November 11 is Veteran’s Day. It was previously known as Armistice Day. Apparently on the 11th hour of the 11th day in the 11th month they decided to stop killing each other in WWI. I don’t know if it was because the Germans were defeated, or just everyone got tired of the slaughter, but whatever, it kicked of celebrations among the Allies, and cheers back in the good old USA.
November 11 also happens to be my birthday. I just turned 72. I’ve had calls from friends and relatives wishing me a happy birthday. They all want to know what I’m going to do today. My response: as little as possible.
One of my favorite memories was when I turned 11 my father took me out of school, and we went hunting together. My gift that year was a 22 rifle. We hunted rabbits. I got one, learned how to field dress it, and took it home to cook and eat. Tasted kind of like chicken, only drier.
In recent times I’ve shot rabbits that attack our garden. I don’t eat them, just bury them in the woods.
Speaking of guns, the news is covering details of Alex Baldwin’s apparently accidental shooting of a woman working of a movie set. He says he thought he was given a gun with blanks, but it looks like somehow there was a live round in the chamber. How it got there and who is responsible time will tell—or not. Which leads me to wonder if Hollywood can make movies without guns. I suppose they can but would still jazz it up with swords and fisticuffs. Violence is a money maker.
Also, I hear that the Supreme Court will be hearing a case that could allow everyone to pack heat without getting a state’s permission. If they rule that you don’t have to get a permit to carry, then one must assume that when out in public everyone is armed. The next time someone feels threatened out in public and draws their weapon into a circular firing squad, we’ll all be rabbits. I doubt we’ll taste like chicken.