I hopped out of bed this morning, excited about my afternoon trip to the shooting range with A. I’ve never shot a gun before, and I was feeling simultaneously excited, scared and disgusted about the outing. I decided to work off some of that confused energy with a speedy bike ride to Tulane’s Reilly Student Recreation Center where I could pump some iron. Today, unfortunately, was Ripples Summer Camp Color Wars. I had trouble figuring this out for awhile. I mean, all those kids in green? Isn’t St. Patrick’s Day in March? Why are half the kids in blue, chanting, “Blue.S.A!”? The Olympics are next month, and it’s, ahem, U.S.A. Please. Compared to the tranquil bike ride through Audubon Park, this was trouble. And then I saw a few camp counselors dressed like this young man. I suppose he’s with the green team. Given the context of New Orleans, though, I’m not sure how many kids find a military presence particularly soothing. I know I was a bit disturbed, seeing his fake (unless the ROTC is bringing real artillery to the Color Wars) gun in my gym. These are kids, man! This is a gymnasium! We are a peaceful step aerobicizing, iron pushing, ellipticizing crowd. No room for guns. I was happy to get back on my bike and leave the screeching and warring behind. If it’s guns you’re after, I suggest going where guns belong: the Jefferson Gun Outlet and Range.
Remember now, no “concealed carry”. I learned to fire a gun on a computer date in Seattle with a retired cop. Sadly the picture he had posted on the net was from at least 15 years before. Remember to fire right to the heart for the ultimate kill and wear pink. It looks more impressive.
Center of mass. Always.