Always a sound idea. It's better to have a gun and not need it, than need a gun and not have it.
I had a discussion about this with the property caretaker this afternoon, and he agrees it would be so much wasted time and trouble.
A firearm is handy for self-protection if one is aware there's something one needs protected against.
But if one isn't aware, it's just carrying a few extra pounds of cold metal around; a nuisance.
He reminded me of the first time he met me, many years ago. As previously instructed, "the door's unlocked, go ahead and come on in, because I won't hear you knock anyway," he came on in.
The front door opens into the dining room, and then there's an alcove sort of thing, and then the living room. The computer here sits on a very large table in the alcove, in between the two rooms, and when I'm at it, my back is to the front door.
When he came inside, I was sitting at the computer (i.e., my back to him), comparing cash-register journal tapes with financial data on a disc. He first hollered, thinking that somehow I'd notice him.
But I just continued sitting there, absorbed in what I was doing. So then he moved towards the dining-room table in the dining room, thinking I'd catch him out of the corner of my eye. No dice; I wasn't aware he was there. So he shifted to the living room, thinking I'd catch him out of the corner of the other eye. No dice.
He stood there watching me, wondering how to make me notice he was there.
Finally he garnered up the courage to tap me on the shoulder.
There's a lot of nonsense spewed about when one's missing one sense, the other senses "compensate" for the absence, such as the alleged "better eyes" of the deaf. That's bullshit; the senses work in unison, complementing, contributing to each other, and if one is absent one of them, all the other senses are diminished to some extent.
(i.e., sound stimulates sight; one hears something and looks around.)
It's an unfortunate state of affairs, that all communication with me specifically has to be up close and in a touching matter, but as one can't do anything about it, well, one accepts, adapts, and moves on.
Even in impersonal world events--well, the way I learned about 9-11 shows this. The neighbor, who knew of the attacks via radio and television, knew I can't do radio and won't bother with television--and one couldn't telephone me with the news--thought I should know of it, and drove over here to tell me. It was fine early-autumn morning, and I was stacking firewood into the back of a pick-up truck, without a trouble in the world.
I hadn't had the internet connected yet; otherwise, I would've never had the slightest idea until the morning newspapers came out on 9-12.
I'm always behind the curve, but what can one do?
The most-talked about thing, locally, pertaining to my unawareness of what's going on, is from three summers ago, when during the middle of the night, the funnel of a tornado hit the ground half a mile north of this house. (It however was a very tiny tornado.) Knowing I would have no idea of any danger, the county attorney (in his role as county coroner) and two volunteer firemen braved the pounding rain and wind and hail to see if I was okay.
It had been a tiny tornado, but it had strewn trees and stuff all over, right on this property.
But here, I'd slept safely like an infant all through it.
If one's not aware, one can't react.
<<takes things as they come, but never before they come.
