Santa Claus vs. The Second Amendment
Every damn time I think ‘bout feedin’ my young’uns, ol’ Tony Joe’s song rattles round my skull.
I'm gonna tell y’all a story so's you'll understand what I'm talkin' about …
An’ like that song, we did alright. Partly ‘cause a’ two things Pop taught me t’believe in: Santa Claus an’ the Second Amendment. Santa represents God’s bounty. T’other represents our God-given right to defend to (somebody else’s) death our right t’keep whatever the hell we got. But Pop never said what’s what if’n them two come inta conflict. Unfortunately – Pop doin’ 7-to-10 at Raiford for defendin’ his own Second Amendment rights inside a liquor store – Pop weren’t ‘round last Christmas.
I had a crappy deer season – last summer’s draught parched them tender-green shoots deer love – a lousy duck season, too. Can’t even say nothin’ good ‘bout thinnin’ the local gator herd, neither. What’s certain, I got two chest freezers out back, neither one of ‘em holdin’ much’a anythin’. Sure, I pot-shoot the ‘ccasional possum, but Mabel-Mae’s one-critter-to-a-pot stew is mighty thin eatin.’ How we’d eat this winter, ‘specially without no venison, that’s a mystery. Mabel-Mae even “suggested” I find me a job at Walmart, but what-in-hell does that cow know ‘bout providin’ for family, anyway?
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