Despite a lifetime of fairly leftist leanings, The Observer has, this past year, surprised himself by developing some rather conservative beliefs.
For example, I now believe that the government that governs best governs least, states’ rights are paramount, the presidency should be reserved for people of high moral fiber, federal agents are jack-booted thugs who want to put us all in FEMA camps, and our national government is run by a cabal of elite pedophiles.
But where I am most demonstrating my newfound conservative impulses lies in becoming something of a gun nut.
I never really anticipated this, although I grew up very familiar with guns. Both of my parents hailed from rural places before meeting in the military, and they raised me with a respect for firearms that now seems almost quaint. When I graduated from college, my dad gave me a Ruger Mark I .22 pistol, but only rarely did I take it out of the box over the next 20-plus years.
However, the reelection of Donald Trump rather wrecked my sense of being safe in Arkansas and in the United States at large, and so I asked a friend of mine, a former sheriff’s deputy, if he could recommend a concealed carry instructor. It turns out that a few other friends and acquaintances were thinking along similar lines, and thus we got a small group to go through the class together, studying under Danny Dring in Sherwood. We ended with a little bit of range time at The Shooters Gallery in North Little Rock — my first time at a gun range, for all my childhood experiences had been out in the woods or at some gravel pit.
Anyhow, things spiraled a bit from there.
I mentioned to one co-worker that I had gotten my concealed carry license, and she said, “Oh, I’ve been thinking about that, too!” Another colleague overheard us and said, “I’ve decided that I can’t really rely upon my husband’s collection of katanas for our defense. What would be a good pistol for a beginner?”
It turns out that more people than I had ever expected were suddenly developing a curiosity about guns here in these waning days of American democracy. I didn’t have a whole lot of experience, but I was someone who had been through the process and wasn’t your typical weapons enthusiast — a friendly face rather than a firearms fetishist.
This is how The Observer started a shooting club.
After all, I didn’t imagine that my meager possession of a license to carry a concealed handgun marked me as some kind of marksman. I knew I needed more practice and experience. And if I was going to get it, why not do it with some friends?
Of course, if you start any kind of group, be it a rock band or a militia, everyone’s first question is: “What are we going to call ourselves?” Given that most members of this group worked in various libraries, we threw around names like Range Masters (as in a range of books) or Kablooie Decimal System before eventually settling upon Interlibrary Loan Gunmen.
In March 2025, we had our first gathering at the Levy Gun Range in North Little Rock. That’s become our usual monthly hangout, though we’ve also met at the aforementioned Shooters Gallery and also Arkansas Armory in Sherwood. Yes, it was intimidating at first, entering this world of weaponry with very little knowledge and experience in my pocket, but at each place we’ve visited for an hour’s range time, I’ve encountered nothing but helpful souls, eager to answer at length any meager question I have. After a year of doing this, I’ve finally realized why.
Gun nuts are just nerds.
You know nerds. You’ve probably made the mistake of saying to a friend who considers himself a cinephile, “Who is this Jean-Luc Godard person?” only to be treated to an hour’s discourse about the impact of French New Wave cinema. Back in the day, The Observer would passionately defend John Ostrander’s original 66-issue run of “Suicide Squad” as the very apotheosis of superhero comics — don’t you dare even mention Chris Claremont’s “Uncanny X-Men” to me.
When I walk into a gun store and hear folks talking about Holosun red dot optics, it reminds me of nothing so much as the comic book stores of my youth. Oh, you say the Colt 1911 pistol hasn’t been paralleled by anything developed since? We used to say the same thing about the works of Alan Moore.
The Observer now has informed thoughts about brands of ammunition. I started on this journey with the goal to defend myself and my loved ones, and maybe even defend democracy. Now, I have a fully fledged hobby.
