Friday Morning: Moose, Firearms, and Terrorists

Good morning. I have the radio on, as I type this, and it occurs to me that there are probably not many other cities where the morning traffic reports include moose (and, occasionally, bear) warnings.

The winter solstice is rapidly approaching, and most Anchorage denizens are showing suns of sunlight deprivation. There are only about 4 3/4 hours between sunrise and sunset now, and it will be down to 4 1/2 by the 21st. We really, really need some sunny days, but we also need snow. It's a problem that folks in the Lower 48 don't usually face, but it's a real thing for us.

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The news, and the ongoing coverage about the San Bernadino terror attack this morning made me think about the times in which we live. I carry concealed anytime I step out my door. Those who would rather that people leave those "nasty guns" elsewhere are, IMHO, living in denial. With Mexican drug cartels using Anchorage (among other cities) as a distribution point; with bears, moose, and wolves in town, it's just prudence on my part. My safety, and that of my family, are my primary motivation for carrying a firearm.

There is no on-site security for the property I manage, and I assume responsibility for that, as well. I fervently pray that I never have to draw my weapon for any reason other than target practice ... but I will not assume that it won't happen. Sors ventus qui es paratus.


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But since we're on the topic of firearms ...

A lady I work with has known me for years now, and we have a great relationship. Some time ago, she saw my holster sticking out from under the tail of my vest, when I was retrieving papers from the floor.

She got a little pale, and said, "Is that a holster? I hope you don't have a gun in that thing. Guns make me nervous." I tried to keep a straight face while answering that it wouldn't make much sense to wear an empty holster.

I asked her if I make her nervous, and she said no. I gently pointed out that the firearm is an inanimate tool, and that it obeys my commands. While she thought that over, I said, "If I'm trustworthy, then you needn't fear any tool I might use. A hammer, a screwdriver, a cordless drill - all could be dangerous, in the wrong hands."

She allowed as how that's true, and then said, "And you were in the military, so I guess it's okay."

Baby steps ... sigh. But at least those steps are in the right direction: I'll take that conversation as one minor victory.