Some Thoughts On The Death Of Compromise

We've all heard the news:  Compromise is dead.

Something that most of the people eulogizing Compromise won't say:  it wasn't a natural death. Compromise was killed: little by little by enemies on all sides, by poisons slowly accumulating and a thousand small cuts.  Before Compromise died, it was a shell of its former self.

In those last days, when Compromise was too feeble to object, people called things Compromise that were nothing like the old Compromise from when it was active and healthy.   This is a typical example:

1.         Side A makes a series of demands for concessions from Side B.

2.         Side A proceeds to call Side B obstructive for refusing to accede.

3.         Side A offers to give up on some of their demands “in the Spirit of Compromise.”

4.         Side A calling Side B obstructive if it didn’t “Compromise.”

Sometimes, the side calling for Compromise would stop after making the demands and saying the other side had to Compromise, by which they meant accept the demands or be called obstructive.  When this led to any sort of agreement, the side that got what they wanted usually came back later to demand the things they didn’t get the last time and a couple more besides; lather, rinse repeat.

That sort of behavior was nothing but an attempt to slowly whittle down the other side - whoever that might be, whatever the issue - masqueraded as Compromise.  

Compromise required some degree of mutual respect and a realization that the other side might have some valid concerns, even if one heartily disagreed with their ideas for a solution.

Those things have become artifacts of the past.  

Even in its heyday, there were situations where Compromise was inappropriate.

There are principles on which there could be no Compromise, but people stopped recognizing that the other side *could* also have principles that could not be Compromised and examining whether they were claiming too much territory for their own inviolate principles.  

There could also be no Compromise when one side saw an agreement as nothing more than a step on the road to quashing the other side.  Realizing when it was one's own side intending to undo the other, and realizing when only a few extremists on the other side really wanted to see one's side undone was never easy either.   Making it harder, there was a lot of dishonesty in this - people lying to each other and even to themselves about their real goals.  

Not that I, and probably most of us, weren’t guilty of some of these offenses against Compromise. 

But I guess that none of this really matters now.   Compromise is dead.

Why worry? Be happy. I'll tell you why.

This week I decided to air a personal problem that has plagued me for many years.
 
Lately, an event that occurred in my childhood in the late 70's has been back in the news.  This tragedy had nothing to do with me personally, but, because I heard a lot about it on the news, nonetheless strongly affected me.  If you have been following the news, you may have heard that Captain Jeffrey McDonald, a doctor and former Green Beret, has a new appeal pending in his conviction for the especially brutal murder of his wife and children in 1970.

Although the crime was years old by that point, it was much in the news because of the trial.  Something about the horrific nature of the crime was deeply disturbing to me.  There were other equally frightening things in the news at the time, but this is the one sticks in my mind.  

Every night, I would worry about crime and random misfortune.  Things on the TV, whether the news or fiction, added to my worries.  I worried about things happening to my parents, to my younger brothers (one of whom was much younger, and the other being prone to go wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted, without telling anyone), and other relatives.

Eventually, I told my mother about this, in very general detail, just that I was worrying a lot.  Trying to soothe me, she told me that she, too, used to worry a lot, until she realized that the things she worried would happen seldom actually did.  It was a reasonable answer, a good one, in fact.  Unfortunately, I took it to heart in a completely wrong way.  

Even though I knew, rationally, that it wasn't the case, on an emotional level, I began believing that, if I worried sufficiently about something, I could - somehow - stop it happening.  

If that sounds to you like a recipe for trouble, you are right.

It wasn't healthy for me, but, to a remarkable degree, it kept me happy, at least on a surface level, for a long time. Even though I knew, rationally, that it was false.  Even knowing what I know now, it still whispers seductively to the inner child.

Of course, I did stress more about problems than was good for me, but I managed to keep things in order well enough.

On a Friday night in April 2007 - I remember the event very clearly, I was standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom at our old apartment, washing my hands - the reality that, no matter how hard or sincerely I worried, some things were inevitable  - it was only a matter of time - hit me.  

I felt like I had been tapped in the face with a baseball bat, minus the ugly bruising, concussion and broken nose.

I started having panic attacks, trouble sleeping and difficulty making decisions.  


The habit of worry was so deeply ingrained, that I couldn't just stop.  In a way, it is rather like an addiction. 

When we bought our house the next year, I worried about every little problem we found after moving in.   I remember a couple of sleepless nights over the minor issue of a small leak -fixed with some caulk - along a nail that pierced the siding of the house.

One of the worst problems with my out-of-control anxiety was that the effect of starting a Facebook account was not to bring me closer to friends but to make me angry with them whenever they disagreed with me on some issue I found important.  I took every difference in opinion personally.  

