So when I got my concealed carry permit the other day I was struck by two things. One, I didn’t have to show any ID for the permit. Second, it dawned on me that now the Kentucky State Police had a record of me on file stating I was a gun owner. A record which included my address. How this is different than gun registration escapes me.
I was contemplating these facts when I came home to find my young friend Elise lounging on the couch in the living room. She was staying with me a few days until Ricardo got sprung from the joint. I knew she would be going back to him soon but I wanted to keep her with me as long as possible.
“Oh, Hi Elise! Hey, I just got my concealed carry permit! I am really excited.”
“That’s great Frank! Now you can ride your horses and shoot your guns!”
“That’s right! Maybe I could ride the horses out where you put Ezra, your German Shepard. You could turn me out to pasture too!”
“Don’t say that Frank.”
“I was just joking. Not about Ezra, but about me. I can do that. Make jokes about myself.”
“I know. But it’s not true.”
“I know. Sometimes you have to laugh about these things in order not to cry.”
“You know Frank, some of us are just doing the best we can with what we have.”
I know Elise. I know. I still love you anyway. Now what’s for dinner?