By David E. Petzal and Philip Bourjaily

My Fellow Americans:

I will be brief. Yesterday, I was contacted by a Mr. Paul Jon Henke, who handles "new media" relations for Fred Thompson, the tallest Republican presidential candidate who is also an actor. Mr. Henke has sent us the following statement, which the Gun Nut is running as a public service. The statement is about the U.N.'s position on the individual ownership of guns:

Last year, the United Nations Sub-Commission on the Promotion and Protection of Human Rights declared that international human rights law requires all nations to adopt strict gun control laws. These “minimum” provisions are much more restrictive than any of those on the books anywhere in the U.S. and would almost certainly violate the Second Amendment of our Constitution.

Thankfully, the Framers of our Constitution recognized this potential peril to our liberty, and enshrined in our Second Amendment the more basic right of self-defense. The U.N. can say what it likes about other countries’ citizens’ possession of small arms being a violation of human rights law, but so long as the United States is a sovereign nation governed by its Constitution, its words will have no effect here. And I am glad for it.

My own feeling is that the U.N. would screw up the recipe for ice water. The U.N. could not break up a fight between a couple of girl scouts. The U.N. building would make an excellent high-rise apartment site. But I’m not running for president, Mr. Thompson is. Your thoughts, please.

By David E. Petzal and Philip Bourjaily

Here is a nice story. Glenrock Blue is a tiny gunshop cleverly hidden on a back street in the miniscule town of Glenrock, Wyoming. It's run by the husband-and-wife team of Phil and Di Filing. Phil handles the metalwork and Di does the stocks, and together they bring guns back from the dead. You bring in some old beater that looks like it fought and lost at Little Big Horn and they will have it looking better than it did when it left the factory.

Anyway, I was there a few weeks ago and Phil handed me a Model 54 Winchester bolt-action .30/06. The serial number was 90-something, which meant it had been made in the late 1920s. It was in fine shape, except for some rust at the muzzle and on the front sight ramp, and it still had an ancient 2.5X Weaver scope mounted right down on the receiver, ahead of the bolt.

The owner wanted the rust polished out and the barrel reblued, which would just about ruin the gun for a collector (As it was, it would bring $1,500 or so from someone who wanted it bad enough.), and Phil told him so.

"I know," said the owner, "but my father gave it to me 50 years ago, and it was in perfect shape, and I want to give it to my son in the same condition."

Now there, I think, is a man with his values as they should be.

If you're interested Glenrock Blue, the phone is 307-436-2330; gunbluing.com. Be advised, however, that they don't turn guns around overnight. They are famous among shooters of taste and culture, and they have a lot of guns to work on.

By David E. Petzal and Philip Bourjaily

At the recent Remington Seminar where they introduced the R-15 black rifle (that is really a camo rifle), a number of the older gun editors were seen to mutter in their false teeth about the radical turn that an old, traditional company like Remington was taking, and how they disapproved.

At length, one of the attendees spake unto them, saying:

"Look, you've got thousands and thousands of young guys out there who love these things, and if it keeps them shooting, I'm all for it. A lot of them learned to shoot from a drill sergeant; their fathers didn't teach them. They were busy playing golf or jogging. This is what they know and what they like."

I don't remember who said it, but give the man a medal. We've been Bolt-Action Nation for so long that we forget we were once Lever-Action Nation, and that what converted us was millions of young men being introduced to the 1903 Springfield, courtesy of the U.S. Army and the United States Marines.

As long as it goes bang, let us think kind thoughts about it.

By David E. Petzal and Philip Bourjaily

Back in the early 1980s, I was invited to join a group of men who went out to dinner every Thursday evening. They were all customers at a small-town gunshop who had gotten friendly with the owner. An extremely unlike group of people, they included myself, two gunsmiths, a retired New York State trooper who was now a locksmith, a high-school English teacher who had a degree in comparative literature from Harvard, a Wall Street plutocrat, and a machinist.

We would go to a local restaurant, ogle the waitresses, argue, insult each other, and talk about guns and hunting and the military. The intellectual progress of mankind did not advance one iota, but we enjoyed ourselves and each other.

Of course it did not last. One of the gunsmiths moved away; the Wall street plutocrat retired and moved as well; the machinist and the English teacher died, and finally the gunshop itself closed. We were all very lucky to have had what we did, and we knew it even at the time. And I can't think of anything save an interest in guns that can bring together so disparate a group of people, again and again, in place after place.