Some objects are more sacred than others.
My Daddy bought me my first gun in 2004, a Sig Sauer P229 40 cal with 3 high cap mags, light rail and trijicon night sights. This came from the man who taught me how to whittle, carry a hatchet, bank a fire and have all sorts of adventures in the big woods, but would not allow me to carry a full sized pocket knife when in civilization.
I was his first born, the only girl child in my family, and the only female among all of my 1st cousins till I was in my late teens. I argued with him, and begged and pleaded for a 9mm Glock in high school. He saw no reason for his vegetarian pacifist artist of a daughter to be interested in such things. so the subject was dropped. I went off to Art school, at Kent State and got lost until I woke up years later in the Canyon one day, knowing not who I was, but what I was made of.
Whilst mi Madre was convinced that I only had to wear a bullet proof vest at my new job for insurance reasons (note: the federal government does not take out insurance policies on its business practices) because no one would EVER want to hurt a Park Ranger, mi Padre acknowledged and supported that which was pulling me forward. We were on the same team, just like when I was a small child in Harfleur, always claiming, through bready smiles, that the end of the baguette got caught yet again in the elevator on the way back from the market. (Firearms and Baked goods are of equal importance.)
Some time later I fell in love with a boy. We had the exact same hand guns with the same features, and took this (as well as some other secrets) as a sign of our eternal compatibility. It was not.
My gun totting, tree hugging, granola crunching body broke my wrist whilst sliding across the ice on the way back from the recycle bin. I fractured a tiny moon shaped bone, called the Lunate, and then fractured it over and over again until the marrow seeped out, whilst trying to improve my suddenly declining firearms skills. While my wrist is healed, my grip changed, as did my once passionate love affair. I can shoot a Sig 45 with great accuracy, but the 40 cal just does not sit in my palm as it once did, nor does my love sit inside my soul.
My love told me at one time in the past, that he would buy my Sig from me if I wanted to sell it, so that our matching pistols would always be together, and I could more easily afford a 45. He mentioned this again the other day in an email regarding the final serration of all our belongings. He has a new love, a young love, in his home and, hopefully, in his heart. While I am perfectly blissed out in my life, I would feel more comfortable were he to give his object of affection my entire collection of lingerie then ever give her the opportunity to pull back my 10lb/4.5lb double action/single action trigger.
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Lyrics of the Day by Drive-By Truckers
PIN HITS THE SHELL
You can lie to your Mama,
you can lie to your race
but you can't lie to nobody
with that cold steel in your face.
And the same God that you're so afraid
is gonna send you to hell
is the same one you're gonna answer to
when the pin hits the shell.
Your sister's been blaming everybody.
I don't blame her, man,
I guess I'd blame them too
if you was my brother, man,
I'd probably stand by you.
But you ain't, man, so I got to go my way.
And I ain't gonna crawl upon no high horse
Cause I got thrown off of one
when I was young and I ain't no cowboy
so I ain't going where I don't belong.
It wouldn't do you no good to let you know
that it damned near killed me too
so I ain't gonna mourn for you, man,
now that you're gone.
Me and you, we liked our pills and our whiskey.
But you don't want your head full of either one
when the house gets quiet and dark.
Having fun used to be so damned easy,
racing trains from 2nd Street to Avalon.
Take a trip down memory lane,
You don't see no friendly faces
all the houses have been painted
and nobody knows your name.
It's enough to make a man not want
to be nobody's Daddy,
when all he thinks he's got left to hand down is guilt and shame.
And I ain't gonna crawl upon no high horse........
Cause I got thrown off of one
when I was young and I ain't no cowboy
so I ain't going where I don't belong. I
t wouldn't do you no good to let you know
that it damned near killed me too
so I ain't gonna mourn for you, man,
now that you're gone.
You can lie to your Mama,
you can lie to your race
but you can't lie to nobody
with that cold steel in your face.
And the same God that you're so afraid
is gonna send you to hell
is the same one you're gonna answer to
when the pin hits the shell.
06-11-2008
