Last Sunday saw a first for me but by the following Friday afternoon I was not inclined to readily bring it up. That day, at the age of 61, I fired my first actual firearms. My thoughts on the atrocities of December 14, 2012, curdle in me and are centered, as much as one can hold steady, on various American "culture" norms.

My friend H. took me. He is accomplished historian and collects various firearms from a historical perspective; for what it's worth, not a Republican or NRA oriented fellow. We did this on a sanctioned range and it was strictly run---as you'd better expect. With what did I take my first shot? A Winchester .22 from the 1930's with rounds about the size of a vitamin B-complex. Around us were shooters with .308 and 7.62 mm two-hander's. The size of the shell which comprises its part of those rounds was sobering, as was the din.

That said, H. and I have had various conversations, one last night, which reflect on what is legend and what is, and always being refined, as fact. He was a movie and television prop maker and I want to cover something from that in another blog.

When hanging around someone long enough one doesn't necessarily compete but here I wish to not brag but tell a story from work which illustrates my current understanding of attempting to tell it like it is/maybe.

Yes, the fiery ultra-liberal college professor setting the record straight, drying mouths and raising pulses in classrooms has been a demon or hero depending on which far end of the social tug of war the true believers are pulling---and often raising hell.

During my time at the bus lot something designated a safety feature was in stalled in the motorized denizens thereof. When the ignition on the bus was shut off, a buzzer sounded, loud and not soothing as buzzers are wont to be, and the shut off button at the rear of the passenger compartment. Partial spoiler: I forget where the actual buzzer was so, in writing as I understand an objective historian does, I am not claiming to be certain where it was/is.

Back to this part of the bus run, the driver shut off this buzzer after walking to the button.

Why was this mechanism installed? On the walk back to the button, after the run was officially over, the driver could spot if there was a child left aboard, definitely verboten in a bus yard. I would hear it described in various terms indicating child detector.

A fine sentiment, but no. Shut off engine, hear sound, walk a dozen or more rows back and push a button, sound suppressed. That's just what it is and is part of a long procedure in which the driver checks many things at the end. But with the lights on, horns stuck, wipers going and whatever else I would a few times each week on buses tied up for the night no, the buzzer did not guarantee potential child sightings.

For when I write more blogs commenting on legends and facts, that's the historian perspective. The "cult" of personality as mentioned earlier, professors and pundits, is an add-on, of which we've always had plenty, certainly after horrid events.