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The Brass Dance

If you’ve shot anything more than a revolver or a single-shot firearm, you are probably aware of the safety problems inherent in ejected brass.

It’s dirty.  It’s fast.  It’s HOT!

Most folks learn rather quickly why experienced shooters wear safety gear.  Not only hearing and eye protection, but proper clothing.

Burned fingers, hands, arms.  I’ve known two guys who had ejected brass wedge between their shooting glasses and faces!  Not pretty.  And most of us have been beaned in the head a few times.

A brimmed hat or cap, and an ‘appropriate’ shirt.  Female shooters especially can be in danger from hot brass, if they wear a low neckline.  I used to know a woman who was president of a group of female shooters called The Annie Oakleys.  She would often joke their unofficial salute was to bend forward at the waist and shake rapidly! :-)   (to divest themselves of ejected, hot brass)

But this is not just about minor discomfort or humor.

(from The Firearm Blog, in part)

Just this past weekend, a father took his 14 year old son out to an indoor range in Sarasota Florida to celebrate Independence Day early.  You can read about it here. They were using the far right hand lane. The father was shooting a handgun when the brass ejected and hit the wall. It bounced off and went inside his shirt. Nothing out of the ordinary there. What happens next is the problem. The father reaches back with his right hand to pull his shirt so he can get the hot brass out. The handgun was still in his right hand. He had a negligent discharge and his son was shot. I am sad to say that son died due to his injuries.

We can bleat about The Four Rules all we want, but unless we take them to heart and use them religiously, even during a perceived emergency, there isn’t much point.

My heart goes out to the father and family in this story.

Father’s Day 2016

Well, here we are.

Another @&%$)_+%$^ holiday anniversary date!

My roommate wanted to ‘celebrate’, as she believes I was a good, loving father, and my daughter is unfortunately not capable of celebrating me.

My roommate is a good person.

Molly would have been 33 this Father’s Day.  My imagination leads to thoughts of an alternative future, wherein she married, had children, and a career.  And I had grandchildren.

It was not to be.

She loved animals (during her time here we had two dogs, three cats, a hamster and two goldfish).  She wanted to become a veterinarian.

I also imagine a house filled with numerous animals and kids, running willy-nilly, screaming and playing.

Sometimes, a good imagination is not a good thing.

To all the good Dads out there, Happy Father’s Day.

Remember to hug them and kiss them and tell them you love them.  Daily.

Because, you never know.

Molly 1986 2

_______________________________________________________

(And, now for something completely different – as promised)
I would ask all of you bloggers out there to at least make the effort to post a link to www.projectwelcomehometroops.org/#22kill

22 VETERANS COMMIT SUICIDE DAILY

Even ONE of these heroes making this choice is unacceptable! (Day #17 of 22)

Life

It’s a cereal; it’s a board game.  A defunct television series.

It also is what it is.

My favorite line from the James Bond books, is ‘M’ (the head of MI-6, Admiral Sir Miles Meservy) telling Bond when he complains about receiving an assignment change, “Things change, 007.”

M

‘M’

And that might be one definition of Life.  Things changing.

Of course, the best part are the good changes – grand nieces ascending from 6th Grade, and another graduating High School.  Others having birthdays.  A dear friend’s birthdays and their elder daughter getting her doctorate!

The bad?

That dear friend (Bob Hall) being unable to be present for his daughter’s doctoral degree.

Daily dealing with issues regarding aging, illness and finances – both my roommate and I.

Friends, relatives and acquaintances becoming severely ill.  Some almost certainly in their way out, others hanging-in-there, but…?

And some already gone.  More than I ever expected.

Even some leaving voluntarily, but still present.  Apparently, friends no longer.  :-(

“Things change, Guffaw.”

I haven’t needed a fictional intelligence department head to tell me.

I already know.

Things are as they are.

This just in. Ray Carter passed this morning.
Puts my whining in perspective.

Restroom Wars, Part Number Two

bathroom-sign-jpgWhen I ran across this article on Facebook, I truly thought it must be either dizinformazia, or an article culled from The Onion.

