Celebrate Buy A Gun Day!

Here is a re-post from 04/06/2004:

For me, Buy A Gun Day was Saturday:

Yes, it is quite small. It's rather remarkable, really -- no bigger than my hand. A friend had spotted this gem at a local gun shop and took me out there to see it over the weekend. Admittedly, for as much as I talk smack about exercising my Second Amendment rights, I was rather apprehensive. For one thing, I had never fired a gun before, so what do I know about gun shopping, right? "Oooh, purty. That looks like a gun alright." Second, there is the whole female guns-are-icky-and-I'll-never-touch-one-of-those-things nonsense to get over. It's one thing to talk about it, it's entirely another thing to actually do it. Third, there is the ever-present, can't ignore it no matter how hard I try, Mommy Instinct (I will be bringing something into the house that has the potential to kill my babies).

My friend had his own firearm purchase to work through, so I had some time to think it all over. I had pretty much decided I would be going home with all my money when the shop owner, upon hearing I had never fired a gun before, offered me the opportunity to try before I buy. Now, even knowing that this shop was out in the middle of nowhere, I still felt pretty strange about the whole thing. Then, realizing that this was the perfect opportunity to put Points One *and* Two to bed in one fell swoop, I took him up on his offer. He dug out some ammo, loaded it up, put it in my hand, and told me to aim it a distance away at the ground. I had no clue what to do. It's a good thing that the Tomcat has that curved area at the top of the grip, or I might have held it all wrong and seriously messed up my hand. So, point one scored as a good gun for newbies.

I pointed, arms straight out, like I'd seen on TV and had practiced during countless games of Area 51 in graduate school.

I squeezed the trigger.

It fired. It was *really* loud. I felt the tiny pinpricks of hot powder on my hands and forearms. I think I can still feel it. I looked at my friend and the shop owner, and they urged me to try again.

I did.

And thus my fears were allayed somewhat. I was no longer a "gun virgin."

As you can imagine, there is an adrenaline rush associated with making something go boom. Though it was expected, it was still a little unnerving. Years and years of anti-gun propaganda in the media that guns are bad, guns are evil, guns are dangerous, can result in a bit of cognitive dissonance the first time one shoots. If guns are so horrible, why did I *like* that? And why do I want to do it again? Could I actually hit a target with this? When can I get a membership to a gun club and practice?

Now there is an empowered female to deal with. Rachel Lucas, on her old blog, once wrote a piece on how unnerving (or outright terrifiying, depending on your environment) it can be to be a very petite, physically weaker person. How, given the right state of paranioa, I have to be aware that at any given time, 90% of the population (there are 10-year-olds bigger and stronger than I am) could simply break me and have unfettered access to my house, my car, my body, my children. It sounds over the top, but it's a pretty horrible feeling to know that if a goblin ever broke into my house with the intent to harm me and mine, I would be completely and utterly helpless to stop it.

That thought process quickly dispatched Point Three above. Certainly, guns are dangerous things. You can shoot all the clay pigeons and bullseyes you want, but we all know they also have a grave purpose, and that is killing things. And if my children's lives are ever threatened by another living being, I'll be damned if I'm going to allow myself to be helpless in that situation. I have an enormous responsibility to keep this weapon safe from curious little hands, and great trepidation related to that knowledge. But my desire to protect my children, should the need ever arise, trumps that by a mile.

Riding back home with my newly purchased gun, the Mommy Instinct again peeked out, causing me to think, "I hope I never look back on this day and regret it." But I can't help thinking how much worse it would be if I had come home empty handed and later was unable to protect myself or my family. I am confident in my ability to handle and store this weapon safely. I wish I were as confident that nothing bad could possibly ever happen to us.