Guns: Handle With Care

"The second you don't respect this, it kills you." - FBI Special Agent Stanley Goodspeed in The Rock (1996), played by Nicholas Cage.

Last night I was at party (yeah, lets call it that) with some friends (yeah, lets cal them that) setting off some fireworks. They apparently became legal in Rhode Island recently. Lama (yeah, lets call him that) was, shall we say, the chief contributor of explosives. We haven't set off fireworks together since 1997, I think. So I wonder if he was trying to make up for lost time.

We impatiently waited for dark and set off small rockets and poppers to pass the time. But when night finally fell, Lama broke out and big rockets, the mortars, the smiley faces (they all exploded upside down), and others ones with names like "Too Hot to Handel," "Heavy Heavy Fuel," "The Guns of Navarone," and others who's names I don't remember. I have a healthy fear of fire but even I lit off a few mortars.

Our friend (who shall remain nameless) gave us all quite a scare three times when unintentionally/on purpose he dropped mortars into overused tubes. The way Lama explained it was that after too much use the cardboard tube begins to flake and narrow if used in rapid succession. So what ended up happening was:

1. The mortars would jam in the tune.
2. The initial explosion meant to launch the mortar into the air goes off but is not strong enough to dislodge the mortar from the tube.
3. The second explosion meant to create a colorful star in the heavens instead detonates on the ground, sending colorful fireballs in every direction.

The celebration went through midnight. No cops, no injuries and no apparent damage to property. All in all and enjoyable occasion. We took a moment to clean up the place. And then it happened.

Another friend (who shall also remain nameless) decided to make a final contribution to the nights festivities. I was about fifteen feet away but even in dark I could see him brandish his pistol, pick a hemisphere, and fire three rounds into the air.

Several things when through my mind during this:

• When I saw the firearm I was fascinated by it. Earlier that day I had held a bee-bee gun that seemed real enough. Everyone had backed away from him so i assumed this was the real deal. I was exited for him pull the trigger, and then he did.
• The first blast was laud, but muted when compared to the previous explosions. But I became aware of its power. Seeing him compensate against the kickback.
  
• With the second blast I saw the mussel flash. I felt the vibration of the air. My excitement gave way to a frightening realization that should have been obvious: someone could be hurt or killed.
• When the third round fired I remember that alcohol was served at this party. While I did not partake, I wasn't sure about our friend and his state of inebriation.

He lowered his weapon and was immediately approached by other gentlemen who apparently wanted to take their turns. My fear increased when I saw three hands on a gun. My mind flashed back to safety instructions at Mini Boot Camp: "Never have more than two hands on a weapon! When you receive or return your weapon, you do it with one hand. This way there are never more than two hands on a weapon. Decreasing the chances of a [frack] up." (I should mention this was high school, we were cadets, and the guns were jammed; we never fired any.)

I started walking away. I stopped near Lama's car. He was my ride back. I took a moment to imagine a round going through my head, the mess that it would make, and wondering how hard it would be to clean up. I am satisfied with m life so far, so I guess I was all set there, but the mess!

No one was hurt, nothing was damaged, but this event did give me pause, and a deeper respect for firearms. In many ways I guess I was naive and desensitized by what I see in movies and video games. I'll clean up the mess right after I re-spawn.

I should also make note that last night I failed as a Christian. I didn't make a single occasion to talk about God, invite anyone to my church, or even actively identify myself as a believer. What would Jesus do when he saw the gun? I'm certain I failed there too.

Even after last night there are parts of me that still want to buy a P-90. But after sensing just part of a gun's the destructive power I'm not sure I could ever bring myself about to using one.

Bottom line: fun times and no one was hurt, but I have a lot to think about. I'd appreciate any comments.