I was born. Relatives tell me that I looked like a poached egg.
We lived in an apartment show-cased in the popular magazine, Squalid Living.
Ma Plum was first mate on a kayak. Pop Plum sold Chiquita bananas on the street. Unfortunately, Chiquita soon had her fill of bananas, and Pop promptly went out of business.
Skipping lightly over the developmental milestones...
**Incessant lying. "I'm hungry. I'm hungry."
**Feeding myself a foul gruel-like substance with a rubber-tipped spoon (the gruel didn't have the spoon. I did).
**Throwing toys out of my crib and laughing (Oh, very mature!)...
...I became an adult.
However, my early symptoms of CPD, or Compulsive Prank Disorder, endured. Beginning with pointing to the ceiling, saying "Look. LOOK!" and then running away (which brought fewer laughs than I'd budgeted for, possibly because I was alone), I graduated to tying people's shoelaces to the legs of their chair. This was endlessly amusing. And it remains endlessly amusing.
In high school we spent weekend nights cruising the streets--in Lester's black '57 Chevy, or Eddie's maroon '47 Mercury, or Frankie's metallic blue '56 Ford, or my Grandpa Charlie's red '59 Buick convertible--trying to "pick up" girls (Well, not girls. Young ladies).
Our famous pick-up line was, "Hey, wanna ride?" We were smooth. One time we "scored" !! Unfortunately, it was Eddie's little sister and her little girlfriend. (Well, I guess they were of average dimensions.) We all went to Howard Johnson's and got ice cream. I forget which flavors. But that's not germane to the story.
Grandpa Charlie looked a lot like Telly Savalas in Kojak. Great dresser. He'd been in--shall we say--a profitable "family business" during Prohibition, along with my Uncle Sam. Another of my relatives was a shooter in a St. Louis gang. You don't believe it? Google Isadore Londe.
The Londe family goes way back. Spain (1500's)--kicked out. Then France--kicked out. Then Russia (Odessa)--left just before the cossacks got to the village to wipe us out. Then the Good Old U.S.A. Garment Industry and "The Family Business."
Professor Plum went into the Army when he was 18. National Guard Infantry. He loved it. How could he NOT love it? Good food. Plenty of exercise. Good buddies. Outdoors. Tribal. Mastery of tasks. All the firearms you want. Service to Our Nation. And they PAID you! Later, he came back. He was too young to know what was good for him. [Silly ass.]
Professor Plum went to college, got married, became a perfesser, bought a house, had kids, and moved a few times--in a fair impersonation of an adult.
He still misses the Army.
M1 Garand
After a couple of years, Professor Plum carried this baby.
Browning Automatic Rifle (BAR)
M 1911 Pistol
Prior to 9/11/2001, Professor Plum had not held a firearm since 1965.
After 9/11/2001, Professor Plum began systematic study of our Enemy.
He heard U.S. Senators and Representatives, college perfessers, media talking heads, and even his friends--all speaking as if they had gone quite mad.
Had they NOT read the enemy's holy books, the charter documents of the enemy's front organizations and field offices, and speeches of the enemy's religious leaders?
Did their therapeutic New Age liberal postmodernist America-blaming, morality-relativizing world view legitimize mass movements that sought nothing less than death to our civilization---as if We were somehow "enablers" of terror, or were receiving karmic consequences of our own sins, or needed to be more tolerant of cultural differences, or should talk to the "insurgents," or "extremists," or "fundamentalists," and resolve what must be simple misunderstandings?
Professor Plum believes that few things are either black or white. [Well, except for things that ARE black or white.] But in this case he was certain down to his bone marrow that the only persons and groups with any sense and guts, and who could be depended on, were Patriots---persons and groups who saw that the wolves were coming down from the hills, who knew that only clear thinking ("They ARE the enemy, period.") and unwavering aim ("If there are only five of us left, we WILL defend our land and people against them in ANY way necessary and without a second thought.") would save us.
Professor Plum knows that many persons will chuckle at the word Patriot and will scoff at anyone who says he is willing to die to defend his countrymen. These same persons reveal that they live in a dream world. They will not chuckle if they are bound and kneeling and about to have their heads removed.
And so Professor Plum armed himself and his family.
With a Maverick 12 gauge shot gun.
With an M1 Garand, 30.06, just as he had carried 40 years earlier.
With an SKS semi-automatic rifle, 7.62 x .39 caliber.
With a .357 magnum Smith and Wesson revolver.
With a .44 magnum Ruger Super Redhawk revolver, that, with Hammerhead cartridges, will stop a truck.
With a .45 caliber Kimber semi-automatic pistol that is deadly accurate and never jams.
And a .45 caliber Smith and Wesson Airlite revolver, for concealed carry (licensed).
Professor Plum's friends shake their heads as if to say, "Poor fellow. He has finally gone 'round the bend. More to be pitied than censured."
They speak of the enemy as "fanatics" or as "extremists" (and in doing so try to minimize any sense of threat and therefore the will to act), not knowing that reading the enemy's own documents would show that terror, beheading, and world conquest are not aberrations but have been core principles and methods for 1400 years.
However they look at it, one thing is clear. They are completely defenseless.
Professor Plum and his new friends..........are not.