Good morning, y’all. A gorgeous morning here in the mountains with the ground still wet from last night’s thunder bumper. The storm sounded much worse than it was. The thunder echoed off of the mountains making it sound like we were going to get deluged. We didn’t. It looks like a quarter of inch of rain has accumulated in my rain gauge, which is a pittance compared to the noise of the thunder.
It’s funny how things can sound, or appear worse than they are. I guess the reverse is true, too. Some things seem benign on the surface, but are much worse as you peel back the layers. For instance, I walked by Yuri Stinkherr’s trailer this morning on my constitutional. Yuri was sitting on his porch cleaning some sort of long rifle. It could have been one of those 50 caliber sharpshooter rifles for all I know. I just try to look the other way when guns are present. I don’t want anyone to get the idea that I pose a threat to their “Second Amendment” rights.
Anyhow, I’m trying to scoot on past unnoticed when Yuri calls out to me to hold up. He lumbers out to the driveway, rifle still in hand, and asks me if I’d like to go in with him on a surefire investment. Now, I don’t say what immediately comes to mind, “why would anyone invest money with someone living in a trailer park, and that includes me?” Since he’s still holding the gun, I choose the coward’s way out and tell him Mulva controls all of our finances, I don’t even get an allowance. He ponders that thought for a second and then goes on, “It’s a hell of an investment, guaranteed to triple our money in one year”.
Well, I’m an idiot, I have to ask what it is. Turns out, Yuri has seen where that lowlife scum sucking piece of human waste, George Zimmerman is selling the gun that he used to murder Trayvon Martin. The gun is up for auction on a website Yuri frequents. The only problem is, the minimum bid is $5,000. Yuri is a little short, like the $5,000 and whatever the difference between that and the high bid is. He needs a “silent partner” to handle the finances. Well, I’m horrified. I can’t imagine being a part of any of the components of the transaction. Who would ever knowingly do anything to benefit George Zimmerman? Who would want to purchase a murder weapon, even if their interest was strictly financial? Who wants to be a part of the underground movement of weapons through our society? The list goes on and on.
I extract myself from the conversation as quickly as I can and begin my speed walk back towards Number Two. I know I’m not out of range of whatever it was that Yuri was holding, I just hope I left him feeling secure enough that he didn’t feel the need to “win over my heart and mind” the old fashioned way. I make it back safely and plop myself down in front of CNN to see if I can get my heart rate back to normal without medication. Turns out, this is not going to be my day.
CNN is broadcasting a story about a man who killed his brother over a cheeseburger. Seriously. Now, I know the punchline has to involve alcohol, I’m just curious as to how the cheeseburger plays into the story. Seems Mom and the older son had been out drinking for Mother’s Day. When they returned, a struggle ensued between the brothers and the younger son grabbed a gun to settle the argument. The Mom is heard saying to the operator on the 911 call, “I’m going to kill my son.” I assume she meant that one that remained unshot at that point.
Now, I might be taking the easy path here to say that it happened in Florida, what do we expect? Florida has enacted laws that keep the populace from ever feeling like that anyone else can intimidate them. I don’t even need to be getting a whipping like Zimmerman or the younger brother in the cheeseburger story. I just need to be afraid of you, to “stand my ground”, and take your life. If there was ever a law written word for word by the NRA and the gun manufacturers lobby, “Stand your ground” is it. The philosophy is to, “arm them all and let God sort them out”. Seems like the law is going to create a lot more need for emergency services than before, but maybe there are tradeoffs in other areas I don’t see.
Anyway, I’m a large unattractive man, so it’s easy for me to see how I might intimidate a Floridian just by my mere presence. I will be vacationing in other areas, there’s no sense in tempting fate. I hope others follow suit. If we wanted to live in the Old West, we’d been born a hundred and fifty years ago, in the West.