Thoughts from the ammo line

Ammo Grrrll declares: SWEET LAND OF LIBERTY, OF THEE I SING!! She writes:

What a week. What can you say when a Swamp Spokes-Thing tells us that SAYING “Americans are stranded in Afghanistan” is irresponsible? STRANDING them is not irresponsible, but noticing it is. Sigh. Today’s column features a Brief Field Report from what feels like a Foreign Country to prove that “Normal” still exists in America. We must never forget that. It is a country worth saving.

We are summering in Prescott, AZ, our third summer here. Last night, Max – having finished his sixth novel – suggested we have a celebratory meal at one of our favorite eateries and then stroll, or possibly even mosey, about. You have probably heard the ridiculous claim that “70 is the new 40,” with the more accurate addendum that “9:00 pm is the new midnight.” Max and I eat like the geezers we are, with “supper” around 5:00. Sometimes, even 4:30, if that’s the only available time to get into a popular place. But nothing before 4:15. We have our standards. Seriously, 4:00 is our absolute Red Line.

The food was excellent as usual. The waitress was perky, friendly and efficient. The drinks made politics at least slosh to the far reaches of our brains where we store things like the Quadratic Equation and some of the more difficult state capitals. (Montpelier, Vermont? C’mon, Man! It’s French and I have never bothered to learn how to pronounce it…though, I know for a fact that Pierre, SD is pronounced Peer, not Pee-yare.)

We left the restaurant hand in hand and ambled into the sunny blue and green of downtown Prescott. It looked like a Community Theatre Production of The Music Man. There is a large, stately Courthouse, surrounded on all four sides by “mountain greenery” and bronze statues of TOXIC MEN on horses, and monuments to the war dead from Prescott. There are open spaces where families were picnicking. Kids were dripping ice cream cones, and teens were hanging out trying to look cool. There is apparently a local Ordinance that every resident must own between two to seven dogs.

Across from the Courthouse is a vibrant commercial area promisingly called Whiskey Row with several saloons, complete with the swinging doors from our childhood Westerns, clothing stores, jewelry stores, art galleries and hotels. A sign in the window of the jewelry store says, “Your husband called and said you could charge anything you wanted.” (Oh, for SEXIST! Where are the enraged Femi-ninnies to shield us from such humor?)

The Gun Store – one of many – has a bold sign out front that says, “Guns are the reason America is free.” So were 30-40 people shot like in Chicago every weekend? Nope. There we see an obvious rancher family come to town, boots and hats, husband and wife both open carrying. Odds are good that at least 50 percent of the crowd was carrying concealed. Everybody smiling, happy and friendly, greeting strangers. A sweet young woman with the obligatory dog said to me out of the blue, “You have a warm, radiant smile.” She could tell that because I was not wearing a face burqa and neither was almost anyone else. But those who WERE wearing masks were not harassing the ones who were not, or vice versa.

It was like this in America for decades, certainly when I grew up in small-town Minnesota. There were 4th of July picnics and Community Sings at the bandshell. There were rabid fans of local baseball and softball teams. The Church Suppers were patronized by all the religions. The Methodists putting on the Spaghetti-Feed knew that they were going to need the Lutherans and the Catholics, so they better get their families to the Smelt Fry and the Booyah.

Well, maybe you’re thinking, “Oh sure, those were the Bad Old Days where every town was just a bunch of Pale Supremacists. Your Prescott experience sounds like a throw-back to the 50s. So where is the Diversity which is our strength?”

But you would be WRONG, Mr. Straw Man! Included in the sea of Happy Humanity are families of Mexicans, Indians, two women walking hand in hand, interracial couples, mixed friendship groups. Just PEOPLE, not hostile tribes. Everybody friendly.

Why, there is even a check-out person at my supermarket with a name tag that improbably states his name is Charlene. Nobody gives him any grief. I entertained a silent fantasy about the silly “Dead Name” business. It is allegedly a terrible hurtful vicious act (and an actual crime in Canada) to call a pretend woman by his original dead male name. I speculated that if a deceased auntie had a will that gave a considerable sum to “my nephew, Charles” that “Charlene” would decide right quick that maybe that name was not completely dead, at least for the duration of the reading of the will.

As Miracle Max said in The Princess Bride, “There’s a big difference between mostly dead and all dead.” Can you imagine Charlene saying, “Charles? Never heard of him. I’ll just pass on the half-million”? The Left has never let a little thing like MASSIVE hypocrisy stand in the way of ruining everything it touches.

For 50 years, give or take, the rallying cry for killing the unborn has been “A woman has the right to control her own body.” And “A woman’s right to choose.” The State cannot tell a birthing person what to do with her body – EVEN when it involves the death of another person. But if the Left gets its way, none of the 57 genders can “choose” not to have the vaccine. The State will COMPEL you on penalty of being unable to travel anywhere or buy food without a Vaccine Passport. President Trump is vaccinated (#MeToo) and he recommended vaccination at his massive Alabama rally. But, he is against compulsion.

The Left LOVES compulsion of any kind except – hold the phone! – the repulsive DeBlasio has figured out that penalizing the unvaccinated is – oh, you’ll never guess – RAAACISST. Because it turns out not to be true that it’s largely Deplorables or Evangelicals who reject the jab – it’s young black people! You can’t tell people they have the right to loot, the right to block traffic, the right to commandeer whole city blocks, the right to shoplift $949.95 worth of merchandise every stinkin’ day – and then turn around and say, “Bu0, THIS you cannot do – you cannot loot and shoplift without a vaccination.”

Yeah, “whatever, Boomer.” The Fifties are not comin’ back, Nostalgia Grrrll. We have moved on from Community Sings to Drag Queen Story Time. But not everywhere. Not here. Not yet.