My Last Spring Break Ever

My younger brother Ryan has lived in Kona, Hawaii for the past four years, and I have visited him once - four years ago. For my birthday yesterday (happy spring, everyone!), my parents gave me a trip to go see him. Here are some of the things that I just finished putting into my suitcase:

1 tent
5 books
1 bike helmet
1 book of crossword puzzles
1 pair of hiking pants
4 pairs of opened-toed shoes
3 seasons of Arrested Development (Well, I borrowed these to take with me, but Ryan actually already owns them.)
2 swimsuits
1 pound of Sees candy

This has the potential to be one of the best weeks of my life.

Things I Hate, Part I: GUNS

The gap between gun owners and people who don't own guns - that is a vast gap in our country. It's two different cultures. - Ira Glass, host of This American Life

I went shooting last weekend. I shot a real gun, and I liked it. It was the first time my hands had ever touched a firearm.

It happened on a date with someone whom I had briefly met only once. When he proposed the date, he refused to tell me what we were going to do, but he promised that it would be "mind-blowing," and he recommended that I not wear heels. He was bringing a friend, and he told me I could invite one too. ("Hey Christy, do you want to do an unnamed activity with some guys I don't know?") She and I had dinner at Whole Foods before they picked us up in the largest, shiniest Ford truck I had ever seen. I think my entire Accord could fit into the truck's cabin. I couldn't help but ask: 12.5 miles/gallon.

Once we were in the car, they announced that they had brought their guns - my date owns about a dozen - and that they were taking us to an indoor shooting range. "You should probably know upfront," I said, "that I voted for Obama, I hate the NRA and I barely believe in the Second Amendment. But, I am always up for a new adventure." Which is true. Which is why I was actually pretty excited.

The first thing we saw when we arrived at the "range" were two dudes getting arrested for drug possession. Awesome. Undaunted, we got outfitted with bullets, goggles, ear plugs and targets - one of which was a creepy picture of Osama Bin Laden holding a machine gun. Christy had gone shooting before, but the boys very patiently taught me how to load, aim and shoot. Turns out, I'm a pretty good shot! I destroyed Osama's pocket and his beard, for which I credit my excellent teachers. We shot a revolver that had a strongish recoil and hurt my hand, and two different slick 22's. A few times, I forgot I was holding a gun and would turn to ask the guys a technical question, waving the firearm in the air. They calmly reminded me what was in my hand and asked me to put it down.

I think I understand gun appeal now. It's really empowering to control this intense machine and get it to do exactly what you want. The 22's we used were small, light and easy to handle. Shooting them was so simple; it really felt like no big deal. And that is exactly why I think guns are so pernicious: just a quick "no big deal" flick of the finger has power over life and death. That's scary.

I don't feel the need to go shooting again any time soon, but our gentlemanly friends did an excellent job of working to close the gap between gun-owners and gun-haters.

This weekend, I'm taking my date to a choral music concert. I hope it's mind-blowing.