Call Me Big Gram
by Marian Brooks
I am certain
that it’s rare to see a 70 year old
grandmother at a gun show. Yet, there I was with
my friend Elaine. We looked like Thelma and
Louise planning a bank robbery. The ratio of men
to women at the Oaks Gun Show on Sunday was about
three hundred to one although we hadn’t
thought of this as a venue to meet guys. Most
of them had huge stomachs, scruffy beards, no
hair and lots of missing teeth. On display were
gutting knives (also good for slicing brisket),
swords, assault weapons, gas masks, thousands of
hand guns and strawberry smoothies. If you wanted
to know how to murder someone or how to preserve
wild berries, there were detailed instruction
manuals available for both.
I was
distressed to see one booth with swastikas, SS
insignia and German WW II helmets. I resisted the
impulse to strike the vendor with one of the
eagle’s head canes nearby. My decision to
purchase a gun moved into sharper focus.
With a mixture
of fascination, revulsion and fear, excitement
and awe we walked up and down aisles of
ammunition and rifles until we met Bill.
Bill was short,
clean-cut and pleasant and he didn’t laugh
at us. He owned a gun shop about 20 miles away.
We were checking out small handguns for self
protection if necessary but had no idea what we
needed. Bill was very patient. He explained
that pistols have magazines which you load into
the bottom, making a reassuring snap. Think Law
and Order and Glocks. Revolvers, on the other
hand, have cylinders which click and spin. You
just open the gun and load the ammo. Think Clint
Eastwood and Westerns. I suppose we were the only
two people for whom this was news. One of
our main challenges though would be how to
remember where we’d stashed the guns and
ammo once we had them. Elaine wanted to be able
to carry her gun with her. Given the news
recently, I could see her point. We found the 357
Magnum too heavy and the trigger, difficult to
pull. The Smith & Wesson 38 was lighter,
made of Titanium and featured a laser beam so
that the bullet would have a reasonable shot at
reaching the target. The guns did not come in
colors. No senior discount on weekends. We told
Bill that we would visit his shop in the near
future.
Somewhere
along the way, Elaine purchased jewelry cleaner
and beef Jerky for her son. We both bought
pepper spray.
After two
hours, Elaine’s feet were hurting and my
back ached.
Once at home,
I opened the freezer and filled a bowl with Death
by Chocolate ice cream. That’s how I
want to go.
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