After a little side research, I determined this to be the genuine article.  By a genuine LGBT activist.  Who is quite obviously NOT a libertarian!

Famous LGBT Activist Reveals The Scary, Real Goal Of The Bathroom Battle (And It’s Not Bathrooms…It’s Way Worse)

What you may have been suspecting has been confirmed. LGBT activists’ end goal is not ruling over the bathroom. It’s obliterating the family. Riki Wilchins, a famous transsexual who recently wrote a piece in the gay publication The Advocate, revealed that many conservatives and even LGBT activists are missing the forest for the trees.

Titled,“We’ll Win the Bathroom Battle When the Binary Burns,” Wilchins says the real goal is to kill the notion of male and female altogether. The “binary” refers to gender distinction, and getting rid of the “heterobinary structure” is the goal. Wilchins writes that the fact that we are arguing over male and female facilities is proof that we still have far to go–that there should be no gender distinctions in general.

In fact, Wilchins points to an emerging group of people who don’t want to affiliate as any gender. Life Site News explains, “’Non-binary’ people don’t identify as male or female and they often want to be referred to as ‘they’ or ‘hir’ or ‘zer.’  So the fact that there are even intimate facilities that reflect the “binary” truth about gender should change, Wilchins wrote.”

If you are confused, you are not alone. But beneath all of the titles and non-titles, the insidious plan is the destruction of the family, reveals Stella Morabito, senior contributor to The Federalist.

“What we are really talking about is the abolition of sex. And it is sex that the trans project is serving to abolish legally, under the guise of something called ‘the gender binary.’  Its endgame is a society in which everyone is legally de-sexed.  No longer legally male or female.  And once you basically redefine humanity as sexless you end up with a de-humanized society in which there can be no legal ‘mother’ or ‘father’ or ‘son’ or ‘daughter’ or ‘husband’ or ‘wife’ without permission from the State.  Government documents are already erasing the terms.  In such a society, the most intimate human relationships take a hit. The family ends up abolished.”

Morabito hits home the point: “Sex distinctions are the germ of all human relationships. Abolishing them legally basically abolishes family autonomy.  And this is an act of violence against children because it would serve at some point to separate them from their origins. Every child’s first transcendental question is ‘Where did I come from?’  If the law will not allow the child to see his own origins and wholeness in the faces of a mother and a father, it destabilizes the child’s sense of self.  It creates personal dysfunction in children and basically ends up spreading more dysfunction and even dystopia in society.”

This is scary. If Morabito and other cultural watch-dogs are right, the bathroom battle is far more serious than many think. We need to really pray and ask God for help–before it’s too late and our future generations end up really damaged. Do you agree? (Faith Family America)

SO.  Either Ms. Wilchins is a dystopian uber-Statist of the first order, or is a deepest cover agent promoting such nonsense reductio ad absurdum*!

I truly hope it is the second choice offered.

If this is indeed the true ultimate agenda, it goes way beyond men ‘self-identifying’ as female to visit women’s rooms and/or taking surreptitious photos of women and girls, or worse!

But, as The President is taking a hard line on this issue, ‘blackmailing’ the States to conform to this agenda in their schools, or lose federal funding(!), and many believe him to be a variety of Marxist…

Q.E.D.

*Reductio ad absurdum
Reductio ad absurdum, also known as argumentum ad absurdum, is a common form of argument which seeks to demonstrate that a statement is true by showing that a false, untenable, or absurd result follows from its denial, or in turn to demonstrate that a statement is false by showing that a false, untenable, or absurd result follows from its acceptance.  (Wikipedia)

Having ‘The Talk’

No, not the birds and bees with your children, or the inane TV show.

(from the USCCA and Kevin Michalowski)

Kevin_ITF_Email_VideoPlayer_3-14-16

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…

Read More

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.

It’s That Day, Again

SIGH.

Today is the 21st anniversary of the passing of our daughter Molly.

We had been in an automobile accident the previous day, and I spent weeks in intensive care, the hospital and rehabilitation.

Molly spent one day.  She was twelve.

