As a consummate "When in Rome" personality, then, I did very little to celebrate Canada Day this year. My primary activity on July 1st consisted of reminding all my American friends that it was, in fact, Canada Day. But to celebrate the glorious Independence Day of the United States of America just a few days later, I did what any red-blooded American patriot might on a July fourth weekend: I shot handguns.
Freedom of the press and assembly, the abolition of slavery, universal suffrage, and the repealing of that foolish old Eighteenth Amendment - all of these rights and laws are self-evident and necessary. To avoid turning this into a discussion of the relative merits and faults of the right to bear arms, I'll just say this: the Second Amendment is undoubtedly the most fun of all the constitutional rights enjoyed by American citizens. Even so, that might not be saying much.
To exercise our rights, a few buddies and I and headed out on a beautiful afternoon to spend some time at the American Firearms School in North Attleboro, Massachusetts. Only one out of the four of us had ever shot a handgun before, although most of us had shot rifles. Last year I had the somewhat unusual experience of shooting an M16 rifle at a range about 10 meters from the Israel-Lebanon border fence. In somewhat typical, casual Israeli fashion, our entire instruction in rifle operation consisted of three-minute session to identify exactly where to find the trigger and which way to point the gun.
Of course Noam, the token Israeli friend, was far and away the best shot out of all of us. P.S.: IF YOU SEE THIS MAN, CALL YOUR LOCAL LAW ENFORCEMENT AUTHORITIES
Our instructor at the American Firearms school was a bit more thorough than our Israeli gun guru, although it still only took us about 15 minutes of lecture time before we were allowed to hit the range with our rented .22 caliber handguns. For $35 and our signatures on a lengthy release of liability form, we received range time, guns, NRA-approved targets, and 100 rounds of ammunition. The quality of the instruction was quite good. We were taught how to load a magazine without cutting our fingers on the sharp edges, how to load the gun without killing any bystanders, how to hold the gun without getting our hands broken by the blowback action of the pistol's slide, how to aim using the open sights, and how to compensate for recoil by positioning our bodies to absorb the shock.
Out on the range, I found the actual shooting to be a challenging exercise in relaxation and concentration. Although the recoil from the .22 was not particularly powerful, it was difficult to overcome the anticipation of pulling the trigger. For all my banter about the fun of the Second Amendment, there can be no doubt: shooting a gun is a uniquely sobering experience. The entire time I was on the range I felt alert and self-conscious, taking the time to think carefully about exactly what I was doing. Even more unpleasant than holding such lethal power in my hands were the burning hot, flying shell casings, which had a tendency to ricochet off the dividing walls between the lanes and sting me in the arms or neck.
Despite this, after we had all exhausted our 100 rounds on two targets, my friend Mike and I opted to move up a size to 9mm handguns. I was issued a French pistol (on July Fourth weekend - sacrebleu!) while Mike rented a slick but jam-prone Italian firearm. As it turns out, the pistols were cheap to rent, but buying 9mm ammunition was pricey! For $28, we received only 50 rounds. This seems to be how the range makes most of their profit, since shooters must purchase their ammo at the range store.
If firing the .22 was solemn, then shooting the 9mm was downright frightening. At .355" in diameter, a 9mm round is approximately 1.61 times the diameter of a .22" round - a significant increase in size (see image at left). However, my experience as a Hollywood-movie-watching, video-game-playing, "Ready to Die"-listening member of the urban northeastern zeitgeist had apparently conditioned me to consider a 9mm pistol as a small and somewhat weak weapon. Relatively speaking, I suppose it is; I could have rented larger caliber weapons like a .45 or a .357 magnum. But after firing my 50 9mm rounds out on the range, I had absolutely no desire to shoot anything larger. For a novice like me, the recoil from my weapon was intense and difficult to control, and the report was jarring even through my protective earmuffs.As it turns out, I'm a fair shot with a pistol (at least at the modest range of five yards). For me, the most difficult part of shooting the 9mm was psychological. After loading the gun, pointing it downrange, chambering a round, and removing the safety, I was left with the knowledge that pulling the trigger would result in a fair-sized explosion in my hand, as well as an ejected shell casing rebounding somewhere in my immediate vicinity. What can I say? Knowing both those things made it hard to relax, steady the gun, and aim at my target before taking my shot.
After observing my shooting, one of the instructors pulled me off the range, unloaded my gun, and taught me how to steady my trigger finger. He picked a shell casing off the casing-strewn floor and placed it standing on top of the gun's ejection port. He then taught me how to pull the trigger to within a millimeter of its action point before committing to the final pull, which, if gently and steadily finessed with the tip of the finger, would cause the shell casing to fall neatly into the now-open port (rather than off the gun entirely - the inevitable result of an unsteady pull). This same motion could then be applied to firing the loaded gun. After that lesson, shooting the gun because much easier. I could spend less mental energy anticipating the jerking motion that had previously accompanied my trigger pulls, and devote more of my concentration to simply aiming. Even so, I chose to fire only five rounds at a time before taking a break to maintain my concentration and ensure safety.
I think that the four of us went to the range that day with a fairly predictable, ironical notion of the overall absurdity of American gun culture. On the ride down, we happily joked about popping caps with our gats and such. We played mid-90s gangster rap to prepare for our bullet-riddled experience. The truth is that the shooters at the range that day were decidedly normal, and the staff undoubtedly professional. One of the instructors did seem pleased about getting a chance to lecture us about how we'd been mislead by gun stereotypes in Hollywood films and "the mainstream media", but I did not see anyone who could have been visibly pigeonholed as a "gun nut", a "hick", a "survivalist", or any other similar American stereotypes. If there was a culture war going on, we weren't on the front lines.
I was, however, surprised by the sheer variety and power of firearms for sale and rent. From small handguns to long hunting rifles, from tactical shotguns to the iconic AK47 hanging on the wall behind the cash register, there could be no doubt: Americans, even in the liberal ivory tower of Massachusetts, have more than just the right to bear arms. For the right price, we have access to a serious arsenal.
Some argue that when measured against the original spirit of the Second Amendment (which was intended as an insurance policy against violent government oppression) the weaponry available to private citizens is actually inadequate to ensure our freedom. After all, even a fully automatic machine gun is no match for the government's tanks and planes. But an afternoon of shooting left me somewhat in awe of our constitutionally guaranteed firepower. It's more than enough for me.
I doubt I'll be returning to a gun range any time soon. It's not a particularly lighthearted hobby (at least not for my tastes) and it certainly isn't cheap. Still, since Americans have the right to bear arms, we may as well enjoy it from time to time. I would definitely rank the Second Amendment as more fun than the killjoy Sixteenth Amendment, or the career-ending Twenty-second. That James Madison sure knew how to have a good time.
Freedom isn't free! I paid approximately $0.56 per round of 9mm freedom. Note all the discarded freedom casings on the ground.
