What a year

Last year, I think most of us were convinced it was one of the worst years in a long time. For me, I know, there hadn’t been one quite that bad in about twenty years, which is when my husband died.

This one, however, is a doozey.

I was raised with guns. My dad took me to the Hunter’s Safety course when I was a kid, and took me out hunting before my brother was old enough to go. I was a good shot with a rifle, but not so much with a shotgun, and I hate cold weather, and fall and winter are both cold and wet. I whined. He stopped insisting I go, and waited another five years for my brother to be old enough to go. We ate a lot of pheasant, duck, quail, wild turkey, and venison growing up. No rabbit. They were too cute.

So I have no problem with hunting, or even handguns.

But.

I’ve traveled, alone, all over the country for the last dozen years. My dad has tried to convince me to buy a gun. I can shoot – beyond the junior high course – but I don’t want to.

America should be a safe place to live. Americans are so proud of our freedoms, but one of those should be the freedom to travel the country – or even your state, city, or neighborhood, for crying out loud – and not worry that some evil, messed up person is going to pull out a semi-automatic and start shooting up your house, church, school, or you and a bunch of people you have something in common with,  like country music.

And, goddammit, RIP Tom Petty. 🙁 Again.

 

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