Chiraq

I heard the shots.

Bang, bang, bang......  bang!

It sounded like it came from right outside our window. I sat up in bed and asked, "What was that?", but Mark was sleeping, completely exhausted by all the moving. By the time I walked into the living room to look out the front windows, the street was swarming with police cars. In my backyard were cops with semi-automatic weapons and police dogs. This made Chandler bark, but still Mark slept. It was just a little after midnight and some asshole had taken a potshot at a police car. This, of course, brought down the full wrath of the CPD. Just as everybody had warned me, Chicago was a shooting gallery. Guns... mother fucking guns. Chicago is awash with them. Of course the NRA says that "It takes a good guy with a gun to fight a bad guy with a gun." Well that was the 'good guys' with a gun that the little gangbanger took a pot shot at.

My new neighbors and my soon to be ex-tenant have assured me that Acadia Terrace is one of the safest neighborhoods in Chicago. I believe them, but still somebody fired a gun within thirty feet of my bedroom window last night. A bad guy with a gun. So how is it that these bad guys get these guns? I'm pretty sure they don't have a secret factory producing guns for them. No, they get their guns from the "Good Guys with a gun." They may steal them, buy them with the help of a straw man purchaser, or buy them on the street. No matter how they got them, the guns originally came from "The good guys." It truly pisses me off how fast and loose "The good guys" are with securing their firearms. What needs to be done are civil lawsuits against private gun owners who don't adequately secure the guns that they are so in love with. I mean, I love my dog Chandler, but I am anal about keeping him secure and not allowing him to run after people and bite them.