Free In Idaho!

I stopped off at the range today to try my hand shooting the May ePostal.  The range and the shop were both empty when I went in.  The young man behind the counter told me it’s their “slow season”.  Hmmm.  You’d think with the wind blowing 20 mph, and gas over $3.50, folks would still be coming into the range rather than going out to the desert (actually, the wind kept me in town today… I’ve got a box of handloads ready for the rifle, but decided today wasn’t the day).  But you have to keep practicing, so it was hand gun day for me.

When I came out of the range, I poked around looking at the wares.  I noticed a couple of 20-somethings gazing into the last case, so I wandered over to see what the attraction was.  Oh, that.  The shop has an HK G3 for sale, for the princely sum of $14 thousand smackers.  Kid asked me if I liked it.  I told him no, for $14 really big ones I’d rather have a really good new 1911, a new Wingmaster shotgun, a new M1A1, lots of ammo for all of them, some training, three months of food in the pantry, and gas for the rest of the year.  Oh, yeah, and some CHANGE!

He looked at me like I was nuts. 

“”But THAT is too COOL!  And besides, you wouldn’t have enough left to get that much gas.”

I looked at him like he was nuts, but he was back to lusting after the G-thing and he didn’t notice.  $14 grand is about what guys his age make in Boise in a whole year right now.  So was he in the lane next to me, shooting an old Ruger 10/22 into a little bitty circle at the 25 yard line, saving his money and practicing?  Nope.  He’s out front getting nose prints on the display case, because 10/22s aren’t cool.  Makes a guy want to do a little re-write of an old piece,  just for HK fanboys.

This is my rifle.  There aren’t any like it, and this one is mine.

My rifle is my best friend. It is my life.

I don’t need to master it, because it’s mine.

My rifle without me is so cool. Without my rifle, I am useless.

I must fire my rifle true.  But at $1.50 a round, I can’t afford it.

I must shoot straighter than my enemy who is trying to kill me.  But I can’t afford training either, so I’ll just spray and pray.

I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will…I hope.  This rifle does it for you.

My rifle and myself know that what counts in war is not the rounds we fire,

the noise of our bursts, nor the smoke we make.

We know it is the coolness that counts. We will be very cool…

This entry was posted on Wednesday, May 7th, 2008 at 5:46 pm and is filed under Culture, Guns. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.