some of the issues I have heard from the pro-gun side and see how that compares with President Obama’s vision of gun control in the twenty-first century.

I have personally used a gun to put a critically injured deer out of its misery.
There you have it, the single best use of a firearm by a civilian I have heard throughout the course of debate. Sadly, there are deer that will be hit by cars and the humane thing to do is to put them down instead of let them suffer for hours on the side of the road until they eventually die from their wounds.

I like to shoot. It’s a real sport. If you ever shot guns you would get it too.
I have in fact, been raised with guns. I started shooting rifles when I was ten. I grew up in Arizona and partook in the great white trash tradition of shooting shit in the desert. In the Air Force, I qualified as an expert on the M9 and the M16. Being an accurate shot is definitely a skill and everybody needs a hobby. If anyone wants to go to a gun range and do some target practice, I really don’t care. It’s not my thing and there was a time when I used to do it. For whatever reason, it no longer appeals to me personally, but I see no reason why people should not still be able to participate in this if they so desire.

Hunting.
I have never been hunting, but I have always wanted to go deer hunting. As a non-vegetarian, I would like to know what it’s like to catch my own dinner. I would be willing to obey all laws related to hunting, purchase a hunting license, and only hunt during hunting season. I have never gone hunting because I don’t know what I am doing. If anyone out there is willing to take an inexperienced liability with them on their next trip, I would gladly take them up on it.

Home protection.
I have just listed three reasons for gun ownership, that while don’t have me running out to buy a gun, don’t really appall me either. This is where I start to differ. I do not own a gun nor will I ever own a gun to protect my home. I feel there is more danger from accidental shooting and other reasons that I will get into a bit later. However, I do think there is some middle ground here. If one truly feels they need a gun for home protection and understands all the safety risks associated with gun ownership, I think that choice belongs to the individual and will be shaped by their unique circumstances.

We need guns to keep a tyrannical government in check!
I have served in the armed forces of the United States. No civilian is ever going to overthrow a tyrannical government armed with body armour and attack helicopters. I have held the shells that are shot out of A-10s and are capable of piercing tanks. To think civilians could stand up against this is sheer lunacy.

Within our system of government, there are much better tools to overthrow bad government policy that do not involve the use of arms. As a case in point, I would like to acknowledge the Civil Rights movement. For one hundred years after the formal end of slavery in the United States, black people remained second class citizens with real rights (not pretend rights like assault rifle ownership) infringed upon. Black people faced discrimination in buying property, intimidation in voting, segregation in schools, were not permitted to use the same bathrooms and water fountains as white people, and had to suffer through every day humiliation like giving up a seat on the bus so a white person could sit down. While not as bad as slavery, all of the above seem fairly tyrannical to me. These laws and traditions were nothing short of government sponsored intimidation and humiliation.

The Jim Crow laws were not ended by black people arming themselves and righteously shooting government agents of discrimination. The Jim Crow laws were brought to an end through bringing attention to the matter from speeches, peaceable assembly, boycotts, and media exposure. As black people courageously faced tear gas, were attacked by guard dogs, and were sprayed with water hoses; we as a nation watched and were shocked by what we saw. The images of those marching and speaking for civil rights shocked a disgraced nation in front of a global audience to do the right thing and end these abhorrent practices.

Wanna end tyranny? Try free speech and peaceable assembly. It works.

I am not naive enough to think that there was no violence involved in the Civil Rights movement. People were severely beaten and many died before the passing of the Civil Rights Act. However, it could have been much, much worse. A huge social upheaval was accomplished with a minimal amount of violence. The tactics practiced by the leaders of the Civil Rights movement are every bit as practical today as they were then. In fact, we now live in a society where almost every citizen is carrying a video camera and can quickly and easily upload any evidence of tyranny to a global audience. If the mainstream media does not want to pick it up, we now have the technology to self publish and expose our government should it chose to turn on its people. I firmly believe that in fighting tyranny, a camcorder is far more effective than a gun.



I don’t want to give up one of my sacred rights because of a few idiots!
Sadly, our nation was founded upon slavery. Forever enshrined in our Constitution is the Three-Fifths Compromise which states that slaves are to be counted as three-fifths of a person for the purpose of a census. As a nation, we went to war and lost more American lives than every other war put together over the issue of slavery. There were many slaveholders who felt that their moral and Constitutional rights to own slaves were being violated. Looking back, the idea of one human owning another human seems ludicrous. Through our twenty-first century morality, it is almost impossible to empathize with the slave owner who lost his rights.

Stop thinking of gun ownership as a cherished right that is being taken away by your tyrannical government. Start thinking of it as a society that is growing up.

My rights.
Yep, I think your “right” to gun ownership is infringing upon my rights. Let me explain...

In high school I had a friend who was two years behind me. I went off to college and wound up at a party on New Year’s Eve. It was an epic party - truly one for the ages. I was having a great time and had a great buzz going. The clock struck 12 and “Mark” (name changed to protect the stupid) thought it would be a great idea to pull out his gun and shoot it in the air. I can still remember trying to drunkenly explain the laws of gravity and that shooting bullets into the air was a horrible, unsafe idea. Mark disregarded my advice and I thought it would probably be a good idea not to hang out with Mark anymore.

