I never wanted a gun. In fact, I wanted to never own one—until around noon on Thursday, August 20th.Since the late 1990s, I’ve lived in Venice, California, renting a one-bedroom Craftsman house a mile from the ocean that someone built out of a Sears-catalog kit 100 years ago. I’m a science-based syndicated columnist and author, currently working all hours to complete a book that keeps trying to kill me. Luckily, I’m writing it in this cute little old lady of a house on my sweet Venice block.Whenever it seems I’m pointlessly pushing words around the page, I’ll step out the front door and...…I never wanted a gun. In fact, I wanted to never own one—until around noon on Thursday, August 20th.Since the late 1990s, I’ve lived in Venice, California, renting a one-bedroom Craftsman house a mile from the ocean that someone built out of a Sears-catalog kit 100 years ago. I’m a science-based syndicated columnist and author, currently working all hours to complete a book that keeps trying to kill me. Luckily, I’m writing it in this cute little old lady of a house on my sweet Venice block.Whenever it seems I’m pointlessly pushing words around the page, I’ll step out the front door and...WW…