“Don’t worry about this gun…it’s the BULLET-BULLET!”

Fresh from Detroit! It all started when I took an airplane…from LaGuardia.

I arrived at the airport uncharacteristically early, so I decided to make use of my time by finding an available seat at the bar with the least number of TVs. The airport bar, like the hotel bar, is a wonderful place to meet strangers. The old hippy that took the seat next me seemed very promising indeed.

“How are ya?”

I’m great! I can’t wait to get out of here. You?

“I wish I was in Denver already.”

He orders a double Jack neat and a Heineken back. I love shot and beer kinda guys.

“The plane broke at 2 this afternoon. I guess they’re flying another out. Taking their sweet time.”

This guy seems like a complainer, not a hippy. I’m a little bummed.

“So you like Obama?”

I do. I like him very much. I’m excited about voting.

“What’s his stance on second amendment rights?”

That’s a good question. I don’t really know how to answer this one. Reasonable, I guess? Obama’s probably reasonable about guns. Not sure. I have a gun, but I don’t know how to use it. Its a rifle actually. I have no bullets. I admit ignorance.

“Cos I need to know where he stands. That’s my voting issue. I’m a libertarian, politically. All this insurance is b.s! Medical care? You know what the first amendment is, right?”

I nod. I also roll my eyes.

“Well there is no first amendment without the second!” He throws back the whiskey, guzzles the beer, looks me dead in the eye, then walks out of the bar. My brush with death; that was no hippy.


May 29, 2007. Barack Obama, Guns, Travel. 1 comment.