Another commentary for the “when I was kid” file. It is amazing how similar all these “when I was a kid” stories sound when read back to back. CLICK LINK HERE
Here is one for the brain dead safe-storage Bolsheviks who believe one-size-fits-all Nanny State Government is good public policy.
This kid was trained, prepared and effective. It was always thus and will be thus always.
Nanny State Nitwits go pound sand.
The father’s comment is particularly appropriate. “ I trained him to use guns because everything on this ranch will bite you or stick you.”
Way to go Dad!
In different circumstances, compare and contrast the outcome for Ashley Carpenter, age 9, and John William Carpenter, age 7, who sacrificed their lives when called to defend their family without the equipment necessary to prevail.
Tantalizing excerpt to alligator story:
Friday , October 02, 2009
Texas-born Simon Hughes, 5, doesn’t look intimidating.
But put a gun in his hands and pit him against an 800-pound alligator and it’s a different story.
Simon’s been training to handle a gun since he was just 4, his dad told MyFOXHouston — and it’s a good thing, too, or else he could’ve gotten hurt by the mega-gator that wound up on the Hughes family ranch.
Lew Rockwell.Com points us all to a terrific column by Paul Craig Roberts about his childhood and the 2nd Amendment.
While from a slightly different generation, many of his memories ring true with me.
There was ALWAYS a shotgun in the hall closet in a house full of six siblings and all the neighborhood children who were loose to engage in whatever activity of the day attracted them to our neck of the woods (which would include the occasional Eddie Haskell type).
To the best of my memory there was not a single incident of any kind with that fearsome weapon of mass destruction.
How in the world have those times come to these times?
How Things Change Out From Under Us
by Paul Craig Roberts
When I was a kid there were no age limits to the Second Amendment. We all had firearms before we reached puberty. Anyone with the money could purchase a .22 caliber rifle at the local hardware store. If you were too young to see over the counter, the proprietor might call your parents to get an OK. You could purchase .22 caliber ammunition and shotgun shells at most any gas station.
None of us ever shot anyone or any farmer’s cow or mule. There were no gun accidents among my armed companions.
My grandmother never batted an eye when I walked out of her farmhouse with my grandfather’s shotgun. Guns were just a routine item. We all learned gun safety from the Boy Scouts. My grandmother only became concerned for my safety when I became the proud owner of a spirited horse.
If the attitudes that exist today had been around when I was coming along, my entire generation would be felons. I had my first altercation at the age of three. Bullies were ever present. A kid had to steel himself against them. At six years of age I learned that, Lone Ranger and Roy Rogers bravado notwithstanding, an older and stronger kid was just that.
Link to the complete article: