What Gun Control Means at Casa de Crazy*

*Update below.

On Thursday afternoon, T was shot.

By a gun.

Not a water gun.

A .45, with a hollow point bullet.

He was in the car with his best friend, J.  J buys and trades firearms.  He is reasonably intelligent and safe, but on Thursday something went wrong.  While he was inspecting this particular firearm that (as I understand it) he'd just bought, checking the slide, the firearm...well...fired.  That was unexpected.  It should have been empty.  Who sells a loaded weapon?  And then doesn't tell the buyer it's loaded?

The bullet was one of the particularly horrid sort, a hollow point, designed to do as much damage as it can while it tears through flesh.

In T's case, it went into his abdomen, in one side and out the other.  Because of the very close range, it didn't have a chance to blossom into the little nugget of destruction it was designed to be.  Because it rocketed through soft tissue, it did relatively little damage, all things considered.

T took a helicopter ride to a level 1 trauma center and had some surgery performed on him.

There may be some long term repercussions - he lost some...er...to put it delicately...innards...and there's a concern of infection, but overall things are nowhere near as devastating as they could have been, and for that we are grateful.

So this happened on Thursday, as I was at Mum's sort of keeping her company and cooking dinner - she broke her leg on Monday and has been subsisting on soup and yoghurt, a home cooked meal was in order.  I received the call as I was slathering butter on the chickens I planned to roast.  My hands were all buttery and I almost didn't answer my phone, but a call from my sister-out-law is unusual so I picked up, butter and all.

I didn't immediately drive down - to what purpose?  He would be out cold for a while, and there were already people there with him, people who love him and would let me know if there really was a need to go NOW.  I didn't tell The Evil Genius about his father, because why let him worry all night?   We would go the next day, Friday, and I would let him know what happened while we were driving.  Had things gone bad, I would have told him what was up and driven us down to the trauma center, but they didn't.

With luck, T will be out of the SICU today, and perhaps out of the hospital next week.  The Evil Genius and I went to see him yesterday and will try to go again tomorrow if I can find a sitter for Sprout.

I wouldn't be me if I didn't turn this into a teachable moment.

So, on the way to see T, the Evil Genius and I talked about our "Rules of Guns".  These are OUR rules and may not mesh with other peoples' rules, but hopefully they will stick with him and save him experiencing what T and his friend J are experiencing now.

Guns are not toys.
Always maintain your gun.
The gun is always loaded, even when it isn't.
Never point a gun unless you intend to shoot.*
Never shoot unless you shoot to kill.*
Never take a life unless it is to feed your family or in defense of yourself or another.
Always honor the life you take.

My idea of gun control is to be in control of your firearm.  I don't like them.  I won't use them.  I'll cut a bitch, but shoot?  No.  I won't own one because at best it would gather dust and at worst it would arm an assailant because I wouldn't use it.  That said, I don't have anything against anyone else having one if they are safe and sensible with it.  I don't blame the hammer for smashing my thumb, I blame my use of it.  I feel the same way about firearms - I don't blame the object for the results of its use.

Speaking of blame - I don't blame J for this.  Perhaps neither of them were as cautious as they could have been.  Certainly the man who handed J a loaded firearm had an obligation to TELL him!  Everyone involved will very likely exercise more caution in the future, and life will go on as life does.  I am as worried about J as I am T - they'll both have scars after this.

If you'e the praying kind, the blessing kind, then sparing a bit of love, compassion, and healing energy for T would be much appreciated - I'm a damn good witch but I can only do so much.

*Update the first - T is out of the ICU and in a regular room.  He is in good spirits.  He should recover fully.  Tomorrow he may be given his first semi-solid food, mashed potatoes!  I'm bringing him some home made chicken broth and some chicken soup, with doctor's permission, later this week.

Update the second - T was rousted by the PT folks yesterday and marched up and down the hall in his terribly fashionable open-backed hospital gown.  Alas, I was not there to take photographs with which to blackmail him later.

Update the third - T is out of the hospital and heading home for the remainder of his recovery, woot!!!

*I was recently mocked for this because what about cleaning or target shooting?  "Oh, well, I guess I have to kill someone every time I pick up my gun!"  You know what?  Laugh.  That kind of foolery is what gets people killed, because it makes it easy to dismiss safety and responsibility.  As far as I'm concerned, guns aren't funny.  If you can't follow a few simple safety guidelines, I'm not sure I want you in my home or if I want to be in yours.  Fuck me for NOT wanting me or my children to be part of a horrid statistic.  

