Well, here it is, 3 o'clock on Christmas morning and I'm up because my wife woke me at 2 to tell me that my 18-year-old college freshman daughter wasn't back from midnight church like she promised. Girl wouldn't answer her cell phone, and seeing as how she was out with her new Naval-Academy-bound boyfriend (he's going to their prep school in Rhode Island) and was about an hour and a half past the previously agreed upon time, I began dressing to drive over and roust the boy's old man. I mean, if I wasn't sleeping he wasn't going to sleep either. Just about the time I get my second shoe on and grab the keys and the .45, she calls saying they've been talking at the Waffle House. (And, yes, I can hear dishes clanking in the background.) Well, better than being dead beside the road.
OK, fine, that's one heart attack I don't have to have. She's home now and all through the house not a creature is stirring except, of course, me with angina. So I fire up the computer and what do I find?
The LA PTB's (Power That Be) have banned the possession of fifty caliber ammunition in the environs of that modern example of civic excrescence. While its just the latest example of Californication, I sent this letter to the LA Times. (I mean I ain't sleeping and Christmas or not, letter writing is my default mode).
To the Editor, LA Times
As a fifty caliber rifle shooter I note with interest that I am no longer welcome within the city limits of LA. The police chief says that fifty cals are only needed to deal with "Godzilla."
Well, when Godzilla comes to town don't come crying to me about how you don't have the means to deal with him. If he eats both the Mayor and the Police Chief, I'll merely be back here in Alabama laughing.
Reminds me of the story about the Tennessee good old boy who owned a Holland & Holland elephant gun in some big Nitro Express caliber. His friends used to rag him about it. "Earl what do you own an elephant gun for? You ain't never goin' to Africa and you know it."
"I keep it to protect me from any rogue elephants that might be around."
"But, Earl, there AIN'T no rogue elephants in Tennessee."
"That's because I'm ready for 'em and they know it."
Personally I think it would be a much more polite and refined society if a seventeen year old girl could walk into a Seven Eleven at 2 o'clock in the morning and buy an RPG without having to show ID.
One day, when the Nanny State collapses of its own tyrannical weight, we'll all find out I'm right.
Until then, if Godzilla comes to town me and my fifty caliber shooter buddies are just goin' to stay right here in Alabama in front of the TV set and munch popcorn while the atomic lizard tears y'all a new anal sphincter out of the heart of LA. Serves you right. Hope he eats Hollywood too. Especially Rosie O'Donnell. Heck, I'd pay to watch THAT.
PO Box 926
Pinson AL 35126
Sigh. I used to be up at three o'clock on Christmas morning assembling toys. I miss those days.