This article was printed from KeepAndBearArms.com.
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How often lately have you heard frightened conservatives -- reacting
to unmistakable evidence that their "revolution" is a fake -- argue with
Libertarians: "Why can't you be satisfied to work within the Republican
Party. You're not gonna win. All you do is take votes from us and help Democrats.
Want Bill Clinton for another four years?"
Which puts me in mind of something that happened recently in our
family that may tell you what kind of people we are.
My wife Cathy has wanted a high-powered rifle a long while, to
hunt antelope, mule deer, and elk. I knew less about rifle ballistics
than the ballistics of handguns, so we made a careful project of
deciding what gun -- especially what cartridge -- would be best,
taking into account accuracy, power, the amount of bullet-drop at
long range, reliability, recoil, her size and weight, ammunition
availabilty, and, to some degree, aesthetics.
We decided on a bolt-action manufactured for .270 Winchester, the
second or third most popular cartridge in America. We also decided
that any of three different brands would fulfill our specifications,
a Winchester Model 70 (preferably pre-1964), a Remington Model 700,
or a Ruger Model 77. Because Cathy felt it was beautiful -- and in
spite of the stupid political views of corporation founder William B.
Ruger -- she chose the Ruger, a model called "International" due to
its long, graceful "mountain" stock.
We were unable to afford a new rifle for her immediately, and
because of Ruger's politics, she preferred to buy used, rather than
pay him another cent (we own several Ruger firearms) to support his
liberal-appeasing ways. Then last week, while we were in a local
emporium after something else, Cathy asked the proprietor if she
could look at rifles (a rite of passage for her; gunshops can be
intimidating for women) and mentioned her preference for a Ruger
Model 77 International, in .270 Winchester.
"Got one coming Monday," the proprietor told her (this was Friday),
"from a guy who really needs the money. You oughta be able to get a deal."
Well, that was a very long weekend. Cathy had "gun fever" as
badly as I'd ever seen it -- not all that different from "car fever",
which I've also seen, or "computer fever". Also known as the
"wantsies", I've had it myself, many times, and she's suffered
through it with me. This time, it was my turn.
Monday came and it turned out the guy wouldn't be in until
Tuesday. When the calendar finally ground around to Tuesday, the
proprietor, hoping for the best, told us he had the gun, it was,
indeed, a Ruger Model 77 International, and in beautiful shape.
Trouble was, it was a .30-06, not a .270.
Cathy ... well, all weekend she'd been mentally sighting the
damned thing in at 300 yards. I even looked into having it
rebarreled, but these days, that costs about as much as a new rifle.
So, we politely turned the proprietor down. He was disappointed --
he'd wanted to make a sale and help his friend -- but being a
rifleman himself, he understood. The .30-06 just wasn't what she
wanted.
We're still looking. And ever since, I've been thinking about
what it would have been like if Rush Limbaugh had been behind the
counter, unhappy with Cathy's decision.
"I just don't understand," he would say. "Thirty-ought-six,
two-seventy, -- what's the difference? Why can't you be happy with
what's available? Why do you have to hold out for what you can't
get?"
"You mean what you don't have in stock?" Cathy would reply. "Because
it's what I want, Rush. Because my husband and I did our homework:
.30-06 won't do all the things I expect from a .270."
"But it's such a tiny difference! The primer's the same, the
powder's the same, even the cases are almost the same.
Three-hundred eight thousandths minus two-hundred seventy-seven
thousandths (the true diameters in question). That's only thirty-one
measly thousandths of an inch!"
"Yes, and because of that measly thirty-one thousandths, I can
shoot further and flatter, and with only about half the recoil;
.30-06 hurts when it goes off in a light sporting rifle, and
doesn't kill game as cleanly. It was designed for war, where the
object is to wound the enemy, not kill him, so he uses up more of the
other side's resources."
"You're just too picky," Rush would pout. "Thirty-ought-six is
the only game in town. You keep insisting on what you want, rather
than accepting what you can get, you'll hafta wait a long time -- and
you may not get what you want, at all."
"Listen, if I can't get what I want, I don't want anything
else. What would be the point? I'm willing to wait, even take the
risk of not getting what I want, because -- if I buy what you've
got to sell, Rush -- I won't be getting what I want anyway. Will
I?"
"Okay, lady," Rush would scowl at my wife, "that's it for you.
You've failed the kook test!"
Rush never will get the point because, besides being a political
wussie, he's a gun wussie, too. Maybe I should have written this
about expensive cigars, but I stopped smoking three years ago, and
don't know anything about them. Maybe accepting only one percent of
what you want -- along with another 99 of what you don't want -- is
okay where cigars are concerned.
But the inconvenient truth is that Republicanism is not what
Libertarians want. It won't abolish taxes or economic regulations, it
won't end the War on Drugs, it's getting worse about abortion and
censorship, and, deep inside, it's just as terrified of privately-
owned weapons as Democrats are.
Libertarians want something else, as different from the policies
of Republicans as from those of Democrats. Libertarians want control
of their own lives, something Republicans and Democrats claim they
want, but have demonstrated that they hate and fear. So, no matter
how much Republicans whimper -- even if it means Democrats may win --
real Libertarians will go on voting for real Libertarians.
Because we're willing to wait for what we really want.
Really.
My home on the web, The Webley Page: www.webleyweb.com/lneil/
My e-zine The Libertarian Enterprise: www.webleyweb.com/tle/
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