By Pegleg Pete
Just returned home from the NRA Annual Meeting. Snowing like crazy here in Evergreen (suburb of Foulplay).
Well, pards, y'all would have been proud! First, the crowd completely filled an enormous ballroom SRO, then at request of Fire Marshal the overflow was seated in an adjacent room with TV and sound. Heston said they were overwhelmed by the turnout.
The bed wetting protesters were almost non existent at 0930 when we arrived, maybe 25 near main entrance to Adams Mark. Tested a couple ideas on a few, found 'em to be local air heads, so don't know it the Seattle gang or others showed up. Last alert I got said they planned to ring the block holding hands. Must've blinked and missed it. See what the media shows.
Charlton Heston was, to say the least, commanding. A presence. One privileged resolution from the floor droned on and on with some point(?) that lost me. I wasn't alone. He was declared out of order.
Second, Colorado Secretary of State, Ms. Vicki Buckley, an extremely attractive black woman, "I am not a hyphenated American. I am an American!" gave the opening remarks. She drew repeated standing O's. I'm telling you, folks, Vicki Buckley is hated by the Democrats and liberal press here in Colorado, but she is plain spoken and courageous. Keep an eye on her career. She's cut from the same cloth as J.C. Watts.
Third, Wayne LaPierre gave a no holds barred speech on where NRA stands and what it is FOR. His was a ringing, statistic filled indictment of the Clinton Justice Department's absolute refusal to prosecute thousands of felons who violate existing laws; their failure to support Operation Exile, etc.
Finally, Chuck, er Mr. Heston, er Moses delivered a stirring message of why the 2nd Am MUST be defended. You can no doubt download a copy from http://www.nra.org.
The meeting adjourned. Voting closed.
On the way out, figuring the media must be disappointed and all them satellite trucks needed some work, me an' a pal went huntin' some protesters.
There was a motley crew of maybe 50 standin' in a cold drizzle behind the police tape so they couldn't block the sidewalk. Oh, I was dressed in light tan silk jacket, Rush Limbaugh tie, brown wool slacks with brown ostrich loafers and a handmade oak walkin' stick. Stylin', Wicked Willie, stylin'.
So, bein' some on the prod, I rolled up my left pant leg to about mid thigh exposin' somethin' below knee like out of Terminator and waded into the group. Got the attention of about a dozen when I whacked the fibreglass above knee part real loud with the cane. Sounded like a shot.
Then asked 'em: "What ought a gimp do for self defense if you successfully disarm me." One female said: "Hit them with your cane." I asked her: "You ever seen a one leg man in a butt kick contest? No pretty, toots." She gasped while a bunch laughed. Ice was broke. Media moved in.
The cameras were rolling and flashes popping. Seemed like a lot were shooting from the "ground up." Mikes were everywhere whilst me an' a handful of 'em held a polite discourse. A quick follow up shot: "Why do you people hate the disabled? Do we make you uncomfortable with our wheelies and protheses?"
Then, believe it or not, the consensus suddenly was: "Well it might be all right for you to carry a gun if you were properly trained." Another one: "Well, if you were properly licensed." Now rolling, another: "And if you had no record."
So, canary eating cat, said I: "Doesn't that sound exactly like the Colorado "must issue" legislation?"
Course that broke the spell.
Rational thought dried up and the mantra began. But, for just a moment, there was actually a glimmer of communication with a few. The thinkers drifted away, not wantin' any more evil "discrimination" talk.
The rabble remained. Had to remind several that they couldn't talk when it warn't their turn. Soon bored. "To argue with a fool proves there's two."
Spent some time with a newspaper reporter from San Antonio. Don't know what, if anything, the media will show/report, but a bunch of 'em were shore interested fer a while.
Gosh, hope my nose was clean. Might shoulda checked.
Stylin', Wicked Willie, stylin'.
Best,
Pegleg (sat with 'em good ol' boys from Sand Crik Raiders) Pete Bufler
Criker