(That we all sometimes assume that everyone on our friends list shares our views and post things insulting to any counter view does not help, but that is the way of even the best of us in these times, and perhaps an issue for another post)


It also didn't help my situation that my mother's health, especially her mental health, has undergone a change for the worse in the last year and a half.   She has had diabetes for the past twenty years and has not taken good care of herself for the past few years.  The effects on her memory, mental state and mobility have been disturbing, to say the least.  I don't know how my father deals with it.

By the beginning of this year, I felt like I was being eaten from the inside.   Things I normally enjoyed didn't please me as much as they used to; often, I even found them stressful.  Sometimes I started crying for almost no reason.  Interruptions to my work routine made me angry and scatter-brained.    

At my lovely wife's suggestion, I finally took the problem to my doctor who helpfully prescribed something for my depression and anxiety.  

What I want everyone to know is that getting a prescription for some anti-anxiety or anti-depression drug isn't giving up the struggle against your anxiety and depression. Getting on a drug that actually helps you is just that - it's getting help.  It won't be the end of your problems, but it will help you begin dealing with the problem instead of just suffering.  You might still need something else, possibly even some kind of counseling, but it is a start. 

The drug didn't solve my problems, but what it did do was take away the worst of the anxiety and allow me to step back and look at them more rationally.  I can look at the future and things that I don't want to happen, but that I know are inevitable.  I may sigh with sadness at the thought, but then I can go on.  I don't worry as much as I did before.  I don't have as much of a problem with stress.  

Something else that now seems obvious, was that the subconscious worry, even more than an office job in the Dilbert world, was what was most detrimental to my creativity.  I've been game-mastering an RPG for six months now, and, even when I'm not sure where I want to take the game next, I don't think about stopping.  It's been almost ten years since I've been able to do that.


I am not well yet, and, like an alcoholic presented with a tasty cocktail, the worry keeps tempting me.  The difference is that I can now say, "no thanks."

I still haven't found what I'm looking for. My search for the ideal pocket gun.

I got my concealed carry permit back in 1998.  At that time, the only guns I owned were full-sized handguns intended to be carried openly in belt holsters.  This meant that they were less than ideal for concealed carry.  After a few early efforts with inside-the-waistband holsters and sweat shirts, which worked well enough, I decided to get a belt pouch (or fanny pack as they are often called) from a local gun store.

For the next three years, I used the fanny pack.  It did a good but not great job; it's real strength was that I did not need to dress around it.  However, though the pouch itself was well-made (good leather), the velcro on the gun pouch part stopped holding very well and the nylon belt stretched to the point where it was obvious that the pouch held something weighty.  This led to my being stopped by a Louisville police officer in the McDonalds on Bardstown Road, who, after seeing my permit, was very friendly and told me the problem.  It was a startling experience, both for myself and the three Mexican gentlemen who were sitting nearby when the policeman asked to see my permit with his hand on his sidearm.

I ordered a new pack shortly thereafter, but I was never happy with it.

Eventually, I went back to inside the waistband holsters and covering garments, but I realized that I needed a handgun that I could carry when I couldn't wear something to cover a holster or when having a holster on my belt could be awkward.

My first foray into pocket-sized guns was more for novelty than anything else:  a North American Arms Mini-Revolver in .22 Long Rifle.   For those not familiar with the products of this Utah-based company, they are works of art in stainless steel.  Their guns are built for durability and reliability - both necessities for a self-defense gun.  They are also small enough that one can be palmed by a person with an average-sized hand; even the change pocket on a lot of jeans will be large enough to hold one.  On the other hand, the Mini-Revolvers are so tiny that they are hard to shoot accurately, though it can be done with practice, and practice with a .22 is cheap.  In addition, while having a gun firing .22 Long Rifle is better than screaming for help, it is still not a great choice for self defense, especially given the difficulty in accurate shooting inherent in the small size of this design.  Reloading is also a chore - the entire cylinder must be removed and the empty cases dumped or punched out before fresh cartridges can be loaded; this is probably the least of the gun's problems since self-defense shootings rarely involve more than a handful of rounds being discharged. 

Ultimately, I decided to let my friend Edward carry the Mini and to look for something else.

Next came a Beretta Model 21, also in stainless steel.  Like the NAA Mini before, it was a .22 Long Rifle gun, though faster to shoot and reload being a double-action semi-automatic.  The Model 21 is a descendent of the same Beretta that James Bond carried in the first few novels before he was issued the Walther PPK.  It is not as small as the NAA Mini, and suffered somewhat from having an overly large grip for it's size.  Still, it was light and quite easy to carry in a pocket, and much easier to shoot accurately with the larger grip and larger distance between the front and rear sights (sight radius is what we call that in the shooting community).

What ultimately soured me on the Beretta was its low power.

I decided to look at something in .380 ACP.

This is a very popular self-defense caliber, not so much because it is powerful as because there are a lot - and more every day, as more states allow concealed carry and more people take advantage of this - of choices.

