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In the past few weeks, the Nugent family hosted film crews from China, Russia, the Australian 60 Minutes TV show, and of course NRA News and others at our beautiful home SpiritWild Ranch in Texas.

In the escalating insanity of the embarrassing politically correct culture war, everybody craves the glowing logic, truth and common sense, and dare I say, bubbly effervescence that I bring to the gun control debate. You dare argue with me about our sacred 2nd Amendment and I will go Piers Morgan on your ass and you will lose. Know it.

And the reason I slam the door shut so thoroughly on anyone who attempts to support any more infringement on our God given, US Constitutionally guaranteed individual right to keep and bear arms, boils down to my consuming lifetime addiction to logic, self-evident truth and good old down to earth pragmatism and utilitarian reality.

Afterall, much like my chainsaws, blow torches, woodchipper, welders, front loader, posthole digger, giant off-road vehicles and industrial sized roto-tiller, my lovely arsenal of beautiful firearms are simply tools, inanimate objects that optimize rugged individualism, independence, accomplishment and ultimate survival.

I was only in the Cub Scouts and Indian Explorers for a brief time growing up in Detroit, but being raised by a gungho US Army drill sergeant drove home the ultimate and pivotal determination for quality of life; discipline, and lots of it.

The discipline to think for myself and improvise, adapt and overcome has served me very well for a most wonderful 64.5 clean and sober years of my American Dream, so far.

I live and die by the lessons derived from my higher level of awareness forced bowhunting lifestyle. A bowhunter either learns to pay ultra-close attention to every minute detail, or he will buy chicken. And that is embarrassing.

I don’t buy chicken. Tribe Nuge has forever sustained ourselves with the precious renewable protein of venison, and believe me when I tell you that the spirit is more fortified than the belly from such sacred flesh and the challenging pursuit thereof.

Way before the term prepper ever surfaced, I conducted my life as the ultimate independent survivalist.

During all these interviews, the main subject is mostly gun right’s, but it always evolves into a lesson of preparedness. When I express the responsibility of having fire extinguishers and 1st aid kits always on hand, even when we have very rarely or never needed these essential supplies for a responsible life, I am able to dramatically emphasize this essential need for certain things on a daily basis which differentiates the needers from the providers.

I begin to reach into my pockets, no matter where I might be, no matter what time of year, and begin to whip out what I carry on my person everyday of my life for more than 45 years.

I start with my shirt pockets by showing my sheriff credentials, cellphone, pen, Sharpie and small notepad.

I then reach into my front jean pockets and pull out my small flashlight, official Ted Nugent Vicotrianox “Farmer” pocketknife, house and truck keys, chapstick, lighter, collapsible reading glasses, guitar picks and small hearing protector valves.

Going for my back pockets I pull out the real item that separates the men from the boys, my ubiquitous large handkerchief, wallet with all essential items like gun permit, driver’s license, insurance card, hunting license, a few business cards, credit cards, band-aids, small magnifying glass and pictures of my family and dogs.

Lifting my untucked shirt, I display my Gerber belt tool, a medium sized folding knife, my Glock G20 10mm and 2-6 spare magazines. More often than not, the backup Model 29 comes out from the small of my back.

It has never failed to cause a white-eyed gawking of disbelief from the interviewer. When I remind them how we all experience the same helplessness from others every day asking for a pen and paper, a lighter, a flashlight, a bottle opener, a pliers, a knife, a screw driver and at varying intervals a desperate need for virtually everything I have on me, I see the lights fire up in their heads with the acknowledgment that one is either prepared or helpless. Period.

Not a day goes by, whether I’m ranching, farming, hunting, fishing, trapping, guiding, training, hanging out at home, on the road or touring all summer every summer, that all these essential tools for readiness come into play one way or another.

The Glocks are used everyday when home and usually otherwise, but even in my travels across America I am fortunate enough to train or just shoot for fun with law enforcement, military or just buddies and then all the ammo and firepower is very handy.

And of course I don’t carry a fire extinguisher on my person, but I do carry all I can just in case.

So a vociferous Uncle Ted SALUTE to all those rugged individuals out there that are ready to rock and assist the sheep amongst us. Simply chuckle with confidence when soulless people feign fault with our time honored Boy Scout motto of always being prepared. They will be the first in line feebly begging for help from those of us smart enough to be ready to provide it.

When in doubt, whip it out. Be ready to rock. It’s the American Way.

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