Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Notes From The 4/23/06 Blogger Shoot:

Both SayUncle and I brought our 9mm AR carbines. Pretty much everyone else there decided that they needed one, too. Big, dirty fun to shoot. Cambi loader works swell with Colt mags, not so much with ProMags.

I also brought along a 3" Smith & Wesson Performance Center 627 V-Comp, circa 2002, and a 3.25" Smith & Wesson .38 Safety Hammerless, circa 1899. The double action trigger pull was, um, slightly worse on the older gun, but it still ran just fine. We'll do a retrospective on the PC627 in 2109 AD. ;)

One of the shooters was a guy who started shooting at our range about a year or so ago, renting .22's. He brought along a stack of his own pistols he'd bought since those days, and even shot the Notorious Deagle. That was cool to see. It's neat to watch someone go from novice to enthusiastic shooter over time.

Kirk did not get a hat that said "I drove all the way from Maryland, got beaned in the noggin with flying brass, and all I got was this stupid hat." (But he would have, if I'd had one to give him. ;) )

At Ruby Tuesdays afterwards (which was a sobering experience, what with me having forgotten my papieren at home. "Sobering"? Get it? Anyway...) I found myself seated between SayUncle and Les Jones, both of whom I'm pretty much of an age with, as they passed cell phone pics of their cute little girls back and forth and waxed all parental. I resisted the urge to mumble "Well, I have cats." I took consolation in the fact that the Beemer has no accommodations for a child seat. (The canvas of the top wouldn't be enough to prevent Mommy's Little Bundle of Joy from achieving low Earth orbit when the air bag deployed if I tried to put one in there.)

Anyhow, a grand time was had by all. We'll need to do that again sometime.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

My wife and I are "of an age" with you. The cats (plus the Big Dumb Dog) are an emminently suitable substitute.

Besides, I don't have to cat-proof my firearms storage. On the day that The Pest grows thumbs he'll be too busy playing with doorknobs to mess with my guns anyway.

Sounds like you guys had a blast. I need to go out and play with my boomsticks soon. It's been too long.

Anonymous said...

As Denise at the Ten Ring says having a piece of brass the size of a waste basket hitting you in the head is just plain painful.

Especially if the rim of the just emptied cartridge decides to take you just above your glasses between the eyes. Just remember scalp wounds like to bleed...

And Yes I got the hat...

phlegmfatale said...

I'm 40 and have obviously fallens short in the female prime directive to people the world. When left out of conversations about the fruit of others' loins, I take great satisfaction in the fact that rather than having children, I have an incredible dog that I own in a way I could never possess another human being. She is mineallmine and will be with me until one of us shuffles off this mortal coil. Just think, you and I will never have to tell our cat/dog about sex/drugs/war/taxes. I think the innocence of a housepet helps us keep in touch with a myopic contentment despite life in a world gone mad. Children, on the other hand, are agents of chaos and bent on bringing that mad world into the home. Good on us, I say.

phlegmfatale said...

when oh when will I start to take advantage of the preview button? My typos mortify me, fyi. My brain works more efficiently than my fingers.