I like nothing more than sliding behind the wheel, 2 tons of steel, glass and rubber encasing me as I survey my Interstate 15 kingdom, don't you? Anyone ahead of or beside me on the road, watch out. I'll ride your bumper. I'll switch lanes faster than Cher changes costumes on a farewell tour. If you should see me huffing and puffing in rage, or hear me laying on the horn, cest la vie. I am the boss, the queen, the all-powerful Oz.

And because I have my own rolling castle, I should have every right to defend it - with a .357 Magnum if I want, and with no concealed weapon permit to pack it. I mean, who wouldn't want to abscond with my vehicle, this 6-year-old Honda Accord with door dings, a monstrous 4-cylinder engine and purring automatic transmission? As wheeled castles go, it's not exactly the Palace at Versailles, I'll grant you. It's more like a listing A-frame, a fishing cabin, its paint peeling and with no indoor plumbing.

Who cares? It's my castle, and I'm in charge.

What got me thinking about this is the "home-castle principle," characterized as such by state Sen. Mark Madsen, R-Lehi, this week in the Deseret Morning News. There is always a lot of lofty deference to "principle" at the Legislature, but this apparently took Madsen's colleagues by surprise. Unbeknown to legislative leaders - who started this session determined to sidestep all gun issues in favor of roads, education and ways to exact revenge on Rocky Anderson - Madsen went ahead and filed Senate Bill 175. As of Wednesday though, it hadn't been written. For now, the measure is sitting in the Legislative Research and Counsel office, assigned the title "weapons amendments" but containing no text.

Madsen proposes a law that would extend the same rights we have in our homes to our vehicles. Unlike our homes, state law allows for carrying a gun in a vehicle only if the weapon is unloaded and secured, or if the owner has a conceal and carry permit. Madsen would like to turn that statute on its head. Give the king of the castle the right to carry a loaded gun without a permit. A pistola in the glove box, or under the front seat would be nice. It's just such a hassle for the driver under threat to have to fiddle with a locked gun case or struggle with loading a weapon when time is of the essence.

Kind of gives a whole new meaning to "defensive driving."

In my rolling castle, I often have a set of loyal subjects, also known as my children, along for the ride. If I had the right to pack heat without a permit, I could enlist these serfs in protecting our dominion. If a fellow driver cast me a menacing look at a stoplight, I could order one of the kids to reach into the glove compartment and whip out our "protection." Just to show 'em who's boss, you know. This would be our right. Our principle.

In between hours of ruling the roads from my wheeled palace on Wednesday, I wandered the halls at the Legislature, trying to research the possibility of Madsen's bill going anywhere. The upshot: At nearly halfway through the session, Republican leaders are in no mood for surprises, especially for those of the tired old Second Amendment variety. They are all about paying for roads, baby.

Two lobbyists for child safety issues - the folks who always oppose liberalizing gun laws - just rolled their eyes at the "car is my castle" concept. "No guns this year," one told me. "I've got strict orders against getting caught up in that issue."

It was a fun notion while it lasted, though.

hmullen@sltrib.com