A CONFESSION FOLLOWED BY SMUGNESS

Perhaps I should begin this with a bit of confession. They say it's good for the soul, and my soul can use all the good it can get.

Sheryl does it all. There. I've said it. I don't know how to create the pretty backgrounds, set up the whole thing, arrange it on the page, etc. Only Sheryl knows those things. She even named this blog back in October or whenever it was that I started it. I enjoyed reading all of yours and she got the bright idea that maybe I should have a blog of my own. So she set it up, named it, and pointed out its existence to me. All I provide are the words. And a few photos. And some screwy ideas.

Before I start throwing old pictures at you (a privilege of age,) let me make one smug comment. Not wanting to start a whole big magilla with a very dear fellow who shall remain - er, uh, - my brother, I shall not refer to anyone by name here. I just want to establish what has happened and let you see how remarkably benign I've been about the whole thing, especially considering that it's ME, the most curmudgeonly of curmudgeons.

So, there was this very dear relative who told me during the recent election campaign that I could take seriously the pro-gun comments made by a certain young senator from Illinois. This dear relative even went so far as to say that, if that senator were to become the chief executive of the land and then make anti-gun moves, he, the dear relative, would personally buy for me the firearm of my choice. You cannot imagine how the greed lept in my chest! Mentally I leafed through all the catalogues I have ever looked through and started trying to narrow down the list of desirable firearms to just one. This was, after all, a rare opportunity for a guy who lives on a "fixed income," as the saying goes. I once owned nearly thirty firearms of varying types, calibers, purposes, finishes, and nationalities. But for a couple of years I've been stuck at four. Just four. Imagine the humility this has required of me! But now, there would be another piece of blued steel (or possibly stainless) in the Haeberle arsenal.

I knew it. I knew it as surely as I knew that I was fat, bald, and grey. And, because I knew the voting record of the young senator from Illinois, I knew that his new chair in the oval office would barely be warm before he started signing anti-gun bills. IF. IF they could get past Congress. Several times I actually giggled with greedy anticipation. But then my conscience got to me. Ever look closely at that word? If you take it apart, it means "with knowledge." And there I was, taking advantage of my dear relative with the perfect knowledge that he had overstated his case. I knew before the election ever happened that he would lose this sort-of-a-bet.

Besides, I really like this dear relative. He's a pleasant-spoken, quick-witted, fun sort of a guy to be around. So I sent him a private email and told him I'd let him off the hook. After all, he has a young family, and money is an increasingly scarce commodity these days.

Now my conscience feels better. But today I got a couple of emails from other sources which prove conclusively that the new majority party has lots of nasty things in store for America's gun owners. No outright confiscations. Yet. But long lists of legal firearms are on the chopping block even as we blog. Yep. You can buy them today, but in a month or two they could be illegal. Your personal goodness won't matter at all. Your good intentions will not even be consulted. Because some legislators whom you don't know think somebody might misuse them, dozens of firearms will become illegal. Millions of us will suddenly have our freedom curtailed just one more inch. But my decision has been made. I'll follow my conscience. This time.