Did I really live in the U.K. for 18 years? I did. Without a gun! And I lived to tell the tale. Before you remind me of the rising level of violent crime—including gun crime—in The Land of Hope and Glory, I want you to know that the Brits are not like you and me. For example, this from Auntie Beeb: “Hertfordshire and Bedfordshire police plan to scrap blanket home visits, with people renewing [shotgun] licences on the phone.” No wait. Not that. This: “I would say it’s an irresponsible way of going about it because you can’t tell what people are like when you’re just talking to them on the phone.” That, my friends, is a gun owner speaking. And this, dear readers, is a gun dealer . . .
I would say it’s an irresponsible way of going about it because you can’t tell what people are like when you’re just talking to them on the phone. You can’t stop people going mad but there’s no way you can tell that people are going mad. You can have some form of screening in a face to face meeting.
Anyone who wants the Old Bill to come for a cuppa and a quick firearms inspection (excuse me sir, is that safe bolted to the wall?) is barking mad, if you ask me.