on the long drive home from the mountains, Gavin and I are playing the "what will we do when our ship comes in" dream game--so much nicer than the "what will we do when we win the lottery" dream game, though essentially identical.
me: "when our ship comes in should we build a mini-golf course in our back yard?"
Gavin: "naw, that's something you pay for once and a while rather than have all the time. I'd rather have skeet shooting or something."
me: "but when your ship comes in, you'd still be married to your wife, so I think skeet shooting's pretty much out."
Gavin: "but they're clay pigeons, not real."
me: "but you'd be using guns."
Gavin: "heh I guess I'd better not tell you what I already have under the house, then."
me: "ha ha ha."
Gavin: "I have thought about owning a gun before but I decided it's just too dangerous. not for the kids or anything, but for me."
me: "but you thought it would be nice to keep the burglars out?"
Gavin: "mostly in case of a huge fire or earthquake when there could be a period of lawlessness and people walking around looting and stealing money from each other."
me: "that could be kind of smart. so you could protect us from the looters."
Gavin: "no, so I could be one of those people stealing money."
Gavin, a moment later: "you can use this for your blog if you want."
I think all men have a fascination with firearms. But when we stop and think about it, very few of us have what it must take to pull the trigger on a living creature. I think that is what is so cool about the Dirty Harry movies, how completely comfortable Clint Eastwood is while shooting at people with that 357.
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