I probably wouldn’t pass muster. There are way too many things that I’m sure the Inquiring Public would like to have explained before allowing me to represent them. God, what a nightmare that would be. BUT, on the high side, I did pass muster with the State of Florida in order to get and maintain a nursing license and a gun permit. The investigation concerning the gun permit actually turned up something the Board of Nursing didn’t—something I had forgotten entirely.
In Florida, you can’t get a gun permit if you have had any arrests related to substance abuse or domestic violence. They address arrests, not convictions, which I think is just a bit unconstitutional because anybody can be arrested for anything at anytime.
Anyway, around 2005, I took a gig as a body guard and courier and decided I needed to carry a gun, so I went down to get a gun permit. The background check is supposed to only take three days. After a week, I called the guy and he said there was a problem. He said the Cook County Sheriff in Chicago had an outstanding warrant on me. I said that was wierd because I hadn’t set foot in Cook County since 1973. He said that was about right. I had a warrant out on me for contributing to the delinquency of a minor from April, 1973, and they decided to drop it, but it still would prevent me from getting a gun permit.
So, I called the Cook County people and they went into this deal where I had been popped for buying alcohol for a minor. I told them that on that date in ‘73 I was the minor and I bought nothing that night. I was at my brother’s wake who had been killed three days earlier on the railroad and before I was to escort his body back home to our mother, the railroad guys—a few of whom served with him in Vietnam—took me down to their little railroad bar and everybody got shitfaced. I was an angel-faced skinny brat, 6’ 2” and 160 lbs wet. A bunch of non-railroaders entered the bar and a huge brawl suddenly broke out—chairs flew, guys fell onto tables and flattened them, shit was flying through the air—it was like an old western film. The guys shoved me under the table. We all ended up down at the county jail. I don’t remember much until my big sister came down, bailed me out and pushed me, sick as a dog, onto the plane carrying my brother’s body to Florida.
I was the minor being contributed to.
Everything was expunged and I got my permit.