Aquatic Big Buck Hunter

There are two things I like doing with wildlife: trying to catch them to pet them/play with them/ride them, and hunting them in video games with a shotgun at my waist, much like Doc Holliday. And running away from them if they're scary, like spiders or octopus or squid. Ok, three things. I haven't had much luck playing with any wild animals, and I've never brought my murderous spree to the real world, until...NOW!

When I was younger, I would often go fishing with my dad and sister at Kissena Pond, a small, man-made pond near Flushing, Queens. I was an excellent fisherman, and often caught double digit sunfish or crappies, using bread as bait. The fish were always returned to the water, and I'd go home content, knowing how good an outdoorsman I was, confident that the next time I'd outsmart the fish again. Unfortunately, this paradigm seemed to shift when pursuing actual fish you can eat, in real fishing places. I'm hoping it will shift back again, as I just applied for a one day fishing license in Colorado, and it was as rigorous as applying for a job.

First off, there are many, many, many hunting and fishing licenses you can apply for, some named after the animal (Wild Turkey, Mountain Lion), and some after the type, like furbearer (for small game). There's a chart on the site, showing how much a license costs per day, additional day, 5 days, week, month, or century, for residents and non residents. Once you finally get that all sorted, it's time to put in your information.

Colorado needs to know your name, date of birth, address...all the essential information you would imagine. Then they need your drivers license # and social security, which I was a bit leery of, especially after being asked if it was cool if they shared that info with their drinking and hunting buddies. Uhm. No. Not cool, actually. Finally, Colorado fishing license department whatever needed to know my height and weight (bit of a touchy subject right now), which I found quite odd. Odder still was the measurements, which started at 1 foot and went all the way up to 9. Sure, they don't want to discriminate. I was tempted to put in 9 foot, 4 inches, 400 pounds, but then thought if I caught a shark or something in the river and I wasn't allowed to, rather than send one ranger after me, they might send a battalion, and a tank. Which I'm just not physically prepared for.

Half Cocked at the Bar

Congratulations, Arizona, Georgia, Virginia and Tennessee! You all voted to make it legal to carry a gun in a bar or restaurant that serves alcohol, and gave me one more reason to never visit.

Some people don't feel comfortable working in such an environment, but that's probably just because they haven't heard all the completely rational arguments:

• The best way to prevent getting shot is to arm everyone (historical fact: the Cold War was awesome, and well thought out. All arms races/weapon stockpiling for deterrence are.)
• “If someone’s sticking a gun in my face, I’m not relying on their charity to keep me alive,” so he should have a gun to protect himself (which came first, the gun in the face or the gun to protect?)
• Gov. Perry of Texas argues that guns should be legal in colleges after a shooting at U. Texas, stating that armed bystanders might have stopped the gunman (or perhaps one of them might have been in the shooter)

Sure, I know you're not supposed to be drinking alcohol while carrying a completely legal gun you have a permit for, but I just don't see that stopping everyone. Guns and alcohol are manly, and why shouldn't they mix? It's obviously safer than drinking and driving, otherwise that'd be legal too. People never go to bars to blow off steam. Historically, bars have allowed patrons to carry guns on them. And it's always worked out. Just ask any Wild West movie.

Guns don't kill people. Drunk people in bars in Arizona, Georgia, Virginia and Tennessee who carried their gun in kill people.