ON THE CHANGES ONE MAKES TO LIVE IN A "STAND YOUR GROUND" STATE

Those who read my blog know that in 2013 I returned to Saint Petersburg, Florida, after living in Medellin, Colombia, for two years. I returned to "St. Pete" because I still owned a home I had purchased there in 2001. I rented it while I was away.

I have watched my adopted city evolve...from a sleepy pensioner's home to a vibrant youth mecca named one of The New York Times' 52 PLACES TO GO IN 2014.

During that time I have also watched the Florida legislature, in bed with the National Rifle Association, add "Stand Your Ground" and other crazy gun laws to our books. And, I have witnessed the trials related to these abominations where killers can shoot children dead for being children and be found not guilty of these brutal acts.

The other day I went to Abercrombie Park, which is a small spot on the bay near my home. It is a lovely walk through nature ending in an opening to Long Bayou, an offshoot of Boca Ciega Bay.

Next to the parking area for this small paradise is a sign noting rules about trash, pets, and more. The sign not only explains to visitors the rules, like keeping pets leashed and removing their "excreta" [the city's word, not mine], but also cites the exact number of the city's enforcement code.

But, as in every city, there are those special citizens who own special pets that must be allowed to roam and "poop" where they please. Do not expect me to pick up the essence of my dog's Blue Buffalo diet. He and it are special.

In the hour I spent there I probably saw 15 humans. Three of these homo sapiens were accompanied by dogs. Two canines were without a leash. The one on a leash, a pit bull, lunged at me as I passed, forcing me off the trail. One of the two dogs not on a leash curved his spine next to the trail while the owner watched intently. Both dog and owner sauntered off not wanting to spend another millisecond near the steaming pile of odoriferous dog excrement.

The owner walking the dog that scared me off the nature trail said nothing to me, uttering neither a "sorry" nor an "oops." The dog excrement was left in all its steaming brownness. Some unsuspecting visitor in flip flops will invariably step in this stinking pile of canine bombs. The poor nature lover will then have to spend 5 minutes feverishly sliding his or her feet to and fro through a lovely patch of grass while trying to rid themselves of the smell of dog crap.  I said nothing to any of these inconsiderate ordinance breakers.

Florida is a state that has been in drought condition for years.  We are, therefore, subject to forest and brush fires all year long. Yesterday I watched a man puff on his cigarette with that familiar last deep drag, then flip it out of his car.  He was sitting next to me. I said nothing to this potential forest-fire igniter.

I have mentioned previously that I have not been to a public movie theatre since January 13th of this year. That is the day a retired police captain, Curtis Reeves, shot and killed a man for texting while the man was sitting in the seat in front of Reeves.  In a case of murderous hypocrisy, Reeves killed Chad Oulson immediately after he himself had sent a phone text to his son while sitting in the darkened theatre.

I am a former U.S. Marine and a combat veteran. I have learned to fire accurately many types of weapons...pistols, rifles, shot guns, machine guns, grenade launchers, rocket launchers, flame throwers, and more.

Since I left the Marine Corps I have not owned a gun of any sort. I believe that in a civilized society only the police and the military should carry weapons. I do not believe the Second Amendment pertains to anything other than a militia, to create a gendarmerie or police force.

Since I have reached adulthood I have typically been the one to comment to someone when they were doing something harmful or annoying. "Please turn off your cell phone," while watching a movie, might leave my lips. "Please pick up your dog's poop," would get passed at the park. Or, "don't toss your butt out the window, it'll start a fire," could be said at a traffic light. Not anymore.

Reminders to people to be courteous will not issue from my lips. Unless someone physically attacks me they will not even hear a peep from me. I have become the proverbial clam. Only with friends and family will I dare speak up anymore.

I live in Florida. It is the land of shoot first; claim, "I was in fear for my life;" and no other defense need be established, thank you.

If the intention of wide open gun laws is to make anyone without a gun fearful, then the law has succeeded I think. As an attorney friend of mine tells me, "Don't pay a price higher than what the other person is worth." No American who believes they need to carry a gun has enough worth for me to lose my life to them. 

When I lived in Medellin, and asked someone to not talk during a film, I did not fear a bullet as an answer.  I cannot say that in sunny Florida.

Welcome home, Marine. Hoo-rah!