Dance of the Reptiles (28 page)

But don’t be confused by facts, and don’t be afraid to be afraid. Millions of Floridians innocently drive to work
unarmed every day. If there’s terror in their eyes, it’s only because our highways are crawling with maniacs who don’t know how to drive. Fortunately, the Legislature and the NRA are here to remind us of a larger, unseen menace. Without a firearm in the vehicle, commuters are easy prey for marauding dope fiends, muggers, and carjackers.

The new law isn’t perfect because of the aforementioned requirement that you can’t take your gun to work unless you have a concealed-weapons permit. Not to worry. The law prohibits your employer from inquiring about your gun permit—and the list of Floridians who have one is secret. In other words, feel free to lie to your boss, because there’s no way he or she can check it out. The NRA thinks of everything.

Business lobbyists are threatening to go to court and challenge the law, which they say will make the workplace atmosphere more dangerous. They might be right, but danger cuts both ways.

Say a discontented employee runs out to his truck and gets a pistol. Once he stalks back into the stockroom and begins shooting, what do you think is going to happen next? His coworkers will dash out to their own vehicles, grab their own guns, and start firing, too. Somebody’s bound to hit the crazy bastard eventually—and then problem solved!

So, the new gun law was written with built-in checks and balances. It fiercely protects the Second Amendment rights of potential snipers, and also of those unlucky souls who work side by side with them.

May the best shot win.

May 31, 2009

Camping? Don’t Forget to Bring Your Gun

Like many other Americans, every time I take my family to a national park, I find myself thinking:
Wow! If I only had a gun …

Now, thanks to Congress and President Obama, all of us will soon be able to carry loaded firearms into national parks and wildlife refuges. Even concealed weapons will be allowed for those who have state permits.

It’s about time. The one element that’s been missing from the outdoor experience in Yellowstone and Yosemite was the adventurous possibility that the drunks at the next campsite might be fooling around with a loaded .357.

Now the thrill is back, and the man to praise is Sen. Tom Coburn, a Republican from Oklahoma and a proud warrior for the National Rifle Association. Even though Oklahoma isn’t famous for its national parks—you’re probably not planning your summer around a trip to the Chickasaw National Recreation Area—Coburn took up the battle on behalf of armed tourists everywhere.

It was those yellow-bellied liberals in the Reagan administration who imposed the current restrictions on guns in federal parklands. Ever since the ’80s, owners have been required to lock or store their weapons in car trunks or glove boxes. That meant everyone entering a national park was essentially stripped of his or her Second Amendment rights for the duration of their visit. (Despite this punitive constraint, attendance mysteriously soared at parks from coast to coast.)

The battle to put loaded guns back in the hands of American vacationers wasn’t easy. Efforts to revoke the Reagan rules fell short even when Congress was controlled by the Republicans
and George W. Bush was president. But Coburn and the NRA saw a golden opportunity two weeks ago, as Congress was rushing to rein in credit-card companies that were jacking up interest rates on debt-ridden customers.

The senator slyly attached the controversial parks measure as an amendment to the credit-card reform bill, which he knew was certain to be passed and sent to Obama. The president was pushing to sign it by Memorial Day. Said Coburn, “Timing is everything in politics.” Democratic leaders couldn’t figure out how to separate the gun issue from the credit-card issue and again found themselves outfoxed and outmaneuvered.

Unfortunately, the new firearm rules won’t be in effect this summer, so campers and hikers in national parks still can’t arm themselves with anything stronger than pepper spray or barbecue tongs. That will make domestic disputes a bit more difficult to settle.

However, beginning in February, two great American traditions will return: Not only can park visitors pack heat, they can purchase all the guns and ammo they want on multiple credit cards, without fear of being gouged when they fall behind on the payments.

Critics of the new law, including wildlife officers, say that since hunting is still illegal in national parks, there’s no reason to be roaming around with a loaded weapon unless you’re a poacher. Admittedly, poachers might cheer the Coburn rules because they’ll no longer have to hassle with unlocking their car trunks to grab their rifles, an activity that tends to alert the elk. Instead, poachers can keep their guns handy in the backseat or, more conveniently, on their laps.