A few years after the party, another friend told me a story about Mark. Mark and another idiot got in an argument over a parking space in Tempe. There was some bluster and shouting when the first idiot pulled out a gun. Mark dropped to the ground and pulled his gun, shot, and killed the first idiot. Shortly after, Mark willingly turned himself into the police. Mark made a statement, witnesses made statements, and Mark was let go. The case was never prosecuted and closed as self defense.

This is not a feel good story of self protection. This is proof positive of Baron von Clausewitz’s statement “violence tends to escalate.”  The rhetoric and aggression would not have reached this pinnacle had these two not been carrying guns, someone would not be dead. At worst, a fight would have broken out, but sadly a life was lost over a fucking parking space. I fear as people arm themselves increasingly for “self-protection” this scenario will play out over and over again.

Performance Enhancing Drugs
Wait a minute, I thought you were talking about gun control? In the wake of Lance Armstrong’s confession to the use of performance enhancing drugs (PEDs), there is a growing group of people asking why PEDs should even be banned in the first place. Why not let them be a part of sports?

As a society, we love sports because it may be the very last true meritocracy. It is a place where talent overcomes everything else. The coach’s son may get extra time and attention in little league, but by the time we view college or professional sports it’s all about getting the best athletes onto the field. If someone uses PEDs they have an edge over anyone who does not use. At some point, sports such as cycling, get so dirty that the only way to compete is to use PEDs. The sport is now no longer a meritocracy and a display of talent. It starts to come down to who has access to the best PEDs. An athlete who has a moral qualm or concerns with the health risks associated with the PEDs can no longer compete in this environment because everyone else is using. They have no choice but to use themselves.

As much as the pro-gun side envisions a dystopia run by a tyrannical government that robs them of their precious guns and the ability to overthrow said tyranny; I am starting to envision a completely different and more real dystopia. My dystopia involves everyone carrying a gun because they simply have no choice. To go out unarmed would leave one subject to the whims of the bulk of regular civilians who are armed and my rights would be infringed upon. Ordinary arguments over parking spaces or workplace disagreements would end in death. Maybe I have a vested interest here because I am loud, obnoxious, freely offer my opinion to people who do not necessarily want to hear it, and am capable of being quite the asshole. What if my unpopular opinion is not appreciated by someone holding a gun? Does he have the right to flash his piece, threaten shooting, or draw on me? This is the real scenario that I truly fear.

Vividness. You are only focusing on guns because the images from Sandy Hook are so incredibly vivid that it upsets you. You face many more dangers from life including driving a car or germs in a hospital.
Ah, the vividness argument. Yes, life is dangerous. However, the NRA and the pro-gun lobby actively celebrates guns and cherishes the opportunity to use their guns. I realize I may sound a bit like a pro-lifer talking about wanting to foster a “culture of life”. There is a key distinction here as I don’t think any woman has ever celebrated an abortion. In fact, women who do have abortions typically suffer from depression and are far higher suicide risks. It is possible that the guilt and weight of this decision haunts them for a very long time. While the pro-life side has their reasons to believe they are right, no one on the pro-choice side loves it when a woman aborts a fetus.

Back to gun control though, the pro-gun side loves it when a “good guy” stops a bad guy. They dream of the chance to be a hero. This scenario scares me and is why I would like to see reasonable gun control enacted and end the glorification of righteous good guys with guns.

The Second Ammendment
I don’t care which side of the debate you are on, if you have read this far, you should read the Second Amendment in its entirety. It’s short.

“A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.”

Does the second amendment mean that well regulated militias may own guns or does it grant freedom to every citizen to own military grade weaponry? Since our founding fathers are all dead, we will never know their true intentions. However, I believe our founding fathers were simultaneously visionary dreamers who created an amazing system of government designed to keep us free and hypocritical slave owners. They were wrong about some things like black men having 60% of the value of a white men. Regardless of their intentions, which is probably somewhere in the middle between guns for militias and assault rifles for all, it doesn’t matter. Our society has changed. Get over it. There is room for gun control without infringing on the sacradness of the second amendment, depending on your interpretation of it.

Only a good guy with a gun can stop a bad guy with a gun.
“Power tends to corrupt. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” - Lord Acton

This is my nightmare scenario. Some guy who has been picked on his whole life goes out and gets a gun because he is, in fact, a “good guy”. Now the next time he feels bullied or intimidated, he is going to whip out his gun and relive every humiliation he suffered through as an adolescent. In that moment, he is going to build himself up to be that good and righteous person and stand up for his rights and shoot someone for being an asshole. Again, I have a vested interest here as I am, in fact, quite the asshole at times.

If someone wants to be a “good guy”, by all means, volunteer to serve in our nation’s military or law enforcement services. I will say this, I entered the United States Air Force Academy in peak physical condition. I was capable of running a mile and a half in nine minutes flat. Could rattle off 20 pull ups. Bench press 315 pounds. I am not the least bit ashamed to admit that Basic Cadet Training nearly broke me physically and mentally. I say I am not ashamed because everyone who went through it felt the same way. I learned what the word “serve” meant and appreciate the men and women who do serve.