Once more into the breach, dear friends.

I hope that nothing I write here will offend anyone - but I'm fairly certain that it will. I hope it won't run anyone off, but it's a risk I am obviously willing to take. It is, after all, my blog, a place for me to write the things rattling around in my head and set them loose to bother someone else for a while so I can have a nap. I am afraid that this will be long, because it's not an easy subject for me to discuss, and I haven't really had an opportunity to reach any sort of clarity with it. Hopefully it'll be worth enduring, and also give you pause for thought. It's OK if you don't agree with me...sometimes I don't think I make any sense, either.

First, a little history on how I got to writing this post, because you may need a little help sleeping: Because I am such a slacker fabulous mum, I have spent a large chunk of my day an hour or so meandering around Blogopolis. I was doing my usual daily perusal of sites, hopping from one to another with an ease born of familiarity. On my way through Dad Gone Mad (a Daddy blog worth reading, even if I am a mum) and decided to check out his forums. I'm a sucker for a well developed forum. One of them has links to folks needing help and support - causes that DGM's readers think are worth time and/or money. One of the people I already knew about, and posted about her here a while back - Crystal from Boobs, Injuries, and Dr. Pepper. The other two, I hadn't heard of, but being the intrusive curious critter that I am, I went on over and looked.

I read this post, and then poked around a little more on the blog, and it sparked some thoughts. Lucky, lucky you, I am now going to share them.

First, I think it despicable that anyone would use the court system as a means of vengeance. It's called the Justice System for a reason. Carrying out personal vendettas against others by lambasting them with legal fees, calls to court, lies and obfuscation is cowardly. Using a person's religion, politics, or beliefs in personal freedom against them in an effort to show them unfit is equally cowardly. Threatening to take children away from a mum simply because he doesn't want her to have them make a man less a man and more...well, honestly, I can't think what. There's not a critter in the animal kingdom low enough, and I wouldn't like to insult another life form by making a comparison. *Edit - this is equally true of women using the tactic against daddies. If you continually lose, you might want to reexamine your whole basis of complaint. Also, when you have made children, your first responsibility will always be to them and their needs, whether you like who the kids are with or not.

Granted, I don't know the folks over at Anarchangel, and am writing this after reading only their POV, but I am OK with being lopsided and biased a little. It balances out my constant need to be fair elsewhere.

So I think it stinks to high heaven that someone can use their financial means to try and wrench kids from their parents, and cases like this are a prime example of why people with real legal needs are often left in the dust, with no recourse but to take the kids and run or just give up.

Even if this particular tale hadn't set me off, there are others. Cases where divorcing parents have used religion as a means to take children away from each other (it was OK to be Pagan while we were married, but now that I'm dumping her for someone my mommy likes better, her Paganism is a means for her to corrupt and abuse my children, and no I don't think her clean, loving, smoke free home is a better place than my beer-fueled-nightly-tirade-filled-half-a-trailer, your honor, because I'm Christian and that's my trump card. Burp.)(I know that's offensive - but it happened. To someone I know. Not a friend of a friend. Someone I actually know.)(Although perhaps I am exaggerating a mite...I'm pretty sure he didn't actually burp in court, or admit that he was an alcoholic, drug using, spouse and child abusing asshole to the judge, and the only reason he wanted the kids was to hurt her and get child support. And the only basis he had for complaint was that she was Pagan. Which was fine with him until he started cheating on her with a teenage waitress. Oh, yes he did. Springer episode in two parts, truly)(And while it may seem like I'm generalizing about a religion here, I don't mean to - I have Christian family and friends whom I adore and who love me no matter who, where, or how I worship, bless 'em) make me angry.

So it isn't about religion for these folks...it amounts to the same thing - a strongly held belief in personal freedom and responsibility being used against someone to try and punish them. Please. Keeping a gun in the house isn't abuse - beating your child bloody, making their life hell, verbally abusing them, sexually abusing them, or allowing others to do so - that's abuse. A gun in the house needn't be any more dangerous than keeping a butcher's knife.

Enough - I am getting myself all riled up.

