The Borer household packed up and headed to my parents’ house for the weekend. On Saturday, while my parents took the kids to the museum “to look at all the dead animals,” (Linus) David and I took the opportunity to walk around downtown. We checked out a few antiques stores, then headed to the bookstore. (All the while trying to avoid the gigantic Obama shrine set up in the middle of the store. One of the Obama books was titled, “Barack Obama is Your New Bicycle: 366 Ways He Really Cares.” Each page has four sentences, such as “Barack Obama cooked your breakfast. Barack Obama raked your leaves”, etc… Um, should we call this a mixture of wishful thinking and the entitlement mentality gone wild? Sheesh.)
So, after awhile we decided to head over to the coffee shop next door for some heat and nourishment. Now, David and I are not fools, and we realize the type of individuals who tend to haunt the recesses of most coffee shops. However, we were largely unprepared. The Lib Level was at about 9.5 out of 10. After giving my order to the strangely dressed girl, with sagging jeans, multiple facial piercings, gummy hair, and visible chip on shoulder, I immediately felt out of place for having showered that morning. After we got our drinks, we sat down at one of the tables and sat back to take it all in. We got to listen to the college boy next to us talking about all the “POSs” at the local college, “who just don’t respect it.” We saw multiple youngsters (by our standards) dressed in their vintage rags and with an air of general pissed-offedness sidle in two by two. Everyone was so, well, pessimistic. They seemed enraged. Why? Who knows.
My main regret, (besides making eye contact and smiling) was that I didn’t wear my Palin t-shirt, and David didn’t wear his NRA hat.
We scooted on out of there, and subsequently found ourselves in the gun shop a block over. It’s as if our subconscious natures fled toward a place where we’d find reprieve from the dourness. And find it we did. One the front of the gun shop was a sign: The age of Obama is here; get them while you can. On the front door was a sign: Notice Concealed weapons are ALLOWED. Upon entering, a man cheerfully greeted us—actually making eye contact—and asked if we needed anything. It was bright and cheerful and optimistic, and I was so inspired that I actually almost bought a camoflauged t-shirt. (Almost bought.) I did buy some pepper-spray, however, to arm myself with when I run outside. Hey, you never know.
It was an interesting social experiment, and David and I shared a laugh over it. I’m not trying to pigeonhole anyone. I’m really not against piercings or strange clothes. It’s just that the differences between the two businesses were so stark. It was blogworthy.
In this vein, Ruth Bader-Ginsburg has pancreatic cancer. A new Supreme Court Justice is probably going to be chosen by Obama. What repercussions on our second amendment right? Obama, Ginsburg, and Guns.
Since the election, gun sales have been through the roof. Isn’t it sort of a comfort to know that millions of Americans are arming themselves to the teeth?