North American Arms produces a beautiful .380 called the Guardian.  Like their Mini-Revolver, it is a solid, reliable design produced in stainless steel.  However, having had some experience with the Guardian, I knew that it suffered from severe recoil.  Twenty-five rounds fired in practice was enough to make my hand hurt, and I am not generally recoil-shy. The problem with the gun is that, despite being heavy for its size - all that stainless steel - it is a straight-blowback design, where the slide, pushed by the casing from a fired round, is thrown back from the fixed barrel. 

I decided to look at the newer designs, which, in addition to being polymer-framed and lighter, are delayed blowback.  The barrel is not locked to the frame and moves rearward with the slide for part of its travel when the weapon is fired.  This does a lot to soak recoil.

The pioneer of these new designs is Kel-Tec, a Florida-based company known for their innovative yet low-cost designs.  They have their detractors, to be sure, as the early runs of their new products tend to have some bugs.  This is an unfortunate problem with the transition between hand-built prototypes and mass-produced parts.  Their extremely attentive customer service, however, does a lot to mitigate any issues.  Their P-3AT (get it?  3-A-T?  .380?  Oh, never mind) set the standard for modern .380 pocket pistols.  It is not very expensive (generally between $250 and $350 new), reliable once broken-in, and no larger than the Beretta Model 21.

At least three other companies have designed and built near-copies:  the Ruger LCP, the Taurus TCP and the IO Hellcat.

After handling the 3AT and it's competitors in shops, I decided to go with the Taurus.

For me, the Taurus scored over the others primarily because it fit my hand better.  However, unlike its competitors, it also came with two magazines (the others come with one) and a carry pouch that was actually useful; this appears to be a cell-phone pouch, so it draws little or no notice, even if you are obviously carrying another phone, since lots of unfortunate people have to carry a work phone.

I bought my TCP in the morning on a day in early July 2010 and took it immediately to the Green River Gun Club shooting range.

After a quick tear-down and cleaning to remove any packing grease, I proceeded to fire 250 trouble-free rounds from the gun; that included a number of Remington Golden Saber hollow-points (and many guns do not function properly with hollow-point bullets until they have been fired three to five hundred times).  Better still, my shooting hand did not hurt in the least.  Compare that to the mere 25 rounds that it would take for the NAA Guardian to leave my hand aching.

On the down-side, the low, smooth sights on the TCP, designed to make it easy to draw from a pocket, do not lend themselves to accurate shooting, or at least not to great shot groups.  After two years, I am still not satisfied with my ability to shoot the Taurus, though I would probably do well enough in an actual shooting situation since I can get all my shots into a human torso-sized target at twenty five feet.

One concession I did have to make to carry the TCP was to get a thinner wallet and to dump all the unnecessary cards and such I was carrying in my old wallet.

Despite any problems, though, the Taurus does carry well.  I can carry it in a jeans pocket behind my (thinner) wallet and still access it without problems.

 This year, I decided to "move up" to an actual 9mm pocket gun.

Why?

9mm is considerably more powerful than .380 and more likely to have the necessary penetration for self-defense purposes.  It's also cheaper to buy for practice - compare $9.95 for a 50-round box of cheap 9mm target ammunition to $15 or more for the same number of .380 cartridges.

With the hot market for pocket .380's, it was inevitable that many companies would try to produce something more powerful, yet still small.

The gold standard for the pocket-sized 9mm semi-automatic comes from Kahr Arms, who produce a number of designs both in all-stainless steel and polymer with stainless steel slides.  They even, as many of their designs are more pricy (~$600 or more) have more budget-priced models (~$400).

In addition, the usual suspects, Kel-Tec, Ruger and Taurus, all have entries into this field, and at a slightly lower price point - $300-$350.  The Ruger entry, their LC9, is particularly well-regarded, but the others appear to be solid designs.  As with their .380, Kel-Tec was the budget leader that Ruger and Taurus followed.

I lucked into a Kahr CM9, their budget-priced, polymer-framed pocket 9mm, in lightly used condition, which made it even cheaper than normal.

As with the Taurus TCP, I was greatly impressed by just how controllable this small, yet full-power,  gun was.  Yes, it does have a healthy kick, but it is not painful or unmanageable.

The sights are better than the Taurus as well; I suspect that I will progress faster in my accuracy with the Kahr, but I have only been shooting it for three months.

There is, however, a down-side.  The Kahr is definitely a larger gun than the Taurus TCP, or any of the other pocket .380's for that matter.  In fact, it is enough larger that carrying it behind my wallet does not allow me to draw it easily, and makes getting my wallet and putting it back in my pocket a lot more difficult as well.

I'm not sure what course to pursue as yet; I want to carry the more powerful and accurate Kahr, but have gone back to the Taurus TCP because it works well-enough and is much more easy to pocket.  It may be that I have to shift around the contents of my pockets.  I am a creature of habit, so I have trouble with even seemingly trivial changes to things I have done for many years.

In any event, I still haven't found the solution I am seeking.