Law-abiding citizens have even more compelling reasons to bring firearms to a park. Statistically, you’re far more likely
to die from a bee sting than be attacked by a bear or moose, but that doesn’t mean the woods are safe.

Don’t forget the raccoons. Wilderness regions like the Rocky Mountain National Park and Grand Teton produce some gimongous raccoons, and those mothers are absolutely fearless. Given the chance, they’ll swipe every darn Oreo in your backpack. Finally, thanks to Congress, such brazen intruders will soon be staring down the business end of a 20-gauge Remington. Go ahead, varmint, make my day.

Tourists planning a stop at Everglades National Park would likewise be smart to come prepared, because the place is crawling with huge pythons. It’s a veritable infestation, and the new gun law couldn’t have come at a better time.

The problem with shooting at a 20-foot-long snake is that the odds of hitting its tiny brainpan are about 200-to-1. And if you do miss the brain, you risk infuriating the snake. Luckily, no humans have been devoured by any Everglades pythons so far. In fact, there hasn’t been a single attack—but what does that really prove?

All it takes is one rogue reptile that develops a fondness for sunblock, Tevas, and pale human flesh.

Listen to the NRA. There’s no place for naive complacency in the great outdoors, so lock and load, America.

Next summer we can pack our MAC-10s with the marshmallows.

December 10, 2011

Why Some Lawmakers Are in Panic

An absolutely true news item: Having passed a law allowing gun owners to bring their weapons inside the state Capitol building, the Florida Senate has hastily installed panic buttons on the office phone of every senator and staff member
.

This is an open letter from concerned members of the Florida House of Representatives to the sergeant of arms:

We couldn’t help but notice that our colleagues in the Senate were provided with enhanced security measures as a result of our controversial—but patriotic!—decision to allow licensed owners of concealed weapons to carry their loaded guns through the corridors of the Capitol
.

As everybody knows, the legislation wasn’t our idea. It was written by lobbyists for the National Rifle Association, a fine organization that isn’t nearly as crazed and paranoid as some people make it out to be. Also, the NRA contributes generously to most of our political campaigns, which is why we blindly do whatever it tells us to do
.

Up until a few months ago, law-enforcement officers asked all pistol-packing constituents to leave their weapons in a lockbox before entering the Capitol. That system worked pretty darn well, in our humble opinion, but then we learned of the NRA’s desire to further broaden the Second Amendment rights of law-abiding Americans
.

So we went ahead and passed this new law that prevents local governments from regulating firearms, except in a few places where the state specifically says guns don’t belong—hospitals, schools, and courthouses
.

We’d be fibbing if we said every single member of the House actually read this bill and comprehended all its ramifications. Basically, we took the NRA’s word that it was no biggie. Ever since October 1, anybody with a concealed-weapons permit can bring their favorite pistol to beaches, parks, even public libraries. Most legislators weren’t too worried because, seriously, who the heck still goes to a library? Not us!

Beaches didn’t seem like a problem area, either. Everybody’s wearing bathing suits, so where would you even conceal a
weapon? If some guy’s got a .357 sticking out of his Speedo, little kids should have enough common sense not to mess with his sand castle. Right?

Then we come to find out that the new law also allows loaded handguns inside government buildings such as school board headquarters, city halls, county halls, and even the venerable state Capitol here in Tallahassee, where we the undersigned happened to work
.

Bearing in mind that citizens occasionally get angry at their politicians, and also bearing in mind that even a normally sober firearms owner can have a bad day, the NRA kindly allowed us to bar gun toters from the legislative chambers and committee rooms, where we conduct the important business of selling out to special interests
.

However, the law doesn’t prevent armed voters from freely walking the hallways of the Capitol or visiting the offices of we the undersigned. Consequently, we were intrigued by media reports about the so-called panic buttons that have been given to members of the Senate, even the Democrats who voted against the darn law. Not that we have an inferiority complex, but we who serve in the House are curious to know why our phones weren’t also equipped with emergency devices
.

