So the Kid approaches me last night as I was with another co-worker  and with a great amount of urgency asks me when can he take the class so he can get his concealed weapons permit.  As I try to come up with the words to let him down easy, he launches on a tirade about something it happened to him and his child earlier that day.  It seems that while at a park with the Kid and a couple of friends, a particularly big sporting sphere flew by near them and the standard fare of cussing between Group One and Sport Sphere Group was initiated. Somehow and after a couple of minutes of trash talking, the ball was launched back at them and missed the Kid’s head by inches which prompted physical retaliation by one of the Kid’s friends.The next thing coming out of the Kid’s mouth was a description on how he would have fed the ball-tosser Mountain Oysters made out of his own genitalia.

Before he could utter another word, I told the Kid that in my opinion he was not ready to carry a concealed weapon. He was not happy to say the least and asked me what I meant by that. I reminded him of the conversation we had earlier and asked him what was the first thing he needed to shed in order to carry a gun but he could not remember so I refreshed his memory: EGO. I told him again that he could not let his ego dictate his actions and that he demonstrated not enough responsibility during the events. He got angry (another bad sign) and asked me what would have I done different if somebody almost hit my son with a ball. The answer caught him by surprise even though for us is obvious: get the boy and leave the area as fast and as far away as possible. He blinked hard, I guess it never entered in his brain that keeping a child safe might involve something other than blasting some caps on some schmuck. I drove the point home by telling him that what i just heard did not show a concerned parent seeking the safety of his progeny but a hot headed youngster who was dissed, had his ego “damaged” and wanted immediate satisfaction even though it was not the smart thing to do.

The sad part was that the Kid still didn’t get it. I was staring at his eyes and that brief moment of surprise faded quick. No light-bulb-moment-of-clarity illuminated his obtuse head. I think he just thought I was being a scared and ornery old fart who did not want to get in trouble.  And he is right, I am afraid for him, for his kid and for innocent bystanders if this guy ever gets to carry a weapon. More likely, if the Kid gets in a situation, his child may have to visit Daddy at a grave site or at Everglades Correctional Institute or even at Raiford State as Daddy waits for the needle.