Many of the things I see that bother me in our little part of
the world, usually grate my eyeballs while I’m out doing something routine or mundane.
I think that’s the way it is for most of us. When our minds
are almost on autopilot, we
have the free space in our
heads to discern things we
might not normally catch.

In this latest case it was while
I was getting a newspaper and
a beef patty near Guy Brewer and Linden Boulevards.

I stopped in a store that was
for all intents and purposes a bodega.

Inside the normal array of cheap, overpriced staples — bread on the shelves in front, milk and high proof poisons in the refrigerators, candy in shelves only the cashier could get to, the newspapers in a stack near the breads and in the front deli case – was the pre-packaged beef patty I wanted originally.

I thought for a moment about the notion of re-heating the frozen or half frozen patty.

Then I thought about continuing my drive another few blocks to a place where I knew at least, the patties were kept warm.

I grabbed only the paper.

By then some small kids, about 8 or 9 years old – came into the store to get candy and make noise about some frivolous conflict. Hearing these children use the language they were using made me roll my eyes.

It was in the act of doing that, when I saw what made me not buy anything at this particular place.

Above the cashier’s head, just above the condoms and the long distance calling cards were some cheap toys.

They were all hanging from the little hook holes cut into them at the plant, but between the cars, and fake cell phones was a group of items that were too real for me — toy guns.

Yes, they had those stupid red tips that can be easily removed, which when clipped off would make them look like revolvers. There they were in plain sight, the plastic reflecting some of the light from the florescent bulb they were just below.

I thought to myself, what is wrong with these people?

Whoever owned the place obviously had a fear of violence or why would they have an anti-robbery, stay open late slot in the store.

Why then continue to perpetrate a notion of fun in violence? If you still don’t get it, guns aren’t toys.

Just ask the mother of that 14-year-old Bronx girl that died after her friend was playing with a 357 magnum last weekend. Or the family of another young girl — a 7- year-old who clings to life after being accidentally shot by her 12-year-old brother in Harlem a few days later, that same weekend.

Even though many of us played all those games associated with violence when we were growing up like "war", "police" or whatever, these are much different times today.

My kids don’t play with guns. They didn’t get the concept at first, even questioning my rationale. I decide to change that one Friday night with a trip to the emergency room.

We were living in Florida then so it was a bit of a drive to a hospital where I would be able to make my point.

Once there – it wasn’t long before paramedics rolled in the first gun-shooting victim.

This poor kid, about 20 years old at the time, was wearing a white tee shirt that was soaked through and through with blood.

The medical techs were holding his side as they rolled him by us. I pointed and said, "that’s what guns do."

I never heard a complaint about toy guns ever again.

I know that may sound drastic and it may be something that you couldn’t do but what you can do is to tell your kids about the real destructiveness of guns and not what they see on TV or in video games.

If you, for some stupid reason, have a gun in your place around your children, get rid of it or lock it down.

Don’t buy guns as toys for your kids and don’t patronize places that would rather make a quick buck to sell you one, rather than get with the program of reducing the same violence they are afraid of.