I recently ‘joined’ Pinterest, another (self-serving) social media website wherein one chooses topics in which one has an interest (guns, humor, history, watches, pets for example), and pictures, articles, recipes, essays, things-for-sale appear in a hodge-podge of stuff from other members (aka PINS). One may simply view them, expand them for more in-depth reading and/or comment on them. PIN them to review later (as more are always being added.) And, of course, add their own PINS to the group conversation!
The ultimate time waster!
Funny Pictures Of The Day – 42 Pics
Saved from guns.com (Gilboa 9mm AR-type submachine gun)
I’m new at this, but this PIN caught my eye:
A useful tool for covert and undercover operators, those that travel abroad in unstable countries, or anyone at risk of being held unlawfully.
A leading federal law enforcement agency asked for a special emergency handcuff key for their undercover operatives.
The Undercover Bracelet is the result.
This unique handcuff key is designed to always be situated at the optimum location for access and deployment – right next to the wrist.
Disguised as a common “gummy bracelet”, this rubbery flexible bracelet won’t draw even a second glance when worn in most environments.
This device is completely non-metallic, even the key portion.
The key, which is permanently affixed to one end of the bracelet, serves as the connector joining the two ends.
The key is not visible when the bracelet is worn.
It is quickly accessed by just yanking on the bracelet, exposing the key.
The bracelet accommodates wrists up to 10″, and can be cut down to fit.
Weight: 0.2 oz.
Made in USA.
On Amazon – $18.47
On Pinterest – $9.99 !
And joining Pinterest is FREE!
(FTC – neither Pinterest or Amazon gave me anything. Get you own key!)
No, not the birds and bees with your children, or the inane TV show.
(from the USCCA and Kevin Michalowski)
Sooner or later you will have to talk to your non-gun-owning friends about why you carry. You might be asked not to carry at someone’s house. Or you might be grilled on gun safety at your house when people come to visit. I can’t give you the exact words; they are your friends, not mine. But understand that…
SO…it’s NOT just about Safety.
It’s about rights, and protection, and so much more.
There have been a few places I’ve chosen to not carry, and not by government edict, either. It’s been about respect, perceived security, and sometimes plain ol’ convenience.
But sometimes having a civil Talk is just what seems appropriate.
There were a couple, or three.
The first I owned because of my Father’s disconnect.
He was raised on the East Coast, in a more poor part of town, by a railroad policeman/former Marine. An Irish neighborhood.
In my mind, his youth resembled a Dead-End Kids movie, except not in NYC.
And, laws aside, there were knives and guns around. And his Dad’s rules about them – were something akin to ‘touch anything without permission and you get a beating’!
Fast-forward to 1960s Arizona. A desert, agricultural college town. Lots of farm and ranch kids. About 3/4 or whom carried some kind of folder with them. Girls included.
We had a couple guns at home, which I was not allowed to touch (see above).
One day, while I was in grade school, my Dad came into the back yard where I was playing. And he handed me a folding knife. I was going to be leaving for camp in the Summer, and he thought I should have one of his (!)
AND, not unlike The Dead End Kids, he gave me a quick lesson in Mumbley-Peg with it! Not understanding knives didn’t stick well in the dry, desert dirt. See, disconnect.
None of my friends had ever seen such a game. And, anyway, they didn’t bring their knives out at school.
And, I took the knife to camp, a fellow camper borrowed it, cut himself, got taken to the ER(!), and I never saw it again! He was okay, though.
Fast forward to a year or so later. I’d made friends with a couple of kids a block over, including a little red headed girl (!) (Puberty had yet to hit, and, anyway, she was younger than me and a friend’s sister…I wonder where she is now? STOP THAT!)
My birthday came around, and surprise-surprise, the little red haired girl stopped by with a present! (Hell, most of my friends hadn’t given me anything!)
And what do you think it was…?
NO, not a folding knife.
A sheathed belt knife! How cool was THAT? Of course, my Dad immediately glommed onto it for his camping and fishing trips.
And it resided in the truck’s over-the-cab camper for years. Until my Dad passed and everything was given away or sold. 😦
Now, my maternal grandfather (aka ‘Gramp’) always carried a knife! When I was a kid, I thought this was a disconnect, as he was an East Coast banker-type. The only time we ever say it was when there were presents.
