AN INTRODUCTION TO THIS BLOG…
When I was younger, the idea of traveling the world didn’t particularly appeal to me. My ex-wife always shared her dreams of traveling through the United Kingdom, and I usually scoffed at it saying “why would I want to go someplace cold and rainy with crap food?” In other words, I responded like the ugly american the world has come to loathe.
Fast forward many years and I’ve now traveled more than most and less than some. I can say unequivocally that I was an ugly american (UA) back then. Loud, insular, arrogant, and most of all naive to the world. Unfortunately, there will always be some amount of UA about me but I console myself that I can at least recognize it.
And so, after much reflection I’ve come to a place in life where I want to document my experiences, past and present. Shine a light upon an industry and profession that is sometimes revered, sometimes viliffied, and oftentimes mysterious to outsiders.
I am an Arms Dealer.
I didn’t create this blog for fame or notoriety. I created it as an outlet, albeit anonymized, for my frustrations, highs, lows, loves, feelings, and most of all my travels.
While I hope some of you will find this journey engaging, I also hope that you take it for what it is. A viewport into a world that is misunderstood often rather dramatically.
Contrary to stereotypes, I’m not a Republican, I didn’t vote for Trump, nor am I a right wing militia and gun fueled ego maniac. I’m just a guy from the center of the political spectrum who ended up in a profession and an industry that has ultimately started to eat away at my very soul.
I used to think it was exciting the first time someone finds out what I do for a living. There was a definite ego boost, but I have never been able to wear it very well. Mostly people have three sorts of responses to my profession; “That’s so cool! Is it like that movie?”, “That’s absurd – nobody actually does that!” or worse yet they start to become hyper focused on the work instead of me as a human. It’s this last point that has taken the largest toll on me.
While I have no shortage of stories and experiences to share with friends, I keep them quiet in my personal life to avoid the attention. As a result and combined with a host of other issues, I lead a relatively solitary existence and get most of my social interactions at my local pub. There, I’ve created a community, a nest if you will, where I can sit quietly amongst people who know what I do but don’t make an issue of it.
I’m a middle aged, normal person, and these are my stories. My work, my play, my travel, and my viewpoints of all manner of things (including how the arms trade actually works and why it exists)