It’s true that there are only 40 state senators while there are 120 representatives. And it’s also true that Florida is in a severe budget crisis and that government needs to shave expenses wherever possible. But seriously, how much money can these stupid little gizmos possibly cost? Don’t we have any pull at Radio Shack?

After consulting the House leadership, we’ve decided to take the high road and assume that the absence of panic buttons isn’t a snub but, rather, the result of clerical oversight or perhaps assembly-line problems at the panic-button factory in Taiwan. This temporary disparity in the level of safety precautions
doesn’t mean that the life of a House member is somehow less valued than that of a senator. In truth, all of us in the legislative branch stand equal in the eyes of those who are seeking to buy our favor
.

Therefore, as sergeant of arms, you are hereby instructed to promptly obtain and install the proper quantity of panic buttons in the offices of the House of Representatives. Said buttons should be connected to an emergency command center and should ring at an earsplitting pitch when activated by the user
.

Upon hearing such an alarm, Capitol police should assume that a House member is facing a gun-wielding Floridian who is disgruntled, deranged, or possibly both. At this point, Second Amendment concerns should be set aside and all diligent efforts should be aimed at stopping this nut job by whatever means necessary (and we’re not talking about Tasering his butt, okay?)
.

Also, we wish to formally inquire about the availability of body armor. Does it come with pockets?

July 7, 2012

Florida Loses Another Ridiculous Legal Battle

Another one bites the dust.

A Miami federal judge has struck down the new law prohibiting Florida doctors from discussing gun ownership with their patients. The ruling extends the legal losing streak of Gov. Rick Scott and right-wing lawmakers, who have set a pathetic record for unconstitutional bills.

Written by the National Rifle Association, the so-called Firearm Owners’ Privacy Act would have prevented concerned physicians from asking patients about guns kept in their houses. It’s a reasonable query in domestic situations where children might be at risk.

But the GOP-controlled Legislature wants doctors to shut up about guns and stick to lecturing women about their abortion decisions. So much for privacy.

By necessity, doctors ask lots of personal questions. Are you using any illegal drugs? How much alcohol do you drink in a week? Do you smoke cigarettes? Do you suffer from depression? We’ve all filled out the checklists while sitting in the waiting room. And on the examination table, we’ve all heard doctors and nurses ask things we wouldn’t post on Facebook.

Say, have you noticed if your urine is changing color?

Uh, no.

Most of us have never been asked by our health-care providers whether we have a gun or where on the premises we keep it. However, most of us don’t have bullet scars, needle tracks, or booze on our breath when showing up for a medical appointment. Some people do, and too often they have kids. Doctors who ask questions are usually just doctors who care, and the best doctors have more questions than others.

The ban on asking about gun habits originated after an Ocala couple reportedly claimed their physician wouldn’t treat them anymore because they refused to talk about it. Cue the NRA, which had no trouble finding a stooge in the Legislature to sponsor a bill that effectively prohibited physicians from raising the subject.

Republican supporters claimed that merely by inquiring about firearms in the house, doctors are infringing on a patient’s Second Amendment rights. The argument is embarrassingly lame. Suggesting that someone put a trigger lock on their handgun is not quite the same as confiscating it. Extending the Legislature’s knothead logic, a doctor who promotes the safe use of condoms is violating your constitutional right to accidentally impregnate whomever you want.

The gun law was doomed in the courts from the day the NRA hacks delivered it. Still, it passed last year and was proudly signed by Scott, generating a swift legal challenge from the Florida Pediatric Society, the Florida Academy of Family Physicians, and other groups.

In the media, the battle became known as “Docs vs. Glocks,” and on June 29 the docs won.

U.S. District Judge Marcia Cooke made permanent an order blocking the law, saying it violated the free-speech rights of physicians. She said the wording of the legislation was “vague” and offered no guidelines for health-care practitioners. For instance, the statute allowed doctors to ask about firearms only if they believed in “good faith” that the information was relevant to a patient’s care and safety. Yet no specific standards were laid out in the law. The judge said it had a “chilling” effect on medical providers who feared heavy fines or even losing their licenses if they spoke to families about gun safety—a rather serious health issue in Florida, judging by the number of emergency-room admissions.