A reader responding to a post recently stuck a dagger into my heart: He called me "a liberal."

Oh Lord. What to do. Stereotyped forever as one of those, God forbid, "liberals."

After my blood pressure returned to normal, I had to stop and think. What did I do to become "one of them."

Liberals, as rule, oppose capital punishment. I support frying felons who kill other people, especially those who kill cops or commit murder as part of rape, spousal abuse or child abuse.

Liberals support gun control. I don’t. I have enough guns to start a good-sized revolution.

Liberals love labor unions. I hate them. Labor unions outlived their usefulness many years ago and now help drive jobs overseas.

Liberals love big government. I despise government — big or small.

So how in the hell did I become a liberal? Damn good question.

The problem with being labeled a liberal comes from the desire of others to stereotype those whose opinions might differ from their own. I didn’t support John McCain, therefore I must be a liberal. I thought the Republican Party had lost sight of its founding principles. Ah, that’s a liberal talking.

Truth is, I’m neither a liberal or a conservative, a Republican or a Democrat, right-wing or left wing. I support some causes that are liberal, some that are conservative and many that defy classification. I’m a pro-life gun nut, a free-market liberarian who belives nobody’s life, liberty or property is safe while Congress is in session and the White House is occupied.

I’m an American. That’s the only label that I accept or desire. No others need apply.