I’m beginning to grasp the perverted logic behind Texas’s concealed-carry handgun law.

This morning, just before 11, knowledge of the law prevented me — I’m guessing — from making a potentially grievous mistake.

My wife and I were traveling west on 45th Avenue after running our weekly breakfast date and an appointment with our chiropractor. I was feeling all “adjusted” and ready for the day when we approached the intersection of 45th and Teckla.

Then it happened. Some moron — with a passenger riding shotgun in a large pickup — burst through the red light signal and came into the intersection right in front of us. I swerved suddenly into the right-hand lane of traffic, realizing after I’d done so that there was no one in that lane. Good thing, too.

I was so angry, I blurted out — inside the closed cab of our pickup — an exclamation followed by a very bad word. Kathy didn’t flinch. She didn’t say it, but I know she agreed with me.

I entertained briefly the idea of pulling up beside this guy and shouting some more bad words at him. Kathy talked me out of it.

She didn’t need to say a thing. The thought began running immediately through my mind that this brain-dead fruitcake could be packing a pistol in his truck. Thus, we have a lesson in the perverted logic of the concealed carry law, which the Texas Legislature enacted in 1995 — over my strenuous objections, I should add.

I was just a lonely voice in the wilderness, I guess. I did fear the thought of traffic-intersections shootouts when the Legislature was considering the law. Turns out my fears were overblown.

In fact, as today’s incident proves, it seems the opposite may be a consequence of the law.

Let there be no misunderstanding. I’m still not crazy about the law. However, I’ve come to accept the argument that the law — and the knowledge that we don’t know who’s carrying weapons — does foster better manners and some restraint among drivers when they’re nearly killed by moronic motorists.