Guns and Guitars
The day before Thanksgiving I reveled in a gathering of new friends with old guitars, ate more than I needed, and faced the prospect of my first Turkey Day alone with gratitude for having found this music haven.
But on Thanksgiving morning, headlines detailing the heinous attack on two National Guard members patrolling the nation’s capital dampened my feelings of thanks. The news was laden with laments about our violent culture—including one declaration that the shooting was the fault of liberals who will stop at nothing—not even murder—to get their way.
I am a peace-loving, anti-gun, libtard, who questions the wisdom of citizens being able to obtain and own guns without so much as a test of gun knowledge or shooting ability. We don’t let folks drive a car (or a semi-truck!) without proving they understand the rules of the road and know how to operate a vehicle. Cars are deadly. Guns are deadly. Why doesn’t the same logic apply to both?
The lefties I know don’t condone violence, and wouldn’t carry a gun into a public gathering, let alone fire it at service personnel (or anybody else). Why does the broad daylight killing of two soldiers by a civilian not inspire gun supporters to question the wisdom of easy access to guns, rather than pointing fingers at those of us who keep hollering for stricter gun control laws?
I know people who keep gun safes filled with arms and ammo. Maybe partly because they are fascinated with firearms. But also, because they are afraid of something, although I am not entirely sure what. Snakes? Burglars? Immigrants? The government?
During his presidential campaign, the MAGA chief certainly fanned the flames of fear of foreigners. And since his coronation, the snatching of immigrants by masked ICE agents is enough to make anyone shake in their boots—especially if their skin is brown. And through the deployment of armed guards in cities across the nation, the Commander in Chief signals that crime is rampant. So maybe this hoarding of guns makes some sense—in a surrealistic way.
I have a healthy fear of snakes I don’t recognize. But I don’t feel a need to shoot them. I just stay out of their way. I am more afraid of online burglars than those who might break in and steal…uh…my banjo? My red leather sofa? But alas, I can’t easily shoot cyberspace outlaws. I have no fear of people based solely on skin color—so I’d need to do a background check before shooting. Not very practical, so I’d rather not shoot.
That leaves the government. Yup. Pretty scary. But I don’t care how big the gun safe, it’s no match for taxpayer-funded firepower controlled by the top brass. Still, some would rather kill than be killed—even if they die trying.
An Arkansas friend, who happens to be a Christian minister, once told me he’d rather be killed than take a life. That is the message I received growing up—and rarely hear any more. While I’m thinking (hoping) it is a message my friend discusses in his church, I fear it’s not the mainstream Christian message—not when there is widespread talk about “God-given rights to gun ownership.’’
I’m anxious to get back to my music-making pals, with whom I never talk politics. The act of singing and playing together elevates my spirit like nothing else. Is it an escape from the real world? Perhaps. But maybe if everybody would trade in their guns for guitars, we’d have peace on Earth.