More and more lately, I find myself drawn to the idea of buying guns to prepare for the future.
No, I don't mean hoarding high-capacity scary-looking guns in some "get-'em-while-I-can" effort just in case Hillary wins the White House; I mean buying old guns to prepare for my future. Seriously, if you're past a certain age, how will anybody take you seriously at gun shows if you don't have a table full of ancient Colts, Smith & Wessons, and South American Mausers on which you can hang crazily inflated price tags? Oh, and then I have to practice yelling every time someone under the age of thirty looks like they might be about to touch one. Wouldn't want a new generation getting interested in collecting, would we?
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15 comments:
Along with the yelling practice an "air" (*eye-watering*cough*) of benign neglect towards personal hygiene goes. That'll teach 'em!
Ma'am:
I'm sure there's something to be said about becoming a little over-cantakerous, but sometimes it's not without reason. I've noticed a serious decline in the politeness and common-sense levels at most of the gun shows I've been to lately.
The worst things are the egregious violations of the 4 rules that I find being perpetrated all across the floor. It's everything I can do to stop from hitting the floor every time some idiot sweeps me with the muzzle of a pistol or rifle (often with a magazine inserted, and the action closed up...not even THEY can tell if it's got one up the spout or not).
The second thing is the urge of everyone to just pick something up off the tables, without bothering to ask permission first. I personally never even touch something without first making contact with the seller. It can be as simple as offering an open hand with a raise eyebrow (and getting a nod in return), but I always get permission first. Only rarely has somebody indicated that they'd prefer people to not handle them...in which case, I move on.
So I can sympathize with the crustaceans who yell at some twit who's about to put their peanut-butter-cookie-covered hands on a mint-condition 1911 in Colt Royal Blue.
But then, I'm now a geezer myself, so maybe I've got a weird perspective on it.
Oh, I dunno if old guns are the only way to go in this scenario. For instance, a pimped out M4gery with the insistence that this was yer personal weapon while defending Briar Oak Mall from the unwashed masses for 37 years might qualify.
"So I can sympathize with the crustaceans who yell at some twit who's about to put their peanut-butter-cookie-covered hands on a mint-condition 1911 in Colt Royal Blue."
If gun shows resemble guitar shops at all, then I'm with you.
"Hey, kid: you can worm the back of that Les Paul with your Levi's rivets after you buy it, okay?"
I don't have a problem with distributed signs on tables that say "Don't Touch Without Permission." The better ones then go on to say "Feel Free To Ask, Though!"
Hand any and all askers an oily towel to wipe their hands on while you hand it to them. (I don't mind cable alarms, either, too much. Some people have their entire retirement sitting on that table, and a gun can get lost in a crowd with the blink of an eye.)
I do know what you're talking about, though-- I got yelled at by a man who was a professional gun-counter guy rep'ing his gun shop at a show, when I wanted to handle (and asked, thank you very much) a matte stainless 1911. I needed to see if it had the firing pin interlock in it before I spent the $700 that was burning a hole in my pocket. I had come that gun show with intention to buy a pistol just like that one. I got yelled at, and walked away.
Perhaps I could forgive the guy if I looked like a gang-banger, or whatnot. I was a casually (but not slovenly) dressed off-duty cop. What. Does. It. Take?
As for your getting some old guns for street cred, I'd say you're on your way.
You're right, Tam - guns is one of those hobbies where the older generation tries mightily to get younger shooters to walk away dejected.
I keep having the odd thought that I should open a co-op bank where the money is backed by guns and ammunition in the vault, instead of a soft shiny metal with good conductive properties.
To Hades with the gold standard. Bring on the lead/brass/steel standard!
I've made up my mind to get ten new people shooting every year. I got two so far in 08, and before 09 is over, I want to see if I can be an NRA trainer.
The behavior of which you speak- our local range has one rangemaster like that, the other is one of the finest men I ever met. WHere do they get them?
Sorry to hear that your first 1500 had a negative. Most dealers aren't like that.
I've noticed this behavior as well. I read, and used, Xavier's gun show rules before going to my last one, so I felt well prepared. However, I was handling the Kimber of a walker when a nearby dealer started to yell at me because he thought it was one of his guns. Guess who didn't get any of my money that day?
matt g,
1911? off duty cop? doesn't compute! Cops buy Glocks! Just repeat the Mantra! "There is no gun but a Glock!" You gotta be careful man, they'll kick you out of the force! Stick with your choosen stereotype! Don't go rockin Da Boat, Dog! ;-]
Regards
Diamondback
Heck, the Kimber was his duty gun for a while, too.
The stories it could tell if only it could talk, no doubt.
Ahh... He's a Texan! They are exempt from the almighty COP = Glock law. I knew a Texas cop that carried a Peacemaker... probably still does.
Diamondback
Yeah, we get those idiots more and more down here in Florida. They pile all their shit on the table, sit there and look smug or ignore you completely and when you pick up a firearm to examine it because you are interested in buying it, the person has a conniption fit.
If you want to sell it, people might want to pick it up and look at it. If you don't like that, post a gotdam sign on the table.
I've refrained from buying a few nice firearms for just this reason.
If you have a nice gun for sale and you want too much for it, I still will more than likely buy it if it is something I really want. If you treat me like some kind of street hoodlum just because I picked up and looked at what I was going to buy, I'll put it right back where I found it and tell you where you can shove it to boot.
Stupid asses don't put up a sign, don't say anything and completely ignore you until you pick up one of their guns then think they can get away with lecturing you in front of a crowd of people.
Not with me. I'll put your punk ass in your place.
Joe
Well, I figure that a certain percentage of "sellers" at shows are really there as recreation. They aren't intending to actually sell anything, unless made an offer they can't refuse.
Now, at a real gun store, that is where it would seem you wouldn't run into an attitude. Ah, but you would be wrong. I've dropped into gun stores across the country in my travels, and attitude seems to be a common item in stock. I encounter the "if you ain't buying it, you can't touch it" sales appeal, the "I'm a bad ass, tattoo wearing, mercenary-just killing time until the next African contract-what the hell do you want?" counter commando, and other delightful denizens that would be better employed as floorsweeps at the local helsangels clubhouse. The ultimate counter help was encountered in a little shop in Vegas about 4 years ago, where a friend and I were looking at HK stuff. When he asked to see an item sitting in a display case, the clerk began issuing lethal force threats against us if we didn't leave. We left. (I've seen my friend throw plastic down for a shop's entire dozen+ HK rifle inventory.) While in Vegas for the shot show, we checked out the HK dealers. That shop is still there, but we didn't darken it's doorway. Figure if the owner is stupid enough to employ that clown, he doesn't need any business.
At a guesstimate, I would say about 1/3 of the shops I have visited have an unwelcome attitude toward customers. This varies from clerk to clerk, to some degree. What I don't know is if these attitudes are ok with the owner, or what. But, the sneering, or condescending clerks are costing the shop money, and driving away new blood in gun ownership. A double whammy.
(whoops, got to stop dragging this darn box-a-soap around to step up on)
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