Y'all gunna have ta scuze me for just a minute, cause I'm busy polishing the barrel on my semi-automatic assault rifle that I'm 'bout to take a deer huntin'. I'm usin' this un cause, see, I can just open up and kill me a whole bunch a deer at one time iffin I find me a bevy of 'em out there when I'm a'huntin'. I don't know why everbody got a hitch in they getalongs 'bout us hunters needin' these kinds of rifles. They is necessary! And they come in purty damn handy down at the Beer Barn, too. Ain't nobody gonna try to snatch my wallet off its chain when they starin' down the nose of this thing. They say we ain't supposed to drank while we're in there with a gun, but don't tell anybody, I done snuck me a cold one or two in the john with my rifle and didn't nobody even know it! Thank God for that there N R of A!
Okay, so not all gun owners are bumpkins out peeing in the woods and blasting off rounds at whatever moves, but come on. While down deep I really wish that guns had never been invented, on the pragmatic side I can understand why people have them. I have good friends who have them, shoot them at the range, and even teach marksmanship. I have relatives who once had a gun club where everyone gathered to shoot clay pigeons or skeet or whatever it's called. I know people who collect interesting guns. One of my oldest friends in the world used to carry a pearl-handled derringer in her clutch purse for protection. (I did really love that. We were in Overton Square one night after a Carmen McRae concert at the old Auditorium North Hall, and I locked my keys in the car. I was fiddling with coat hangers and things and trying to get the window open, and she pulled out the little gun and in all seriousness said, "Shall I just shoot it out, dahlin'?")
We did manage to figure something else out. And how OLD does this make me? I've even had two roommates who had guns in my house. But these ridiculous arguments for an average person to "need" a semi-automatic assault weapon are beyond explanation. I know it's all been said, written, debated, and shouted to the mountaintops by everyone who holds that Second Amendment near and dear to their gun-toting hearts, but I just want to go on record as saying that I think it's more a fact than an opinion that everyday people do not "need" to be able fire off 100 bullets in 20 seconds or however many it is those things fire off. And that's that. No more about it.
No, I am going to focus on more important things in the new year. I am going to try to find out once and for all who Kim Kardashian is so I can care. I'm going to get to the bottom of why Katie Holmes left Tom Cruise (ha ha, I wrote "get to the bottom" and "Tom Cruise" in the same sentence). I'm going to turn off that documentary channel and watch some Katie. I'm going to write critiques of all the television commercials that are so bad you can't understand what the actors are mumbling. I swear there is one for some kind of fudgy granola bar, and it sounds like the woman in the spot says "date rape" at the end. I'm going to write Lil' Wayne a fan letter, once I figure out who he is, too. I'm going to join the paparazzi and risk my life chasing down famous people, once I figure out why they are famous. I'm going to find bargains and hire a family to sit around a cheery kitchen early in the morning and eat breakfast together and talk about how good the processed food is. (Do families really sit around their cheery kitchens early in the morning and eat breakfast together? I can't even fathom something like that. It's kind of depressing to me — not that I can't fathom that but that people really do that.) Perhaps I have a dark side? Ya think?
What I'm not going to do is argue about gun laws, make new year's resolutions, take a look back at the fascinating stories of 2012, although I still can't get over the Amish gangs attacking other Amish brethren and shaving their heads and beards at gunpoint. Another argument against guns! We need to get them out of the hands of the Amish! And speaking of which, if you haven't seen the new reality show Amish Mafia, you should do yourself a favor and check it out. It rivals Baby Doo-Doo or Honey Poo-Poo or whatever that poor little child's name is who will probably grow into such an emotionally scarred adult that she will jump out of a window when she looks back on what Hollywood and her own family did to her as a child. Talk about someone who is not going to be safe with a gun as an adult.