The Broken Rifle
Copyright© 2024 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 26
“I knew we should have taken my Power Wagon.” I said in sotto-voice mumble.
That was said while sitting just off the road (in the ditch) in a broken brand new triple black imported Suburban look-a-like. We had broken something in the suspension. I’ll admit that the County, evidently, has not been using my road taxes in the proper manner. The (PRIVATE) County Golf Course has newly paved cart paths. The commissioners are members ... I AM not.
Ms Brownshoe was surveying the north side of the road with apprehension. We had a passel of cows headed our way. We were ‘something new’. A stationary vehicle that was not a feeder or a tractor. Cows can be curious.
“In Grand Dad’s day ... the government bought American...” I was expecting an argument ... and got it.
Ms Brownshoe said, “The US automobile companies priced themselves out of business.”
“And your personal protection is Chinese plastic.”
“All the American arms manufacturers were closed ... we, the federal agencies ... had to look overseas for safety and protection.”
“Since the Feds couldn’t rewrite the Constitution they passed the job on to the anti firearms folks ... those rabid billionaires either bought and closed or law suited the American firearms makers to extinction.” To say nothing of the EPA closing the lead and copper mines for the Strategic Metals Reserve Agency”
“Just how do you know that?”
“I read ... print paper ... not Gov.Net.”
“That’s ... that’s ... that’s ... Subversive! ... your a ... Constitutionalist!”
“We have a saying out here in the boonies. Wanna hear it?”
“No!”
“Your Government will screw you every chance it gets.”
“NANANANANANA.”
She was holding her hands over her ears and shouting ... if it was a little less muddy, she’d be laid out in the dirt drumming her heels and foaming at the mouth.