Used to open the boxes! A Christy gentleman’s knife!
And it, too, is lost to history. 😦
Although, if I really wanted one, Christy still makes them!
FTC – no companies gave me any of these knives for commercial endorsement – now go away!
(via my dear friend Rev. Paul)
With all the bad press aimed at police departments around the country – and sometimes bad things do happen – we don’t hear enough about the good things they do.
The Officer and Harley: A Lesson in Kindness
It’s a parent’s worst nightmare. Your child is off somewhere in the world without you and something goes wrong. With children who have developmental disabilities or mental illness, something is bound to go wrong at some point. So you craft action plans. You practice what to do. You get their care providers on the same page. You hope your action plan will work if and when needed. Many times it will. But there’s always the possibility that one time, in some ordinary place doing some ordinary thing, something will go awry. Then what?
The Anchorage Police Department has a volunteer training program to help its officers make the best possible decisions when encountering people with autism, fetal alcohol spectrum disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, brain injuries, depression or any other condition that can affect a person’s behavior and how well he or she might respond to police.
For parents, the worst nightmare isn’t the meltdown. It’s how other people will react, and then how your child will react to them. Will the others — store clerks, passersby, waiters, managers — be well-meaning helpers who unknowingly muck things up even more? Or maybe they will be disrupters and increase stress and tension as they try to firmly get matters under control. What then? What if the police show up and rattle off a bunch of questions or issue orders at your child, who can’t handle being addressed in that way? Will your child run off? Lash out? What if an officer tries to put their hands on your child, who cannot tolerate touch?
The worst nightmare is that someone will get hurt.
Harley Hamilton, a senior at West High living with downs syndrome and autism, gives Anchorage police officer Matt Fraize a side hug at Sagaya City Market on Wednesday, Feb. 24, 2016. Watching at left is DeVon Brentlinger, one of Harley’s caregivers.
Hamilton asked a friend, Angie Fraize, an Anchorage police officer who serves with her on the Governor’s Council for Disabilities and Special Education, what to do. Fraize helped coordinate a coffee date for Harley with her husband, Matt, who is also an Anchorage police officer. The goal? Get Harley to understand police as helpers, as safe people she can trust.
“The face of law enforcement is changing with the times. But we have to. We have to show people that we are human. That we are dads and moms,” Angie Fraize said over coffee last week. She grew up with an uncle who had Down syndrome, and one of her two daughters has the condition.
Matt Fraize, a large man who once played football for the University of Washington, showed up in uniform to the coffee date with Harley. He asked if he could sit with Harley and her mother, who suggested, “Harley would love for a handsome man in uniform to sit across from her.”
Harley hugged officer Fraize, beaming during the half-hour visit that ended with a ride home, without Mom, in the police car. During a second meeting, Harley tried to tickle officer Fraize, nuzzled his side, gave a friendly head-butt and a quick kiss to his right shoulder before they walked over to his patrol car, holding hands.
“A lot of us are parents of kids with special needs. And so we get it. We have the same fears for our children,” Matt Fraize said.
Heroes like Officer Fraize need all the good publicity they can get. This is a wonderful program.
I commented on Rev. Paul’s posting of the above story that news of a positive nature is not considered news. The dictum ‘if it bleeds, it leads’ came to mind.
I hope that most of the men and women in blue are of Officer Fraize’s mindset, rather than the stormtrooper/Gestapo/’us against them’ mindset. Too often, it’s only police misconduct that makes the news.
As the good Reverend said, this story needs to go viral! So I’m doing my .02 worth.
Back-in-the-day (the 60’s), if news happened during the day, we had to wait until the 5:30 Huntley/Brinkley Report to hear about it.
Unless it was of a catastrophic nature, like the JFK assassination. Then, someone who had been listening to a transistor radio passed the news along word-of mouth. (The school janitor?) And people with TVs ran to them for the latest reports. Because, not everyone had a TV!
Otherwise, if the evening news had been missed, it was the next morning’s Arizona Republic that brought the news. Usually bad – because news of a good nature is rarely news.
