An article on the front page of the Sunday Daily Breeze rather surprised me as I considered it an ad-disguised-as-news. It seems that a 5.11 Tactical shop has opened in Carson to provide law enforcement and military members additional protection out in the field by way of armored vests, nasty-looking knives (all pointy and sharp looking) as well as exotica - a battering ram to symbolically open the doors of this newest location. The writer compared this act to breaking a bottle over the prow of a ship to christen it. Yes, well ...
In the interest of Reporting All to you, I visited the Web site. I took particular notice of what 5.11 (a climbing code, not a police one) offers as bullet proof vests with optional ceramic plates said to be for weight training. What? While dodging bullets?
Am sure that the manufacturers know exactly what they're doing but I didn't think it was very practical to have the armor end about 4 in. from the base of the nipple. Not a lot of help if the wearer is gut-shot.
However: the newest versions come with a "quick grab drag handle" for "the fast recovery of downed personnel." This vest is marked "$209.
Unbidden, I visualized these scenarios - Father's Day when the wife and three or four little kids hand Daddy a bulky package and gather anxiously around him as he eagerly starts to unwrap it. "Oh, honey! Kids!" he cries as he realizes it is a bullet-proof or "plate carrying" vest, "You shouldn't have!" "Nonsense," smiles the wife, serenely, "We all want Daddy around for a long, long time, don't we kids?" Wild roars of agreement swell around the happy, hugging group. Dad brushes a tear from his eyes.
Meanwhile, far across town on the wrong side of things, a young man is down in the furnished basement of his parents' house. He is busily looking in boxes and consulting a hand-scrawled list on a yellow legal pad. Absent-mindedly he ticks off the items, only to interrupt himself suddenly by slapping his forehead with a hand. "Damn! I forgot the bullet-proof vest!" throws down the clipboard and scurries out the basement door. I
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