In the basement of the Alameda County courthouse, where I’ve been working, there’s a sign announcing that it’s a felony to bring in weapons including knives longer than four inches. Must be an old sign; nowadays I imagine they’d seize the one-inch souvenir penknife that I bought as a child in Toledo. Can I be alone in wondering how a foot-long bread-knife got into the kitchen of the Registrar of Voters?
Saturday morning I was informally admitted to the building before the screeners showed up. “Dang, I coulda brought my guns!”
And on my last day there, I saw papers being hauled in a BevMo shopping cart, presumably stolen. Laws are for other people.