Fast-forward (another antiquated term from VHS tape days) to this post-Internet era. I’ve a smartphone which I am rarely without. She lives in my right, front pocket (having a fused hip means my back pocket isn’t a good idea for access) with my keys, .38 speed strip and my Blur lockblade knife. (The .38 S&W snub is in my LEFT front pocket, in a pocket holster, me being sinestral, and all!)
I keep my smartphone on, because, why not? She bleeps and chirps with receipt of texts, emails and the latest headlines. (I do put her on vibrate or mute as appropriate!) And sometimes she even rings announcing a telephone call! :-) Or a specific ringtone advising me of particular callers, like my roomie or close friends. Roomie’s ringtone is Moonlight Sonata, and Biff’s is the Peanuts theme!
Which brings me to my point (finally!)
Biff has a smartphone, but he doesn’t keep it on. Doesn’t use it for spur-of-the-moment research, or shopping or to-do lists. He doesn’t use it for email or texts, either. Or receipt of the latest news!
He uses it as a telephone, when he chooses to have it turned-on.
And, I razz him mercilessly about this. The term Luddite has been bandied about.
Why have a smartphone, if one isn’t going to use it as such?
He says he doesn’t want to be that connected. And usually leaves it in his car, anyway!
We met for coffee the Saturday evening last, and were having our usual conversations, and I brought up the death earlier in the day of Justice Scalia.
And, he didn’t know about it – he hadn’t heard! And he’s a radio news guy!
(I’d received a notification minutes after it had been reported, from three news sources!)
To be fair, he hadn’t worked that day.
So, which is better? – to be voluntarily ignorant of the day’s events, to choose to call only when one makes that choice, or to be tethered to the electronic instantaneous (or nearly so) news cycle? And at the mercy of people who choose to call, whenever?
Being already a volunteer for the tethering, my opinion in the matter is skewed one direction. Much like having a P.C. at home with a router, I don’t think I could revert to dial-up.
Or no Internet access at all…
So, which is better?
(Not mentioning potential for brain cancer and/or government surveillance/tracking, because so doing would further muddy the issue!)
Lawdog offers THIS!
One of the latest trends in socio-political engineering that I am noticing is the “Returning American Ex-pat” article.
I have noticed several of these little jewels pop-up in various social media, to the point where I could probably put together a bingo card of their high-points.
These articles usually — allegedly — written by Young Americans, who have just returned from living in Europe. Northern Europe, to be precise.
The last one I skimmed, the writer had come back to the United States from Norway, before that was Denmark, and Sweden. I think the most southerly European nation these sub-set of articles referenced was Switzerland.
Anyhoo, these articles usually start off with the writer describing moving to whichever Nordic country they chose and the culture shock they experienced when they arrived.
This culture shock, they will explain, is from the shorter work-week of this country, followed by mention of the mandatory vacation days. Soon thereafter comes the extolling of the country’s universal health care, free education, and various and sundry “social safety nets”.
They then mention their looking into this miracle, gloss quickly over the “government runs EVERYTHING” point, and describe how the richest entities happily pay “their fair share”.
The latest articles wax eloquent about how the heroic government keeps the banks and corporations from profiting off of anyone, and how there are no poor people there.
Matter-of-fact, the last one I read — she had just come back from Norway — hit heavily on the “responsible capitalism”. That being “capitalism” under the complete and total control of the government and the national unions.
The articles then end up with the author describing their return to the United States of America, and how — compared to the Nordic Model paradise they had just left — the United States is a third world nation.
Two points immediately come to mind when I see one of these thinly-veiled propaganda pieces.
Point One: Why is the author still State-side? If Norway, or Sweden, or Denmark, or Iceland, or wherethehellever is so much better than here — emigrate. Pull up stakes and get gone permanently. Vamoose. Shoo. Scram. “Delta is ready when you are.”
Why. Did. You. Come. Back? Seriously?
If the U.S. is so bad that you have to drip existential angst all over the Internet at the thought of the place you just left, you owe it to your mental health, your karma (and probably your credit score) to surrender your US citizenship and go back.
Second:I was raised in third world countries. I grew up in Africa; hit puberty in the Middle East. I have scars, nightmares, and a medical file more than a metre thick (No, I’m not exaggerating. Hell, the “parasite infestation” part of my medical file is four fingers deep) that attests to the fact that I have a thorough, intimate knowledge of the third world.
