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By Inga Barks
Friday, Jan 27 2012 01:39 PM
I don't mean to brag, but my boys are awesome with a shotgun. When the twins were old enough, we took an NRA-sponsored women and children shotgun class out at Five Dogs Shooting Range.
Now, if you ask any of the men who taught that class (and they know who they are), they'll tell you that my boys were... rambunctious. Perhaps energetic. Or, if they're honest, they'll tell you those 9-year-olds were just plain boogers. But when it was their turn to shoot clays, they were magnificent. They hit almost every target.
I knew right then and there they were born in the wrong generation. They needed to be kids back in the days when a person could throw their favorite gun on their back and walk down the street on their way to a dove hunt. Unfortunately they were born, and now live, in a "sissified" era where the sight of a gun sends people into a panic.
When Assemblyman Anthony Portantino, D- La Canada Flintridge, introduced a bill in 2011 to make it illegal to openly carry an unloaded gun, I was naive enough to believe it would never pass. After all, an unloaded gun is about as useful a weapon as my coin- and lipstick-loaded 10-lb. purse. It might cause some bruising but no one is gonna die.
I figured logic would prevail, and even the most liberal legislator would see that a gun is an inanimate object. And unloaded it might as well be a toaster!
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I recently asked a friend why he got out of politics. He said, "because politics makes nice people mean." Boy, he's not kidding! In the 20 years that I've paid attention, I've seen friendships destroyed, loyalties violated and careers hurt by the ego, ambition and power that come with politics. There's nothing wrong with ambition and ego in politics. In fact, they're almost necessary for success.
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Usually when I disagree with Californian Opinion Editor Robert Price, I chalk his "wrongness" up to the trauma he experienced during the two soccer seasons that the poor man coached my twin boys.
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Let me guess, this Thanksgiving at dinner tables everywhere, the conversation went a little like this:
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First, a very sincere and heartfelt disclaimer:I acknowledge that many laws are written by well-meaning lawmakers, inspired by a tale of woe. Many bills that hope to become California laws begin with personal experience in which someone fell through a legal crack, and the new laws seek to remedy those loopholes.
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It all started when I caught sight of a billboard asking me to make a difference. I'd heard and seen the commercials by the San Joaquin Valley Air Pollution Control District about cleaning our air. I'd also heard warnings that the valley will continue to face steep federal fines if we don't curb our greenhouse emissions.
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I've been wracking my brain, trying to understand why no matter what anyone says about California high-speed rail, supporters come back with a stepford wife-like response about how great it is. How they trust in a government project, by the very government that's been working on variations of this train since the 1990s, only to come up with 190 miles of an 800-mile route, and local civic leaders who admitted this week that they can't run a dog pound!
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George Foreman seems like a good guy, with a distinguished boxing career and a grill known round the world. He also named all of his children George. Now I guess with the first child it's cute. With the second and third and fifth and even the girls, it starts getting a little weird if not obnoxious.
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President Obama might have called him a "carnival barker" this week on national television, but when he did it he was giving credence and publicity to said carnival barker, Donald Trump, who had been demanding that Obama release his birth certificate. Which he did.
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God forbid your stockbroker ever calls you to report that he lost all your money investing in a car called the Edsel II. But if he did, would you give him more of your nest egg? What if your precious child came to you and told you that she spent her lunch money on gummy bears? Would you break out the wallet and replenish her account? If you're sane you'd fire the broker, and show your precious child where you keep the lunch sacks!
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If you catch the Academy Awards Sunday night, watch for a behind-the-scenes trick: the seat filler. The seat filler patiently stands for hours in formal wear, waiting for the winner to collect his or her Oscar or for someone famous to run to the bathroom -- at which time the seat filler makes a mad dash to the empty seat before the camera pans the room.
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You're driving down the road, minding your own business, when suddenly a Bakersfield Police officer flags you down. You pull over, wondering to yourself, "Was I speeding? Did I make an illegal turn or run a light?" Your answer to yourself is, "No, no, and no."
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Despite being called the "Party of No," Republicans (conservatives) aren't opposed to law and governance. Just ridiculous and unnecessary law and governance.
