One thing about the gun debate I find interesting is how quickly and easily gun owners get riled up when politicians, or anyone else for that matter, begin talking about taking away their guns.
A grieving parent makes a respectful effort to initiate such change, or at least to establish a healthy dialogue, and they are reproached by a prominent politician for their "grandstanding."
We are going about this all wrong. The folks on the left say with fewer or no guns we will have fewer or no more gun crimes. The folks on the right say with more guns we will have more safety from people who would abuse guns.
Bringing a Glock into Starbucks doesn't make you a freedom fighter. If you want to carry a weapon and wear tactical clothing, here's an idea: Go see a recruiter.
Seventy percent of kids under age 10 knew where their parents stored their guns, even when they were hidden. When curious kids and their siblings or friends find those guns, the results can be tragic.
I figured the book to be just another one of those "it's time to defang the NRA" deals, with the usual elixir of anti-gun proposals like more background checks, another assault weapons ban and, for good measure, let's get rid of all the damn things anyway. I was wrong.
Carrying loaded -- or even unloaded -- military-style weapons that are intentionally designed to look like props from a Michael Bay movie goes light years beyond peaceably protesting -- and merges into being ominous, sneering intimidation of innocent people.
There are tens of thousands of people, including U.S. citizens, who may not travel on a commercial airline. The reason is mostly well-known: their na...
The joke is that the bigger the gun, the tinier the penis, and while that may be absolutely, 100-percent true in every single case, there are other things guns compensate for. Here are eight of them.
Abraham -- the father of Jews, Christians and Muslims -- is heralded for his willingness to sacrifice, to give up his son, Isaac. After all, to love God so much to be willing to give back to God that which you have longed for, prayed for and cared for is no easy matter.
June 4, 1998 began as a routine day. I kissed three-year-old Markie and my five-year-old daughter Jennifer goodbye as I took my two older girls to school. A day that began so normally ended with heartbreak and pain that I still can't begin to explain.
In all those years of play dates and sleepovers, I never had anyone ask me about my guns, and I never asked anyone else about theirs. I didn't think to ask. I would have never let my child go there if I had known they had guns lying around unsecured.
A noteworthy event took place in Newtown, CT last month. On May 31, the Newtown community proudly hosted a gathering of visitors. No media, no politics -- just people.
It is one thing to pass a law, it is another to enforce it. If only a few people disobey it, they can be prosecuted. If many do, the capacity of the courts and, if necessary, the prison system, can be overwhelmed.
We've had wars on drugs, on poverty, on cancer. We've had so many such wars that even our metaphors are now locked and loaded. Meanwhile, the guys with guns continue to wage their very real wars at home and abroad. Before we retire "war as metaphor," however, we should wage one last conflict: a war on guns.
My father was gone two weeks when a man I didn't know -- my mother's new boyfriend -- pushed the butt of a .22 rifle onto my right shoulder and with his big, dirty fingers folded my slender 4-year-old finger onto the trigger