My youngest child is off to college in August. And I'm not saying there's any panic, but this leaves me with barely 12 weeks to get little Johnny a handgun.
Oh sure, handguns can be expensive. And we'd hoped to get him some new clothes. Maybe even some sheets and towels for his dorm room as he begins this magical journey into the world of higher education. But that would mean having to skimp in other areas, such as bullets.
And frankly, what kind of a lousy parent would send a kid off to college in Colorado these days with cheap ammunition?
Not that little Johnny's college handgun is all I think about. Sometimes at night, after the 16,889 gun stores in our village close and I come home, I find myself wondering what I'll say to him on that emotional day when we bid farewell. I think I'll tell him that life holds untold joys. I'll speak of a world filled with hope and wonder.
I'll also tell him that if he accidentally shoots his roommate, he should get the kid's fingerprints on a cafeteria fork and say the punk lunged at him.
Although mostly, I'll focus on that world filled with hope, and wonder stuff.
I've been advised by our family lawyer, Bill Ablhours, not to name the university little Johnny will attend. Because there might be one of those wacky, anti-handgun zealots who'd make a big fuss about their child sharing a dorm room with a kid who has a "If Jesus Didn't Want Us To Have A 9mm Glock Why Did He Give Us A Trigger Finger?" poster on his wall. Plus, my son sleepwalks and smells like gunpowder.
But I will say this: Little Johnny's handgun will have enough stopping power to protect him in case he's savagely attacked by the mascot of this unnamed school. Or if the mascot makes a bluff-charge. Or appears jittery. A mascot like, say, a buffalo.
Background: On April 15 the Colorado Court of Appeals struck down the long-standing and idiotic ban on handguns at the University of Colorado. As we all know, if there's one thing our Founding Fathers demanded it was the right to carry a loaded semi-automatic handgun as we stagger blindly out of a fraternity house and vomit on ourselves.
You know, that and free speech.
The CU Board of Regents has not, however, rescinded its campus handgun ban as it decides whether to challenge the ruling in a higher court. But last week the brave Board of Governors at rival Colorado State University voted to do away with its campus ban on concealed weapons.
This move by CSU is good news for those of us who have long thought, "If I had to live in Fort Collins, I'd shoot myself in the head."
It's not just me who thinks it's about time our young people — who've spent their lives in a dark room playing violent video games while developing no social skills except for occasional grunting and sending text messages to people sitting in the same room with them — are allowed to shuffle sullenly around campus with loaded handguns.
Take our village's daily newspaper, which last week once again trumpeted the joys of firearms. (This required a brief respite from celebrating the apparently great news that the Gazette is now owned by a conglomerate of heartless investment corporations.)
"The dangerous new gun ban at Colorado State University is gone, thanks to a wise decision by the university's board of governors to rescind it," wrote editorial page editor Wayne Laugesen, who then giddily fired 40 rounds from an AK-47 into the vacant room where the circulation department used to work.
The Gazette (motto: "Renew Your Subscription Or We'll Shoot You") went on to repeat its mantra that the way to deal with gun violence is to have more guns.
As a brilliant American leader once said: "You betcha'."
Anyway, I've got three months to get little Johnny a handgun. I've been looking at the really neat nickel-finish Smith & Wesson Model 1911 because it has a seven-round capacity and, well, Johnny loves shiny things.
As a bonus, they say the Model 1911 is so accurate, you can shoot a ping pong ball right out of a plastic beer cup.