However, going down to the Army/Navy surplus store and buying a field jacket and going to the target range once in awhile does not qualify one to be a righteous armed citizen. That is not a life of service dedicated to the protection of liberty. It’s vigilantism at best. At worst, it will lead to the next George Zimmerman or an angry man out to right every perceived injustice he has ever suffered.

At what point does someone’s “right” to a gun end and my right to go out and have a good time and not get shot begin? Seriously, what is wrong with sensible gun control? What’s wrong with a ban on assault rifles, background checks, cooling off periods? What has President Obama proposed that is so damn offensive? What are the alternatives that can be used to help our society evolve? Is there an answer besides arming every citizen?

I lived in a society that voluntarily disarmed itself following a gun massacre. In almost every way, I cherish the American life over the Australian life, except when it comes to gun control. I felt safer walking around Australia comfortable in the knowledge that I was not surrounded by wannabe heroes itching at the chance to prove themselves “good guys”. I am notorious for not caring about my personal safety, but if I were given the choice of having my wife or daughter walk through St Kilda or Venice Beach at night - I would not hesitate on this hypothetical to say St Kilda. Gun disarmament can work. I have seen it.

Last Thoughts
As I have said, I am not a pacifist. There have been a few times in my adult life when I felt violence was merited. In both of these incidents, having been armed would have been disastrous.

I was a poor twenty-three year old living in Hermosa Beach. I had very few material possessions, but did possess a shitty, old couch. At some point, a roommate went out and bought something much nicer than my shitty, old couch. For some reason, rather than doing the sane thing like hauling the shitty, old couch to the dump or arranging for oversized trash pickup, we took my shitty, old couch and moved it outside to a patio area.

Since the couch was old and shitty, I didn’t care if it got rained on. By the time summer came around and we felt like barbecuing on the patio, the couch would be dry enough to sit on. I guess we figured that if it got moldy and so gross that no one would ever sit on it, we could deal with it later. So the couch sat there throughout the Spring and I more or less forgot about it.

Then one night, my girlfriend and I decided to leave my apartment at around 10PM to walk to the convenience store and get some snacks and drinks. As we walked past the patio, I heard some strange noises. In the shadows, I saw two men raping a woman. The adrenaline started pumping and I was ready to take two rapists on by myself. Except... As I approached the patio ready to fight these vile attackers, I heard the most surprising noise. Giggling. The two men and the girl quickly pulled their pants up and ran away towards the beach, arm in arm in arm.

I was absolutely shocked that a young lady would willingly decide to get double teamed by two guys on my shitty, old couch not far from a major street. My girlfriend caught up to me and we watched in stunned silence. A few moments ago, I was absolutely convinced I was going to stop a rape and it only took a twenty second delay to realize I was wrong. What if I were packing and desperate to prove myself to be a hero? I could have easily shot two men for having incredibly bad judgement. There were a few crimes that were committed by the threesome and I would have been within my rights to file charges for lewd acts in public, trespassing, and ask for restitution for my now forever soiled couch. If caught, I am pretty sure that a sentence of community service and possibly drug and alcohol counseling would be reasonable. However, these crimes did not merit a death sentence. For clarity’s sake, I feel obligated to say that I never sat on the couch again.

The last time I actually hit someone was not long after the couch incident. I went on a trip with my girlfriend and was around a bunch of people I did not know. I was having a great time and the entire group consumed a lot of alcohol. A LOT OF ALCOHOL. Sometime around 3AM, my girlfriend and I decided to call it a night. I woke up at 6AM to a phone call and my girlfriend telling me I had to go to her friends’ room. One of the guys in the group went to the girls’ room and then proceeded to get on top of one of the girls and he wasn’t leaving.

I walked into a scene that was ugly and only getting worse. A six foot, two hundred pound man was on top of a 110 pound girl. She was screaming and hitting him while pinned underneath him and he was not letting go. I have said it numerous times, I hate violence, but this was not the time for me to gently tap the man on the shoulder and ask him if he thought the young lady was appreciating his actions. I hit him as hard as I could repeatedly in the ribs. He momentarily forgot about sexually assaulting the girl and focused on me. Punches were thrown. I managed to pick him up and physically throw him out of the room. In the hallway, I had him in a choke hold until he stopped fighting. Without another word being said, after he calmed down, he got up and left ashamed of himself.

The girls would have been well within their rights to have called hotel security. They would have restrained the guy until the police came. The girl who was pinned could have filed a sexual assault charge and the guy would have become a sex offender. Some would say that would be right rather than take a mild beating from me but escaping without any other consequence. I do know that this incident was a turning point for the guy and he acknowledged he had a problem with drinking and stopped doing it.

Either way though, I am glad that I did not enter the room with a gun out yelling, “Stop or I’ll shoot.” Instead of being jailed or taking a beating he would be dead and I would be a killer. I would be spending the rest of my days second guessing myself and definitely would not choose to see myself as a hero.