You know the way it is, people 'phone in to send Easter greetings and it's all well and good. So it was with me, lovely to hear from old friends and family, including a close relative who persists in the Motor City experience. Our conversation ran something like this:
"Alright LSP, happy Easter!"
"Alright chap, great to hear from you! How's it going?"
"Good, you know, church, work..."
"Well, that's Easter for you."
"Yeah, you know..." awkward silence, then the first animal is jettisoned, if you'll forgive the phrase, "Yeah, I've gotta go to court on Tuesday."
"Oh."
"My shotgun went off."
"Ah."
"I've hired a lawyer."
"Right. So you'd been drinking?"
"Unnh, yennh."
"Just tell them that it went off in your back yard while you were cleaning it," said I, innocently. "Uonh, but it wasn't in my house," replied the gunman. "What do you mean, 'it wasn't in my house'?"
"No, it was, ummm, in an abandoned building down the road." He was feeling sheepish, you see, "But no-one was hurt!"
"Well that's alright then," I replied, as gruesome pictures flashed through the LSP cranium, "You know, there's this basic rule - don't mix booze, ammo, guns and the ghetto; keep them all separate, old boy.It's important."
"Yeah, well, they've got my shotgun now..."
"That's probably a good thing..."
There you go, an everyday tale of life in central Detroit. The wonder of it is that anyone bothered to call the police and a miracle that no-one was hurt. Why was he messing around with a loaded gun in the ghetto, we ask ourselves? Who knows - exploring, probably.
I tell you, much as I enjoy firearms (a lot) and support 2nd Amendment rights and say 'no' to the nanny state, 'progressives' etc. - I sometimes have to wonder if certain people are qualified to own weapons. Also, it seems to me that the holy Guardian Angels, which I believe in, have a vastly unfair workload.
I, for one, was fortunate to leave Detroit unscathed. But that was a very long time ago.
Shoot safe.
LSP
