Several months ago, I agreed to help set up a gun safety and product demo for Smith and Wesson, a company that manufactures fire arms among other things in northern Maine. They are a great company and provide good jobs for Mainers.
I’ve never really been a fan of guns. I have never hunted and guns were never a part of my family’s culture when I was growing up. As a bright eyed uber liberal at Wesleyan University, the basis of the movie PCU which gives you an idea how liberal my college was, I remember trying to bring Sarah Brady to my college campus for a lecture on handgun control.
But like with many things, we grow older, more tolerant of other views and less judgmental in our political views. For the last 20 years, I have worked in politics in Maine and have come to see the other side of this issue – shooting and hunting is a part of Maine’s culture just like fishing, boating and hiking. Over 60,000 households own a gun in Maine’s Second Congressional District. And these folks take gun safety very seriously.
Now with all of that said, I didn’t really think I was going to have to participate in this gun demo that we scheduled for this week. But peer pressure set in, and it was important to our office that I participate.
Dreary eyed and exhausted after the end of the debt limit debate and final votes, I begrudgingly made my way to the office on Wednesday morning, all the while dreading this activity I had reluctantly agreed to. I deliberately waited until the end of the 4-hour demo hoping there wouldn’t be a lot of staffers around to watch what I was sure would amount to nothing short of a giant embarrassment.
Well so much for deliberate planning. I got lost in the underground parking garage as I trudged over and as if par for the course, I was picked up by one of the maintenance guys in his little buggy and driven to the proper location. As we whizzed from level G1 to G2 and then back down to G1, I only wished I had giant sunglasses and a head wrap. I finally arrived in grand style at the Capitol Police Shooting Range in the basement of the Rayburn Office building, and much to my chagrin, it was packed. “Suck it up,” I sighed to myself and signed in.
After a safety lesson, I donned some earplugs, eye goggles and ear protective wear and headed in through door 1 and then door 2 of the firing range. When it was my turn, the safety instructor asked if I had ever fired a gun before and was then shocked by answer given the fact I had grown up in Maine. Hands trembling, I picked up the 9-millimeter handgun and pointed it at the big white T in the target silhouette. I fired and missed. I fired again and missed. The instructor told me to relax and lighten my grip. “Let the gun do the work,” he said. Well Bam Bam, the next shot hit the target dead on. I started laughing with giddy excitement and tried again. Bam Bam – I hit the target again. By this point I was trembling so much, I couldn’t have it again if I tried.
Next station – the rifle! Now this was fun. The gun was light and had an automatic laser sight, which made hitting your target much easier. 9 out of my 10 shots went where they were supposed to and I exited the firing range proud as pie for my accomplishment.
I probably won’t be purchasing any camouflage gear anytime soon, but I will say it was extremely fun, and I’d probably do it again. How’s that for stepping outside your comfort zone!
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