FROM THE EDITOR



	Unsound laws are like bridesmaid's dresses, if I may be permitted 

a Gumpism.



	People (such as your former best friend, the bride) can swear up 

and down that you look really, really good in, say, pastel orange lace, 

but no one is fooled.  Even people who are always on your side (like your 

mom) will only be able to manage a tepid, "it doesn't look that bad."  

Vested interests (like the mother of the bride) will tell you that this 

monstrosity, that makes you look like an out-of-focus dish of melting 

sherbert, can be worn again and again to a variety of functions--but you 

are not buying it for one single minute.  Don't even think about getting 

me started on the matching hat!



	Unsound laws, like bridesmaid dresses do have a variety of 

functions, although none is to enhance the health, wealth or welfare of 

the wearer.  It may be, as the cruelest have suggested, that the 

bridesmaid's dress is designed to make the bride look as good as 

possible.  Less conspiracy oriented folks, especially those who have 

never been a bridesmaid, might put the absolute best face on the 

situation and claim that the bridesmaid's dress functions as a compliment 

to the radiant bride, embellishing the occasion with extra glamour.



	The day a "peach"chiffon sheath with matching lace three-quarter 

sleeved bolero found its way into the Goodwill bag (and believe me, I 

know this wasn't charity in the sense) was the day the Department of 

Justice announced that one year after the enactment of the Brady Law (nee 

Brady Bill), the federally mandated five-day waiting period had resulted 

in the prosecution of only four people on its first anniversary.



	Appropriately, "paper" is the traditional first anniversary gift, 

and the Justice Department did have that in abundance.  In addition to 

the four prosecutions, US attorneys have declined to prosecute four 

others, are weighing action in 27 other cases and claim a grand total of 

40,000 blocked purchases in 28 states and territories where the law is 

applicable.



	On the face of it, 40,000 "blocks" sound pretty good, something 

for Justice to wear proudly.  On the other hand, 40,000 less four (okay 

less 4 + 4 = 27) equals 39,965 people who were denied the right to 

purchase a handgun under the Brady, but who were apparently no felonious 

enough to warrant even the contemplation of prosecution.  Presumably, 

those 39,965 people are free to attempt to purchase a handgun again 

legally (or illegally).  "Where's the deterrent?" ask Larry Pratt of Gun 

Owners of America.



	Pratt and others also question if all of the successful "blocks" 

actually blocked "criminals" from purchasing handguns.  Opponents of the 

measure claim that a lot of the people denied the first time were only 

criminals by dint of traffic violations, or worse, because problems with 

computerized records are rampant in the system.  "There are people being 

wrongly denied their constitutional rights due to misidentification and 

unpaid parking tickets," said Tanya Metaksa, executive director of the 

National Rifle Association's Institute for Legislative Action.



	That's a lot of people who at best were inconvenienced by a law, 

that, like the bridesmaid's dress, "doesn't look that bad."  Most people 

are conditioned to accept a certain amount of "inconvenience" in their 

lives, and I doubt that there are very many people surprised to learn 

that our friendly government (state, local or federal) could make a 

mistake.  But what about people who were more than inconvenienced?  And 

how do we (as opposed to the government) define "inconvenience:" merely 

having to explain--that you're not a criminal?  What if you had to hire a 

lawyer to do so?  Would it merely be "inconvenient" if you had to explain 

to your boss that you were missing work tomorrow so that you could go 

disabuse the government of the notion that you were a dangerous felon, 

and, oh, by the way, you were, as soon as that was all straightened out, 

going to buy a handgun?  And going to buy a  handgun?  and just how 

"inconvenient" would it be if, because you were denied the right ot 

purchase a firearm, you and your family were left without the means of 

protection in the face of a perceived threat?  (The dirty little secret 

of Brady is that it is not exactly a prenuptual agreement--it doesn't 

prohibit you from already owning one, two or a hundred firearms, it can 

only affect your next purchase.  Therefore, it penalizes only first time 

purchasers in the face of a threat, anyone else can use what they already 

have, even if it is not the firearm they want to buy.  So, in a worst 

case scenario, where one single gun that you do not already own is what 

stands between you and the treat, you will wait five days for your 

government to decide if you are who you say you are.)



	Still, the Justice Department, with Ms. Reno acting the part of 

mother-of-the-bride, thinks, "it's very important that they (criminals 

attempting to buy handguns) be pursued."  In other words, ugly, unwieldy, 

unworkable Brady can and should be used as a vehicle to pursue criminals, 

even at the expense of other more straightforward solutions to the crime 

problem.



	And, like your former best friend, Ms. Reno would prefer that you 

somehow believe what she is saying--that something that doesn't work does 

and that something that never should have been created, just like orange 

lace, not only should exist, but looks just great--rather than the 

evidence of your own eyes.



	Handgun Control, Inc., who bullied and chivvied Congress, several 

presidents, the media and the American public can only be assigned the 

part of situation comedy bridal shop owner.  "Obviously, we're 

disappointed with the low figures," said its spokesperson, Susan 

Whitmore.  Note that there is no talk of a refund to the public, Congress 

or, especially, overworked, underpaid law enforcement who have taken on 

the added burden of enforcing Brady, but it is a rather imperious "we" 

that is  disappointed at the "Your disappointed that you look like a 

citrus-colored blancmange, why, just think how disappointed I am to have 

sold it to you!"



	And then thee is the rather crass matter of, well, money.  A 

bridesmaid's dress is not cheap, especially when you consider you are 

never going to amortize the cost by wearing it again.  Unsound laws, 

like Brady, are also pretty costly.  Alan Gottlieb, founder of the Second 

Amendment Foundation, estimates the cost of one background check at $24.00 

each.  Twenty-four dollars times 2,356,376 (the Justice Department's 

estimate of the total number of background checks performed under Brady 

in the first year) is a somewhat larger sum, however--$56,600,000--which 

would buy a lot of canapes for the reception.



	What about all the well-intentioned gunowners who told pollsters 

that they "favored" a waiting period, or found it "reasonable?" I'm afraid 

they are yet more cast in our fictional wedding party--perhaps the 

groomsmen who know that even a bad tuxedo looks infinitely better than  a 

bad bridesmaid's dress.  Easy enough for them to say you shouldn't 

complain about wearing an unflattering dress or abide by a law that 

doesn't affect them.



	Some, or even all of this may be moot, as legal challenges to 

Brady continue to work their way through the courts.  Five federal courts 

(in Arizona, Louisiana, Mississippi, Montana and Vermont) have already 

struck down portions of Brady on constitutional grounds, and suits are 

pending in three other cases.  Time is also against the waiting period-as 

more and more states move toward an "instant check" system, Brady will be 

phased out.



	Still, it should stand as a lesson to us all, but one hopes, 

especially to lawmakers and bureaucrats that unsound laws are more than 

unwelcome guests who didn't bother to RSVP but show up to eat food 

anyway.  They have consequences that have yet to be dealt with, and they 

inspire an increasingly skittish public to decline to participate in 

government.







Peggy Tartaro,

Executive Editor