And, pookie, if you think that the United States of America is “like a third world nation” then you either need to actually — you know — go to a genuine third world country; or you need your headspace and timing re-adjusted.
I’m not sure what irritates me the most about these articles: That they’re such an obvious and clumsy bit of socio-political engineering propaganda; or that no matter how clumsy they are, people or going to take them at face value — right down to the “America is a third world nation” part.
Today would have been our daughter Molly’s 33rd birthday.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOLLY!
Of course, I love her and miss her. Daily.
I heard via the almighty Internet (on FB) that her best childhood friend is pregnant!
With a boy.
While I wish she and her husband well, part of me always wanted to be a grandfather. And, of course, that never happened.
And I’m a little jealous.
I’m certain Molly is happy for them.
I remember a time, when, rightly or wrongly, the good guys carried revolvers, and the bad guys carried semiautomatics.
The meme was semis were finicky, and revolvers worked every time. Reloading speed was not a big consideration.
And the .357 was KING!
Time marched on, as it is want to do, and semis became more reliable, and the Miami FBI shootout occurred, and the good guys began looking into semis an an option.
And there was the development of 10mm, and .40 S&W, and the invention of Glock and her offspring.
And the meme changed.
Now, today, as shown at this years S.H.O.T. Show, a bit of a reversal.
The Kimber K6
A stainless steel six-shot snubbie, in .357 Magnum(!) with no MIM parts! Made in the U.S.A. And weighing the same as the venerable S&W 640.
It appears the meme has been tweaked by the increase in civilian CCW folks!
Who could have guessed?
FTC – I’ve not owned or shot this revolver, nor has Kimber given me anything.
h/t Mad Ogre
Bayou Renaissance Man recently regaled us with a story, and a photo:
Now and again commercialism gets so weird that it jumps the shark. I think that’s just happened (or is that ‘happened again’?) in the shooting sports. 5.11 Tactical, an otherwise respected producer of so-called ‘tactical’ clothing and related products, has announced at the 2016 SHOT Show that it’s developed – wait for it – ‘Raven Range Capri‘ trousers for women, which have instantly (and inevitably) become known as ‘Tactical Yoga Pants’.
The funniest thing about them, to my mind, are the comments left by readers at The Firearm Blog. Here’s one exchange.
- I weigh about 280 lbs. I think these might have a slimming effect on me and be quite stylish at the range.
- HAHAHAHA… does the term TMI mean anything to you??? just kidding dude…
- TMI or BMI??
- You go, um, guy. You go.
- Not to be critical but I think you would exceed the maximum tonnage limit.
There are many more at the link. Click over there for a good laugh.
Of course, this isn’t the only time 5.11 Tactical have produced something, shall we say, ‘tongue in cheek’. A couple of years ago they came out with the ‘Tactical Duty Kilt‘. I particularly enjoyed the fact that it was available in ‘tactical’ sizes up to the mid-50’s . . . which would indicate (a lack of) fitness and physical dexterity that’s anything but tactical!
(Yes, I do own a ‘Tactical Duty Kilt’. My wife insisted I had to buy one for the sheer hilarity of it. No, I won’t post a picture!)
While I can appreciate both the sentiment and the photograph, I do fear many of the potential customers will not come close to resembling the model above.
I own a 5.11 shirt (long-sleeve, O.D. green in color) which is of fine construction and quality. It was a Christmas gift. (5.11 gave me nothing, FTC!)
Thank you, Peter, for the Rule 5 moment. Or perhaps multiple moments…
When I was visiting my Sister on Christmas Eve (accompanying my ex-wife, who is close with my niece and grand-nieces. Yeah, it’s weird, sometimes!) my ex told me she had been visiting earlier that day with her (deceased) youngest brother’s children. One of whom had a child, who married someone already with a child.
So, they are a step-parent, and by extension, I found out I am a great, great uncle!
Now I’m not particularly close to these folks, and don’t know over half of them, so my social obligation is limited.
But the label! And the fact it’s 2016! That makes me….(carry the one)….(removes sock to count toes)….going to be sixty-four this November!
And my ex already took note that I am graying (Thanks, M!)…
But, I am grateful for all I do have, and the fact I am on this side of the dirt nap.
So there’s that.
Tempus Fugit, my friends.