Maine Governorship Campaign – Expect Surprises

My days – like yours probably – are sunup to midnight. Mine include running for Governor of Maine, an educational process, wonderous, arduous, and enjoyable. Days are filled with calls, visits, fielding concerns, and last week, a gun shop and Right to Life dinner – like family – finally drop-ins north to Ellsworth and south to Old Orchard. Occasionally, I spend days at home. On those days, I expect no surprises. I should know better.

Last week was a nod to our Founding Fathers. After talking with law enforcement, calling conservative donors, reading, writing, FOX, Real America’s Voice, and George Hale & Ric Tyler interviews, I got the chance to visit a famous gun shop.

Folks rolling with me noted the 2nd Amendment would come up – of course. Democrats continue trying to jam unconstitutional “red flag” laws on Mainers, a foil for gun confiscation, never learning Mainers like their guns, want to keep them.

One Democrat candidate for Governor is a former Secretary of State, who tried to strip Mainers of their vote for Trump – reversed by the U.S. Supreme Court. A second is the right hand of anti-gun Governor Mills, the legacy daughter of a left-leaning congresswoman. The third is a former Democrat legislator, deep into gun control.

As quick as those Democrats condemn gun owners, push restrictions, and spread fear, I leap the other way, an NRA hunter at 12, Eagle Scout easy with .22s and shotguns, Gun Owners of Maine and NRA member, trained on 9 mm Glock 19 and Sig Sauer in the Navy, own many guns.

To me, gun ownership is like driving a car, something every kid should know, every adult wants to know, worth time training to do well, as much a responsibility as a right. A couple of years ago, I redid my tactical training again, just to be sure I could still handle things well.

Why? Gun ownership is like knowing how to drive, fly, change a tire, speak in public, defend your rights, flyfish, or hunt. It is something you do not want to forget, have to practice, and keep sharp. We only hold our rights – if we use them.

More to the point, gun use keeps you good at something, like listening and talking life with people, campaigning for a state you love, and also fun. So, I went into the gun shop and listened to what worried them – Democrat tax increases, Democrat regulations, Democrat restrictions.

As I listened, my eyes wandered skyward to a rack of guns along the back wall, guns lined up like black and white keys on a piano keyboard, ready to be played, eager to be played, beautiful.

The time came for me to speak. My mind, however, was on the back wall, specifically an old .30-30 Winchester lever-action rifle, the sort talented hunters out West deployed from a horse, utterly enchanting. I asked to see it, waving off advice from those with me. The thing was gorgeous.

The next half hour passed in three minutes, as I learned, held that thing of beauty, remembered the heft of a .30-30 is like an old friend, favored bat, feel of football threads, trumpet keys to someone who once played, comforting.

Long story short, the rifle was not expensive. In a fit of indulgence, I bought it, will shoot this weekend. The truth is, after an hour of conversation about guns, I forgot to mention the campaign.

Walking out, having offered a last-minute pitch for governor, I turned to those with me and apologized. I missed the cues, just loved the gun. They smiled. Guess they know where I stand.

Then came Portland, that wonderful Right to Life dinner. Not a single other gubernatorial, congressional, or US Senate candidate attended. I do not know why. The night was a celebration of life, how precious it is, a reminder of the deceits used to steal this gift from mothers.

The life-changing, gut-wrenching stories of Dr. Abby Johnson, prayer, and simplification of things to what matters, politics set aside for the protection of life, were like a warm breeze, filled with hope.

Then came the day at home – at last. All was quiet, calls made, writing, and a sense of peace settling, until a neighbor called, and soon I was over their way. Why? In the waters before my home, deep in the woods, beside my house – a young moose was swimming, not common.

He seemed to be telling me to take nothing for granted, expect the unexpected, from moose to moose hunters booing the governor – Maine is a free state. My mission is to keep it that way.