Picture this if you will. A small suburban neighborhood nestled to the west of Detroit (namely Dearborn). Moderately sized houses forming pre-planned grids of blocks. One house on my block has a large privacy fence surrounding the backyard area. Some inhabitants of the houses nearby have noticed a strange phenomena. Once a bird cosily huddled in a tree suddenly became a puff of mush and feathers. A squirrel was found dead from an obvious bullet wound. Also, a garage directly across from the aforementioned enclosed yard has been noticed with pock marks and bullet holes.
I guess I should just accept it. I mean I live in the good old US of A for Christ sakes. It was written into the constitution so it must be his god given right to own and fire whatever he likes.
The police came by one day and stopped at the fenced house. I was only able to find out what happened from the police report that was listed in the paper later that week. What the report basically said is this:
We stopped by that guy's house that everyone in the neighborhood knows has been shooting stuff. He has lots of guns, even a modified AK-47, and they are all legal. There have been reports of gun shots going off, but, we don't really have any proof.
There would be proof if the keystone cops that are responsible for the area would only look at the back of the garage situated behind this freak's house. What would the NRA say? Well, since one common belief is that if everyone had a gun we would be much safer, maybe I should go out and buy my first gun. I think that I'll make it a Ruger or a Glock and practice on the back of his garage, that should be OK with him.
Don't get me wrong, I don't love squirrels and there are some birds that piss me off sometimes (they really do). Somehow going around randomly squirting a big metal fire penis at passing things just doesn't seem like the right approach. I know that that is going way out on a limb, but what the heck, just call me weird. Maybe one day the wacky crimebusters in my neck of the woods will consider it a "real" problem. Until then I guess I'll keep wearing my kevlar underwear and watch out for falling meat.