The kids. The kids. The kids.
With all I contend with these days, the three thoughts expressed above come first.
Never the less, I see the wolves at the gate. Once, I simply sought to keep them at bay. Today, I’m like any rancher protecting his herd. I now see the wolves as my prey.
When dealing with wolves, ranchers do not Google attorneys, draft documents or serve summonses. They take more direct and finite action, usually with rifles.
I am no rancher, although the U.S. Army did a fine job of training me in the basics of marksmanship. I have no doubt I could still pick off a charging wolf at 300 meters. Today, however, though I have less use for an M-16 than I might for a set of bagpipes, I remain determined to protect what is mine.
Life — and history — has taught me that violence is never the answer. In our society, a person’s ability to think on her/his feet is a greater defense than an entire infantry unit. That said, I am finished back-pedaling from spurious legal challenges.
For better than a decade, I have been as law-abiding a citizen as can be found on the continent. I mean, I observe stop signs on pitch-black, 2-lane farm roads cutting through corn fields after 3:00 am. So now, when shyster lawyers come at me with boiler plate complaints they’ve filed at friendly courts knowing full well their judge buddies will rubber stamp their motions, I refuse to take food from my kids’ mouths because some self-important schmucks “order” that I must.
Get it straight — I am drawing a line in the sand because it is my right as a U.S. citizen, a veteran, a concerned and involved father and a decent human being to do so.
Yes, there had been skeletons in my closet, but in the interest of what was once my family, I have long since grabbed a crowbar and pried open that door. I gathered the dusty bones within and gave them a proper burial. I no longer have anything to hide.
The trouble for those looking to use a clearly biased court system to extract easy rent money from me is that I was smart enough to hold on to that crowbar. I wonder what skeletons might be exposed once I get to work on their closet doors…or how much more they have to lose than I ever did.
I wasn’t looking for this, but believe me, I am game.