Spencer Farris, The Levison Group
It is no fun watching the television in the Levison Towers media room the last few weeks. Either there is another shooting in the news, or another store hawking a holiday sale. I have to choose between being sad and being disgusted, which is a poor choice at the most wonderful time of the year. From Black Friday to Small business Saturday, Cyber Monday to Free Shipping Day, I am about holidayed out a full week before the real celebration even begins. Humbug.
Not surprisingly, the talk of gun control is prominent in the news. Where I come from, gun control meant hittin’ where you was aimin’. Many of my friends from back home call to ask about the Second Amendment and what it means. When I try to explain as best I can — not a lot of militia talk among personal injury lawyers these days — their eyes glaze over. The real question they want answered is, “Can the gubmint take my guns away?”
The answer of course is probably not. The vagueness of the Second Amendment, written by 18th century musketmen, gives folks with guns all the ammo they need to argue that all guns are created equal. Having hunted most of my life, I am not sure I see sense of assault weapons in civilian hands. I have never yet needed a thirty round magazine for any game I was hunting, and anyone can testify that I am not a great shot. Then again, Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia thinks that owning a rocket launcher may be protected under the Constitution. The Second Amendment has something for everyone, except for clarity.
Shopping and guns came together for me this holiday season in a different way. My wife called in sick to work last week. Since she works from home, it takes quite a bug to keep her from getting things done. That combined with her type AA personality keeps most illnesses at bay. This year, flu got the upper hand. But on Tuesday, after a day in bed, sickness was her second enemy. Squirrels were now her first.
Squirrels had been dancing on the roof of our bedroom, carefully dropping nuts or scurrying across the skylight just as she dozed off to sleep. She would wake with a start, and there the bushytails were, laughing at her through the window. It was enough to make a pacifist take up arms. Squirrels don’t scare off easily, and most of the ways to get rid of them strike me as inhumane. A well placed BB, however, will either frighten them off or kill them. I had been advocating for a BB gun for weeks, much like the kid in “A Christmas Story.” My wife wasn’t having any part of it. Until she got sick.
She sent me a text message midday; “Forget what I said about buying more guns. I don’t care what it takes to kill these things. Buy it. I want them gone.” These words were sweeter than Shakespeare to this gun nut. I figured it would be pushing my luck to ask for a rocket launcher, and Scalia isn’t returning my calls these days, so the legality was too iffy.
Shooting a real firearm is prohibited in my town. Air guns on the other hand, are not. And I didn’t own an airgun, which meant a wife-sanctioned new gun! “Go buy a gun” are the sexiest four words she has ever uttered. I couldn’t wait.
She called me later on my cell phone to ask why I didn’t answer the phone at work. “Can’t,” I said. “Gotta get an air gun before you change your mind.” And so it went.
My haste in trekking to the sporting goods store in furtherance of my Founding Father/beloved spouse-given Second Amendment right caused me to forget, and therefore run afoul of my first rule of December: avoid shopping centers. Holiday shopping is much less crowded online. Still, committed to the hunt as I was, I forged ahead. In sporting goods stores, especially in the gun department, folks were noticeably friendlier than in the mall parking lot. Perhaps because we all wondered who was packing heat and who wasn’t.
Airguns come in many forms. There was a classic RedRyder, and an assault rifle impersonator. My chosen airgun spit projectiles at 1100 feet per second, which seemed fast enough. I was pretty sure squirrels moved slower than that.
The checkout lady didn’t ask to see ID, nor if I was 21 before ringing up my sale. Either I or the new gun were perceived harmless.
I made my purchase, and headed home. I wondered if the Founding Fathers had me in mind when they wrote the Second Amendment. My new air rifle shoots farther and more accurately than anything they had ever seen. I wondered how many squirrels would soon be vanquished. I wondered if the Second Amendment could even get passed today. I did not wonder about the Due Process rights of my varmint intendeds,
however. Justice would be swift — 1100 feet per second to be precise. And if the little beggars form a militia, I will be ready.
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©2012 Under Analysis llc. Under Analysis is a nationally syndicated column of the Levison Group. Spencer Farris is the founding partner of The S.E. Farris Law Firm in St Louis, Missouri. No squirrels were harmed in the writing of this column. Yet. Comments or criticisms about this column may be sent c/o this newspaper or directly to the Levison Group via email at comments@levisongroup.com.