The second thing I thought about was gun ownership. I am a staunch supporter of the Bill of Rights and believe in personal freedom and responsibility above law. I think a government should protect the borders of its nation, enact and enforce the laws of its citizenry, and always remember that it serves the nation's people, not itself. Hah!! I believe that people should be permitted, if they so choose, to own, carry, and even use when necessary, firearms.

My father hunts. My brother used to hunt, and would still if he had the time. My father-in-law hunts. I benefit from the skills of the hunters who use my mum's land, because they are kind enough to share venison with her, and she with me. I grew up in a home with rifles, shotguns, handguns, crossbows, and knives. For all I know, there was a cannon in my grandfather's attic - we are sea-faring folk, after all. I ate game animals and birds on a regular basis thanks to the skills of our family hunters. No one ever got shot, either by accident or on purpose. I even learned to shoot - first with a .22 rifle, then a .22 handgun. I wasn't all that bad, either.

Having said all that...oh, dear...I must admit here that...sigh... I don't like handguns. Hunting guns are different - they provide food, and my philosophy has no difficulty with that. It's the handguns that bother me.

Life is so complex, so special, so very unlikely that I have difficulty with anything that makes it so easy to take away. Guns are...impersonal. I feel that if you simply must take a life, it should have meaning and be deeply personal. It should never be easy. It should take thought, effort, a consciousness of your act. It should be visceral. There, I've said it. Of course I know that's insane. I don't hold with going around killing folks for kicks, or to take what they've earned but you want to steal. It's all terribly wrong to me.

Because of the way I feel, I don't believe that I could use a gun on another human. Because I don't believe I could use a gun on another human being, I will not carry one. This make T unhappy. He wishes I would. He used to ask me to, but has given up on it (at least for now). I won't though. Carrying a weapon you won't use is just another way of arming the thugs. I'd carry a knife if they gave permits for that...or better yet, a sword. I am a complete geek, I know. A blade doesn't discomfit me the way a handgun does, though. I believe I could use a blade to defend myself or my family. I could not use a gun.

Because of the way I feel, I am teaching my son what I call The Rules of Guns:
1. You never point a gun at anything unless you intend to shoot it.
2. You never shoot at anything unless you intend to kill it.
3. You never kill anything unless you intend to eat it or it is in defense of your life.

I have no issue with people who hunt and enjoy it - as long as they are not hunting wastefully and for trophies. I do have issues with trophy hunting. I think it's arrogant and disrespectful, at the very least. I don't even have a problem with mounting dead things on the wall, if that's what people are into - as long as the critter once attached to the mounted body parts was actually used for something besides decor. You know - like clothing or stew or something. I believe that a life taken must be used to its utmost, or it is dishonored, as is the one who took it. Maybe I should make a fourth rule - always honor the life you've taken.

I have not banned guns from the house. I think it's important that Bird learns that they exist, that there are rules and consequences to them, and that he has to obey these rules or suffer the consequences. Come to think of it, I think everyone who has a gun of any sort should learn those things. I don't refuse to associate with people who keep and carry handguns or other firearms. I know that most owners are careful, responsible, rational people, and I do feel safer sometimes knowing they're there - if you'd been some of the places I have, you might feel the same.

I don't yell at my son for playing "guns" with his fingers or sticks or whatever - I just quietly remind him of the rules. He may only be five, but he has them memorized and can repeat them with just a little help.

I wish I wasn't such a wuss, so squeamish about them. In the abstract, the power, chemistry, mechanical engineering, and ingenuity that they embody is awesome. I even think some of them have a terrible beauty to them. But I don't like them, so I won't use them. Collect them, perhaps, but not use them. I am told I'd likely change my mind if someone threatened Bird. I don't know. I hope I never find out.

T carries a magnum somethingorother...one of those great big ones. He can do the shooting while I do the dialing-of-911. Yes, I realize that smacks of cowardice and sexism both, but I can own who and what I am, at least in this.

I could go on, but I really do need a shower and a nap, and to let my somewhat overheated brain cool off a bit. Whatever your feelings on the above, I hope you'll go give Anarchagel a read - they've got some terrific geekery that confused me entirely, a few cartoons, and they are refreshingly honest. Also, it's two people sharing one blog, which I find astonishing since I don't even really like sharing a computer with T, never mind a blog!!