Sometimes we don't give our friends enough credit. I moved out to Los Angeles and slowly established this firearm addiction
very quietly, unbeknownst to my friends. I slowly let my inner circle in on it, one by one. At first all I had was a handgun (SIG 229 thank you very much), which isn't a huge shock to anyone. To my pleasant surprise, each of my friends acknowledged my hobby with approval, noting we're living in "Riot Central."
Recently, however, I bought an M1A. That's a whole different story to a lot of people: battle rifles aren't your typical "self-defense" gun, especially in the city. But, at a recent gathering, I decided to invite my three best friends back to the room where I keep it stashed. "Check out the new addition," I said, presenting my baby for all to see.
I couldn't read the reactions at first. My one friend, who hails from D.C., I was particularly wary of. After a pause, he picks it up, points it safely into the corner and, holding it properly (!), squints down those marvelous iron sights.
"30 caliber, right?" he asks. Talk about relief! Everyone reverted to "boys and their toys" mode, and I realized that I really hadn't given these guys a chance.
Will they go out shooting with me? Only one of my friends is interested, and only from a historical fascination perspective. But what we forget sometimes, especially us city kids, is that most folks aren't from the city, and even though they may not have been raised in a household with guns, they maybe had an uncle who took 'em out plinking when they were kids.
I am convinced that most folks don't really give a crap one way or the other, and simply look to their peers in these matters. That's why I focus very little on petitions and causes and Supreme Court cases and NRA/GOA/COA/JPFO campaigns, and instead just spend my time acting as a role model for my friends, and working on my skills as a rifleman.
