The Anti-Police Rioters Finally
Got Me To Buy My First Gun

I bought a gun last weekend. It's not a purchase I wanted to make, and I pray I never have to use it, but with mayhem recently engulfing cities across the United States, I and many others are biting the bullet and purchasing firearms.

Mine is a Springfield 9mm — something small enough to fit in my nightstand or under my driver's seat should I have to visit one of America's many war-torn cities. But it's powerful enough to do the job.

I've pondered the purchase for years but always found a reason to put it off. The carnage that has rocked the country over the last couple of weeks, however, sealed the deal. After all, I have a duty to protect my family as best I can, and when the government's protections begin to break down, a firearm becomes my only option.

It's not that I have anything against guns — quite the opposite. I'm a big believer in the Second Amendment and have defended Americans' right to bear arms in writing. But guns were such a fixture of my youth that, like a kid forced by overzealous parents to play baseball year after year, I walked away at my first opportunity.

My father was an independent gun dealer who had me shooting my Chipmunk rifle at four years old, and my mom's second husband was an avid hunter and gun collector. By the time I was 17, I had shot nearly every gun imaginable, from derringer and Desert Eagle pistols to SKS rifles.

I suppose I enjoyed it all at one point, but it's been 20 years since I fired a live round. I will be heading to the range this week to correct that error. .....