I’ve reached that age where even normally insignificant things can wind up reminding me of how many years I’ve already been on the planet. Like using a gift certificate, for example. The other day, the simple, common act of buying something with a gift certificate left me rolling my eyes, muttering under my breath and dying to escape the store with even a tiny shred of my dignity still intact.
Let me backtrack just a bit. I probably shouldn’t admit to this, but I still have a black leather man-purse or “murse” from my mild and lazy early 80s period. It’s actually a holdover from an ancient fashion trend when all of us cool and trendy guys carried a small, masculine looking leather bag so that we didn’t have to shove a wallet and car keys into our too-tight Angels Flight pants. Who am I kidding? I’ve always had thighs like old growth Sequoias, so even 35 years ago I could only dream of wearing skinny, leg-hugging pants like Angels Flights. Oh well. So let’s say that I didn’t want to ruin the svelte lines of my flat front Dockers, okay?
Anyway, these days a fat wallet in even my nicest Champion sweat pants isn’t going to ruin my ultra-casual (some people, like my wife, would say ‘sloppy’) look. Even so, I’ve hung onto my worn, old black leather murse in which I now keep things I don’t use very often – like department store credit cards, airline mileage and rental car cards, pet store loyalty cards, petrified candy … you get the idea. For some reason, even my old Glendale Community College student body card from the mid-70s is in there. Maybe hanging on to it reminds me of my college days. Whatever.
In cleaning out some of the expired cards from my murse one day, I came across a gift certificate that had been given to me for a long ago birthday. It was for a big local sporting goods store and was printed on a 4 by 8-inch piece of paper with the store’s logo. Handwritten in ink was the value of the certificate. How quaint, right?
I couldn’t believe I hadn’t used it yet in all these years. So the next time I was out and about I stopped by the store in question, found a few items I couldn’t live without and proceeded to check out.
When I handed the gift certificate to the sales clerk, he took it as if I was passing him the Dead Sea Scrolls in all their antiquity. I mumbled something about not knowing if it was still valid seeing as how it had been in my wallet for quite a few years. With bulging eyes and gaping mouth, the clerk exclaimed to the employee at the register next to him, “Look at how old this thing is! Like, I’ve never seen one like this!! Wow … like, we should, like, frame this or something!” He really, like, said that. Out loud. I’m frankly surprised that his outburst didn’t cause a traffic accident outside the store.
Long story short, the store honored the certificate. In fact, my purchase that day was less than the amount on the certificate. I had a refund coming back to me which the loud young lad was kind enough to put on a plastic gift card – just like all the other cards in my wallet. Knowing me, it will now likely sit inside my murse for many more years.
And who knows, by the time I finally use whatever balance is on the thing, some other prepubescent store employee may even hold it up for all to see and say, “Wow! How long have you had this thing?!? Did you inherit it from your grandfather? I’ll bet the guys on Pawn Stars would buy this relic off you!”
Then again, maybe I’m being too sensitive. I hear that happens with old people.
I’ll see you ‘round town.
I’ve been a gun enthusiast (I’ll let others add the “nut” appellation) since my youth. I learned to shoot a .22-caliber rifle out in the Mojave Desert about the same time I learned to ride a bike. Today, at any given time I have several long rifles, pistols, revolvers, shotguns and/or black powder firearms in my gun safe. I don’t hunt. I don’t belong to the NRA. I wasn’t raised in the backwoods somewhere and was never in the armed services.
I’m a college educated, Bible-believing, law-abiding Southern California native who simply enjoys shooting firearms and practicing the skills necessary to repeatedly hit all sorts and sizes of targets (some of the moving) at various distances. And yes, I take comfort in knowing that I have the ability and the means to protect my people and property should, God forbid, the need ever arise. (Never forget: when seconds count, the police are only minutes away.)
Does that frighten you? How about if I tell you that while guns have been in our home, my wife and I have safely raised four happy, healthy and well-adjusted children – not one of whom has ever fired a gun either accidentally or on purpose at each other or any other person. Our kids have a healthy respect for firearms, know how to properly handle, maintain and shoot most types of guns and fully understand the immense responsibility that is attached to owning and using guns of any kind.
This should help you understand my great frustration (although not much surprise) upon hearing that the Glendale City Council – in their infinite wisdom – passed a resolution last week to ban all gun shows from city-owned property. This means that the semi-annual (or more often) gun show at the Glendale Civic Auditorium, an event that has regularly occurred for 20 some-odd years, will be no more. (Note: for non-Southern California readers, Glendale is a major suburb of Los Angeles, CA.)
In a purely emotional response (one of the worst reasons to pass legislation) to the Sandy Hook school tragedy of last December, along with pointing out the obvious fact that the Civic Center is across the street from Glendale City College, a majority of the City Council voted to ban gun shows on city property effective immediately. Apparently it doesn’t matter one whit that the gun show operators have a contract with the city through November of 2014. Or that no one can point to a single violent or even illegal incident as a result of the gun show.
I have not only attended many Glendale gun shows over the years, I was also once a student at GCC. Frankly, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if a sweep of the cars in the college parking lot on any given day turned up a cache of firearms that would stock any gun shop in the country.
Such foolishness as perpetrated by the City Council last week is the result of what is sometimes called the “do-something” disease that afflicts too many present-day politicians; intoxicated both by power and the desire to, well, do something. Anything. And so, legislation is passed that no rational, thinking person can expect to have even the slightest effect other than to take away something from those who can’t do anything to stop it from happening.
But at least the hand-wringers and do-gooders in the cash-strapped Glendale government can say they did something. Speaking of cash, it’s been reported that in 2012 alone, the three gun shows held (without incident) in Glendale generated approximately $55,000 just in rental and parking revenue. That figure doesn’t include money spent locally by out-of-town guests visiting Glendale to attend the popular gun shows here.
It’s also been reported that the operators of the show rightfully intend to sue the city for breach of contract. I cringe to think how much they will win in damages that will naturally be paid for with already depleted public funds. Now that, good people, is something to get emotional about. I’ll see you ‘round town.
