Impulse Purchase of the Week

"Hands in the air Black Bart!"

I was schlepping through the local WallyWorld today, looking for God-knows-what, when I decided to take a swing through the sporting goods section.  This is a pathetic WallyWorld so, as you'd expect, the sporting goods section is equally pathetic.  I think the automotive section personnel are responsible for it, and their lack of attention shows (and the automotive section isn't much better).

Anyway, it looks like they are 'getting ready' for fall and the coming hunting season.  By 'getting ready', I mean that they just unpack whatever WallyWorld Central ships them and half heartedly chuck it onto an open shelf and let schmucks like me pick through it to find what we are looking for.  Ya' know, at this store that's the way I like it - most of the retail staff are lazy and don't know what they have in stock anyway.

At the far back of the sporting goods section, waaaay back behind the basketball and weight lifting gear, past the golf stuff and just around the corner from the Denise Austin exercise DVDs is a small area designated for 'shooting supplies'.  Some cleaning gear, a few cheap scopes, some old paper targets.  I did note, however, that they just got a new stock of 70th Anniversary Daisy Red Ryder Carbine BB rifles in stock.  I paused for a moment and thought, "Heck son, you don't have one of those yet.  Every red blooded American boy needs one of those!"  Since Roberta reminds me daily that I'm just a big overgrown kid I figured what the heck, I'll get one!

I pulled a 70th Anniversary Daisy Red Ryder Carbine off the shelf, tossed it into the cart, went to the register, paid the gal ($29.95 plus tax) and walked out past Oscar the WallyWorld Greeter without either of us batting an eye.

Get it?  I walked in to a store and purchased what in many locales and states is considered a dangerous firearm, paid for it along with my toothpaste and Diet Coke, tossed it into the cart and walked out of the store without anyone screaming in horror about a "man with a gun!" or "please mister, don't shoot us!"

In places like Chicago, New York City and even the entire state of New Jersey what I did this morning is not only impossible, if I even attempted it I'd be prosecuted as a felon.

Instead, in places like Georgia, rational folks understand that BB guns are little more than toys.  Yes, toys that must be used under strict supervision, but toys none-the-less.  You see, in Georgia the government trusts the citizens.  It trusts them to make sure their kids don't do stupid things with BB guns.  In return those same citizens promise to exercise responsibility in the purchase and use of things like BB guns. Guess what?  This relationship works!  Has worked for a few hundred years now.  That's why I chose to live in Georgia and not in Chicago, New York City or New Jersey.

This 70th Anniversary Daisy Red Ryder Carbine will most likely just stay in it's packaging, stored in my gun safe for a future time when future grandkids are visiting and looking for something neat to do, like shooting at Necco wafers or pine cones.

And yes Roberta, I promise we won't shoot our eyes out...