You Are Not Batman
When I read the news that teachers at the K-12 school in Harrold, Texas would be allowed to come to school carrying guns this year I have to admit, my heart sank.
"The naysayers think (a shooting) won't happen here. If something were to happen here, I'd much rather be calling a parent to tell them that their child is OK because we were able to protect them," Thweatt said.
"The naysayers think (a kissin') don't make a girl pregnant, but we went ahead and made diving helmets mandatory dress code for the prom on account of carefulness."
I don't care about gun rights or school shootings or any of the big important issues surrounding the Second Amendment.
If some dude wants to shove an RPG-7 under his bed to protect his family from radioactive tarantulas that's fine with me. If somebody wants guns banned in their city because celebratory gunfire makes it hard to hear the Logo channel, well, that's fine with me too.
I'm just really tired of Batman.
Not the real Batman. He's fine. I'm talking the fake Batmans. The vigilante wannabes that walk around packing a .45 on their utility belt like Hans Gruber is going to take over Nakatomi Arby's. Open and concealed carry laws have been spreading across the United States for the past decade or so. In the states where the laws pass a tide of potato-shaped guys in polo shirts carrying guns in quick-draw holsters has followed.
They're everywhere, even if they aren't wearing the polo shirts. Earlier this summer I made the mistake of attending a Renaissance festival to appease a friend who is interested in historical recreations of medieval cleavage. The festival was packed into a costume bodice and overflowing with realism, but the event was marred by an incident at the ticket area.
The festival was being held in Indiana and we had the great misfortune to be in line behind one of the state's many Batman imposters. His costume looked like Robin Hood, complete with bow and arrows, but this particular Batman had a Sig Sauer in a quick draw holster on his belt. The anachronism caused a direct conflict with ye olde king's posted "NO GUNS OR ALCOHOL" policy.
A loud argument followed over the big issues like personal liberty and self-defense. This meant me and my friend waiting in line until bike cops arrived to settle the dispute.
Their agreement: he could carry the gun into the Renfest because it was on public property. Unbelievable! Robin Hood and his 10mm get to traipse around the mud fight like King of America, while me and my buddy get mocked by the jester as wizards if we forget to set our cell phone to vibrate.