I’m doing pretty well, considering.  On disability – due to lymphoma.  I’ve a roof over my head and a beater car and a supportive family and friends, some of whom I’ve met through these pages in the last five years.

Which brings me to the point I often make.

GO AND HUG THOSE YOU LOVE AND TELL THEM SO!  Because you may not get another chance!

She was a terrific kid, and was going to be a terrific adult.  But never got the chance.

She was becoming a shooter (who knew? :-)) and was definitely a Daddy’s girl.

She will always be Daddy’s Girl.

I Love You and Miss You!

 

 

Knives Of My Youth

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.

And me.

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 (!)

CamcoWaterfallCelluloidJack

not mine

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 headred 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.

not mine

not mine

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!

not his

not his

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!

 

 

Well, Here We Are. FIVE YEARS LATER!

Yep.

(Well, Here We Are, March 5, 2011)

5th1

I’ve been posting something (sometimes copied stolen from others, sometimes amended, sometimes original) EVERY DAY since March 5, 2011.  Sometimes multiple somethings…

Along with a quote, funny, beauty and a You Tube clip.

EVERY DAY

What a long, strange, but mostly good trip it’s been…

I began blogging, as I’d been reading other’s blogs for about eighteen months (being on disability, and wasting time on the computer).  It occurred to me “Hey, maybe I can find a woman who likes guns” this way?

I did.  Unfortunately, the female gun bloggers I first found were in Idaho, Ohio and Indiana.  If you didn’t guess, I’m in Arizona.  So much for THAT idea! 😦

They became my Blogmothers™

Two remain today – Brigid and Tamara.  The others stopped blogging. (I don’t think I had anything to do with it.)

This blog has seen me through good times and bad times.  Loss and regain of benefits.  Skin cancer (post recovery from lymphoma) and minor injuries.  Loss of good friends like Mark Bell and Bob Hall.

But the BEST, and most surprising part, are the friendships I’ve developed through this medium.  Who knew?

A huge thank you goes out to the generosity of people I only know through the Internet, who have offered me support, both moral and financial.  And given me gifts!  You know who you are…

I miss those who are no longer blogging, by choice or life circumstance – North, Matt, Maura, CoolChange, William the Coroner and many others.  (If I’ve left you off the list and you are still around, please forgive me).

I am SO GRATEFUL for (in no particular order) Bobbi, Doc in Yuma, Ron, Proud Hillbilly, Paul, Kevin Baker and the other Kevin, Southern Belle and KX59, Tom, Biff, Keads, Bluesun, Wirecutter, Jim, Greg, Kenny, Quizikle, Sean, Irish, Jeffery and Wilson.

And especially Murphy, Brigid, ASM826 and Borepatch!  And Judy, my roomie!

And my dear friend Dave the genius (who prefers to be called Dave the mechanic) who sends me multiple funnies daily to possibly include in the blog!  And who – when he is in town – takes me out for Red Devil pizza!  And who has been a loyal friend since 1973.

And to all you loyal folks who don’t blog or even leave comments but bother to stop by – THANK YOU!

I don’t know what the future holds, but I do plan to continue posting some useless nonsense daily for a while longer.

It gives me something on which to focus – a routine and discipline.

338,283 Visitors

394 Followers

56 Countries

2,365 Posts

11,754 Comments

FIVE YEARS!  Here’s to five more!

toast

(Now, if I could just find that WOMAN!)

FTC – Red Devil gives me nothing!

Mixed Emotions

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.

Four Years Ago, Today

markabell2We lost MARK BELL.

My co-worker, shooting student, sounding board, reminder of things good, bon vivant, and loyal friend.

We had just attended Kevin Baker’s blogshoot the previous Sunday, and had spoken on the telephone, yesterday (four years ago – I cannot believe it’s been four years!).

Then his beloved wife Cathy called me tomorrow (four years ago) to tell me he had dropped dead from a heart attack suddenly yesterday.

Having almost lost Walter recently, this may be a little maudlin.

I don’t care.

PLEASE, tell the ones you love that you love them, and hug them, if at all possible.

Because you never know.

"Round up the usual suspects."

In Loving Memory…

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