Run that gun!

Short post today, simply an instructive warning.  Prior to carrying a firearm that you might depend on to save your life or someone else's, shoot it; shoot it a lot.

Some background:  Several months ago I began a search for a more “modern” off duty/ backup up gun.  My current off duty / backup firearm is a Smith & Wesson 5 shot .38 special.  I like it because it is idiot proof.  Push the boom switch and it goes “boom.”  But the 5 shot capability kind of bothers me (at least this is the excuse I gave my wife).  The gun has never given me any problems and it has dutifully served me for the last 12 years.  Simply put, it is a very nice reliable little gun.

But, the siren song of getting a new BUG (back-up gun) started singing to me, so I started looking. 

The indoor range that I am a member of has several guns you can “rent,” with the caveat that you purchase their ammunition.  Fair enough.  I was set up with a box of ammo and three small 9mm’s: a Glock, Ruger, and a Kahr.  I was shocked at the difference.  While the Glock was brain dead simple I’m just not crazy about Glock’s, and the Ruger was kind of funky.  Can’t really explain it other that it simply wasn’t for me.  The Kahr on the other hand had a fantastic double action only trigger pull,  fit my hand, was accurate, and came with a good reputation.  So the Kahr CW9 it was.

Since I have an inherent distrust of pistols (as opposed to revolvers), I decided I would run about 500 rounds through it before it replaced my little Smith.  I qualified with it, shot it on Saturday’s at the range, and shot it some more, except for today.

Today was quarterly qualifications, and when you are done with your duty weapons you shoot a qual with your backup. 

I started with the little smith and smoked the qual.  No surprise as it has been a fantastic little gun.  Up next the Kahr, which at some point the 500th round would go through it today.  Boom, boom, boom, click.

Tap, rack, ready.  Click.  Hmmmm.  Upon closer examination a small pin had broken, causing the extractor a and small spring to fall out.  Not good.  It’s bad enough when your gun fails at the range, but even worse is the ribbing you get from everyone else watching you.

But more important than this is the sinking feeling that this is the gun I  was about to use as my backup / off duty gun, the very gun that I might have to stake my life on (yes, I take this very seriously).

I am glad that I followed my practice and ran 500 rounds through it before I ever considered carrying it.  When it comes back from Kahr, it will most likely go up for sale and I’ll continue my quest for a reliable BUG, or maybe not.  That little Smith is more attractive to me than ever.

Wolves

I mentioned in passing of reading of a California legislator who was attempting to ban all air soft guns in the state.  The person I was speaking to, an otherwise reasonable person, exclaimed, “my acre is an air soft free zone.” 

He went on to say that he didn’t want his sons growing up thinking it was o.k. to run around and shoot people.

I asked him what the traditional role of boys and men were.  He could not answer me so I answered for him; hunters and gatherers, breadwinners, protectors….warriors.  I’m one of those Neanderthals that believe this still to be the case.

Boys grow up playing roles and violence plays a part.  When I was small it was Cowboy’s and Indian’s and the weapon of choice was any stick that was shaped like a gun.

Today my son plays army with the neighborhood kids, and the weapon of choice is an air soft gun.  I’m pretty sure my son can distinguish play (make believe) from reality – I know he can because we’ve had this conversation.  This type of play helps boys establish a pecking order, teaches them leadership, and is a great way for them to burn off all that energy instead of being told they are ADD and doping them up on Ritalin.  If you don’t understand this you’ve never been around a young boy.

Is this type of play violent?  You bet it is.  This doesn’t automatically make it a bad thing.  Defending your country with arms is by its very nature violent.  I’ve heard it called “controlled violence.” 

As a boy grows up, the “violent” play becomes football, wrestling, judo, karate, or just about any sport for that matter.  The lessons of pecking order and leadership continue with the added importance of teamwork.

This violent play (with the guidance of a good father, grandfather, etc to enforce the concept of good v evil) helps young men grow up to become men who aren’t afraid to assume difficult or dangerous roles.  I think the problem with crime and violence in our society today is not so much violent television or video games, but that these mediums provide no real context and therefore reinforces violence for violence sake.

It has been said that you go to sleep at night in safety because good men are outside, willing to do violence on your behalf.

These are the kind of people I want around when the stuff hits the fan for real.  Besides, when things go bad, I would rather be in a pack of wolves than a pack of sheep.  If this bothers you, I’m figuring that you’re probably counted among the sheep, and if you haven’t already guessed my “acre” is NOT an air soft free zone.

Reserves

When I was much younger, I remember attending a Church camp in the mountains of central Idaho.  One night around the bonfire, all of us there were told we had the “seeds of greatness” within us.

At the end of the week, we all returned home with an inflated sense of self, knowing that when we grew up we would truly change the world.  All we had to do was nurture those seeds of greatness.

