I am pretty much the standard-issue, pro-recycling, whole-grain-eating, Prius-driving Berkeley type. But on Saturday, I went with Brent to take the Basic Handgun Safety and Marksmanship class—that is, I went to shoot guns. Once before, I went to the gun range and did black powder shooting (like Pa! Like pirates!). This time it was all about Glock 9mm.

For a gun class, it was surprisingly light on NRA-type you-can-have-my-guns-when-you-pry-them-out-of-my-cold-dead-hands. I did learn, however, that just as hammers and saws are tools for building houses, guns are tools for freedom. Keep that in your mind while you’re singing, Arlo.

I had a great time, actually, once we were done with the eons of lecture. Let me summarize for you: Guns are cool. Don’t point them at people. If you hurt yourself or someone else, we are going to be very very mad at you. Blah blah blah historical and mechanical details. Don’t point the guns at people. Unless they are breaking into your house in the middle of the night and you grab your gun out of your gun vault, slide behind the bed for cover and blast the living daylights out of the perp who is threatening your life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness as long as you are confident that you are in immediate danger and must defend yourself.

Brent got all competitive with me during the practice time with the pretend guns, so I decided it was on. The first time I pressed (note: not “squeezed.” It is bad form.) the trigger, I almost threw the gun, thinking, “Holy @$#%@! What was that horrible noise? Oh, wait, that was me.” Good news: I also hit the target. Here is the photographic evidence of my victory:

My target:



Brent’s target:



***

In other news, I now have the coolest shoes EVER. I admit that they are pinker than most things I usually select, but check these out:



And they come in a cool box:



Best of all: THEY LIGHT UP!