Jennifer is asking Gun Bloggers about how they ended up being gunnies so I guess I better add my story.

Mine was a long and slow transition. As any kid growing in a country where there was no Gun Culture, I was both fascinated at what I saw on TV and the movies, yet under the heavy influence of “Guns are Bad” and Only Police and Military should have Guns.” Dad was not preachy about guns but Mom was steadfast against Guns and that violence is bad.

When I reached my teens and the obligatory socialist phase one must go through, I was Anti Gun. I saw the violence that Man can inflict upon his fellow human being and I was sold into the whole “Peace” bullcrap. The socialist phase did go away quickly, but there was nothing else out there to anchor myself to. I did not know I was a conservative because the concept was/is not known in those locales.

I had the chance to attend college in Tennessee and here is where I got introduced to guns in a different light. People owned guns without shame! A friend took me to my first gun store after my apartment was broken into and I got cleaned up of my few personal possessions. It was an unreal world to me; back at home, just touching a gun that was not yours could land you in a world of hurt and now I was manipulating a Mini 14 or slobbering over an used shotgun with markings from the Tennessee Department of Corrections (I’ll always be sorry I did not buy that gun!) or constantly petering Carl, the resident gunnie with questions. I eventually bought this little .25 caliber Beretta tilt-up barrel and I became a gun owner.

Still, I was not a gunnie. That came to happen soon after. My downstairs neighbor was in my apartment watching MTV (back when it actually played music and had no fake drama) and we heard banging noises coming from his place. I opened a door and we saw this critter trying to kick his apartment door down and even though we challenged him, he cussed us out and kept at it. The look of pure animal violence in his eyes scared the crap out of me so I ran to my bedroom, grabbed my little Beretta and returned to my front door. By this time, Critter was climbinn the stairs while buddy was trying to “reason” and tell him to go away.

Next thing I know. Critter’s eyes went big with surprise, stammered cusses, did a 180 and flew out the building. I realized that my arm was extended forward, gun was in hand and aiming at the general direction where Critter was a moment ago. It clicked right there: Crime was aborted, Violence was snuffed, I had the answer I was looking for.

Right there and then I was a Gunnie 🙂