Life Lessons

I got skimpy with my lube one time and chain-fired five cylinders at once. That taught me to invest whatever it took to do it right when it was really important. As a result, out of a sea of guns in the personal collection today, what I carry to defend my family is expensive and loaded with the best ammunition money can buy.

I shot quite a lot of stuff out of that pistol that Samuel Colt never envisioned. Lead balls were spendy; so, improvised cardboard shot cups charged with BBs kept me company in swampy places. I killed a poisonous snake or three, and came to appreciate the utility of a good handgun. Without a gun I would have to run when I tripped over a water moccasin in the woods. With iron filling my hand the playing field was level, even for a skinny awkward teenager. I think there is a message buried there somewhere, something timeless and philosophical perhaps.

When you thumb the hammer back slowly there are four distinct clicks. The inimitable sound resulting when this is done quickly made Clint Eastwood what he is today.

Now this is hard to believe. I carried that gun to high school football games charged with loads of toilet paper. I sat in the student section and fired it into the air when the team scored. As the cliché goes: the crowd went wild. There is an innate and unfathomable sorrow associated with the death of innocence. Once lost, it can never again be regained. We live in such different times nowadays.