Modern Warfare and Bambi

Regardless of where one calls home, our surroundings relentlessly force their unique perspective on each of us, (despite our self-proclaimed worldliness). The backdrop for those mundane real-life moments is unavoidably colored by the influences lurking outside the front door. The day-to-day happenings of life, what each of us considers normal, or more precisely the lens through which we observe such events, cannot escape the environment that wraps itself around us on a never-ending basis.

I unfolded the daily newspaper and my eyes instantly fell to the lead story which referred to guns, specifically machine guns, and music. Okay, I’m game, I read on. It seems that a local music festival was interrupted by a stray bullet, but not just any bullet, a 50 caliper machine gun bullet. No one was hurt, the show went on with most of the crowd unawares and only a shattered window to show for the excitement. In short, the lead story was that they didn’t have much of a story.

To put the event in its proper perspective, I live in a small town in Northern Michigan, and as such, carry the influences of what rural life brings. In many places the first thoughts that would flash into the reader’s mind would be of gangs, violence, drug deals or some militia group crawling around the woods waiting, and hoping, for an invasion, (admittedly, a realistic candidate in these parts). However, this is where my environment injected itself into my thought process and I turned to my son.

“What are the odds that whoever owns that machine gun has used it to hunt deer?”

“100%,” he replied without looking up from his computer screen.

It occurred to me that if I lived in a place such as Boston, Chicago, or Los Angeles, (let’s be honest - most places on the planet), a story about a machine gun at a music festival wouldn’t typically bring to mind a testosterone filled twenty-something carrying a six pack and unloading on an unsuspecting doe trying to enjoy dinner. For reference, the person hunting deer with a machine isn’t capable of only one bad decision, therefore, would most assuredly embark on his adventure with alcohol tow. My only hope is that he got deep enough into the Budweiser that he lost his patience and decided to empty his gun on the nearest tree and leave the deer for another day. It would only be later that he would discover that one can’t replenish the required ammunition at the local Walmart.

The story may leave those not familiar with this particular brand of logic believing that those of us from these parts are a bit backward at times, and looking back over this piece, that’s an understandable conclusion. However, at least in our case, the only human likely to be shot is the owner of the gun, (sometime after the fifth beer).

Thanks for stopping by - I’ll keep my eyes open for more people Hunting Squirrels with Bazookas.

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