As I grew older, I realized that what I wanted to do conflicted with what I was capable or able to do.  Reality impinged on my nicely crafted fantasy of what I was going to remake the world into.  Those seeds of greatness started to shrivel.

Now that I am way past middle age (meaning I have a receding hairline, trifocals, and I constantly fight the battle with girth), I have looked back on my life and wondered if I didn’t kill those seeds.  After all, I’m pretty sure I never lived up to the expectation that they had of me.

It was last week on a very long drive on a very straight, level, and boring highway, that I gave up on the satellite radio and decided to mull over this topic again.  Have I simply wasted the talents and abilities that I know I have.  Sure I learn a lot of knew and neat things and have developed all kinds of skills.  I just never seem to use any of them for anything “great.”  Have I simply relegated myself to a life of mediocrity?

Maybe I have been selling myself short.  Maybe a lot of people have.  I can’t be the only one who has looked back and thought that during the very short time I’ve been on this Earth I did not reach my full potential; somehow I let slip by what could have been.  Or have I?  Have you?

It occurs to me that all of us have interests and talents that we develop, practice and nurture, but never use for anything “great.”  That doesn’t make them any less valuable, if nothing else than it makes us a little more interesting, or depending on the skill and the person, “quirky.”

I also find it interesting that throughout history, whenever times have been harsh and humanity has slithered into the darkness, someone always steps forward, as if by divine providence, and with their skills and abilities helped plot a course through mire.  Think of Abraham Lincoln; an unlikely President with a high pitch voice and Kentucky drawl – who piloted our country through the darkest time in our history.

Where would we be as a people without the likes of George Washington, Patrick Henry, Thomas Jefferson, Samuel Adams or Martin Luther King?  All ordinary people who stepped forward when needed, and without using words stated in their actions “here I am, use me.”

Perhaps our underutilized abilities and talents simply are maintained in reserve.  Maybe never to be used for anything “great” our entire life, or maybe, just maybe one day to be used when we must stand up and say, “here I am, use me.”

So I think those seeds of greatness have actually taken root, and grown, and we use them every single day.  Our talents and abilities do not gain us fame or fortune, but we use them for the benefit of our neighbors, friends, and family.  Those seeds have grown into mighty trees.  Not visible to most, but there none the less, waiting in reserve.  

Early Morning Rain

This blog began as a challenge from my friends at the North Idaho IDPA, just to see how easy/difficult it would be to set one up.  Turns out it is not so hard; besides, its something I have wanted to do for a while now.

Yesterday was one of those once or twice a year days where the little engine just seemed to fire on all cylinders.  Morning started out with indoor range time with my oldest daughter, who I've been teaching how to shoot.  Turns out she is actually a very good shot, even shooting the little Beretta Tomcat .32 ACP that I gave her.

At 7 yards she was shooting a group of about 10", which is great for a gun with such a short barrell.  I had stepped back to watch her and make sure all of the basics were good (stance, grip, sight alignment, and trigger press), when I noticed that the three bays next to us were filled with great big macho guys, two of which were shooting the little Ruger .380.   I noticed right off that each of these guys were shooting targets that were only 7 feet away from them with a grouping of about 21" (which is a very Generous estimate, without the need to say they sucked).  I also noticed them watching the shooting prowess of my daughter.

After she picked up my Khar CW9 and started shooting it, now at about 30 feet and still producing 10" groups,  I noticed these three macho men slowly slink out of the range, throwing their targets into the garbage can as they sulked.  Sucks to be shown up by a very petite girly girl, especially when she announced that she didn't think she was shooting all that well.

We then decided to head to Cabela's Sporting Goods for something of a weekly pilgrimage.  Once there I ogled firearms, drooled over the used rifles for sale, and reconnoitered the bargain cave.  I even picked up a  new knife, allowing me to give an old one to my daughter.   Sweet huh?  Maybe since I gave that little Tomcat to her I can get a new gun?  Gotta find a way to sneak this past the wife.

After that it was home to the shop, where I hand rolled some target loads for my .308.  Something about crafting loads for my guns that I find very satisfying.

It was then off to my good friend Phil's house for our annual Man Day.  Which consists of the guys and I sitting around a fire, telling stories, and eating tasty animals.  Even my good friend Chris drove all the way from Boise just for this event!

To assist in this ritual, my son in law provided us with his first attempt at home brewing which turned out FANTASTIC.  I think he missed his calling, and all present agreed that he is a keeper.

So you can see why this was such a great day.  Shooting with my daughter, a trip to Cabela's, reloading, and home brew with the guys around a fire.  It doesn't get much better than that.

Oh yes, one other thing:  I woke up this morning with the crisp cool air carrying the scent of wet pine and the sound of light morning rain.  I think that just topped off the last 24 hours.