Yesterday, before the show, I finally went to go take the Official NRA Basic Pistol course, to qualify for the dreaded Concealed Carry Permit. Now, it's not like I'm going to be packing heat on the way into work or into the studio, although after the last few segments we've done on Islam that might not be a bad idea. Yes, it was the shootings in Seattle that prompted it.
The course was taught by a part-time police officer from Morrison. Naturally, I asked him what a police officer was doing promoting gun ownership and a publicly, if secretly, armed society. Every time one of the states relaxes gun laws, the chief of police and the union president make dire pronouncement about how YouTube will be filled with live re-enactments of My Darling Clementine. That is, if there are any bloggers left who haven't been plugged in the back while they were uploading the video. (Hint: always blog with your back to a wall.) The fact that vendors in DC, where you have to be dead - as in you're a Civil War veteran - to legally own a gun, were selling t-shirts featuring the foreshortened barrel of a revolver with the caption, "Welcome to DC, Sorry We Missed You," somehow escapes their attention.
In fact, he said, most policemen favor responsible concealed carry, for the same reason you do. By the time they get there, most of the time all they can do is take the report, quite possibly from bystanders.
In any event, it went well. I qualified on the gentleman's .22 revolver (small beer compared to my .357), and his Colt .45, 1911, which is responsible for the casts on my forearms. I'm typing this with a pencel held in my mouth.
So on Wedneday, it's downtown to Cop Central to run the background checks and get the permit. Assuming I haven't committed any felonies I don't know about, and now that I've paid off the dog warrants, I'll be cleared to carry.