I visited my son in West Virginia today. I wanted to try out my new .308 — which is brilliant, BTW. I have never been a good shot by any measure, but I was nailing targets at 150 yards — so we went to the outdoor rifle range at a nearby state park. It was unusually active today, and at one point, there were about a dozen locals besides of us, and almost all of them were firing AR-15 variants. (I’m sure some of them were ghost guns capable of firing 30 magazine clips per second.)
So there I was, surrounded by rednecks with “assault rifles;” a liberal gay’s nightmare.
But I felt perfectly safe, and found the other shooters perfectly friendly.
Afterwards, we went here for lunch.