You need to play IDPA

For those that don't know, IDPA is an acronym for International Defensive Pistol Association. It was organized in 1996, and it was meant to simulate real life defensive scenarios. The folks that designed it also intended for the average Joe to be able to 'play'. No high dollar "race" guns in this sport. Practical gear and practical weapons only. It's challenging, and at the same time, just plain ol' fun.

My weapon of choice for this match was my CZ 75b. I can't speak too highly of this pistol. It melts into my hands, and really does become an extension of said hand. It's natural aiming characteristics are not matched by anything else in my safe.

Some of the scenarios require a lot of movement, and you have to shoot while you move. While this looks easy when the Hollywood types do it on TV and the big screen, it's not. The sight picture moves with every step, and it's quite difficult to keep the weapon on target. Not only are there "bad" or "threat" targets, there are also "non-threat" targets. Sometimes the non-threat targets are moving in front of the threats, and your timing has to be just right so that the non-threats remain solid (as in, no holes in them). Unfortunately, I plugged one non-threat right in the forehead. Whoops.

Here are some pictures from the match. Momma Schu was kind enough to come along. She took a few pictures, not to mention scavenged a TON of brass for me. She's an awesome chick.

The pic above was taken as I was running from one barricade to another, while engaging five targets on the way. I received a 'procedural' penalty here because I dropped a magazine while reloading while there was still a round in the chamber. Meh.... learn the rules as you go.

Moving backwards while firing.... the Range Safety Officer (RSO) follows your every move - not just so the timer can keep the score, but to make sure you are safe. He also keeps everyone else on the range safe. It's a normally thankless job. This guy was good. Not only did he offer good advice on engaging targets, he also explained many things.

More movement. The black on the targets represents what is called 'hard cover'. In other words, if you hit the target where there is black, the hit doesn't count as a hit. It counts as a miss.

Here, the RSO is asking me if I am ready. In this scenario, the shooter stands with his back to the bad guys, hands in the air. When the buzzer sounds, the shooter spins, draws, and engages all of the targets. My cover garment was too heavy for this weather. Next time I will wear a shirt similar to the RSO's.

Shooting from cover. Leaning to one side or the other while both feet stay behind the barricade. Again, the RSO is close by, making sure I don't do anything stupid.

Words can't describe how much fun this type of shooting is. It challenges the shooter to something different each time. The people involved in this are really nice. I've only shot two matches, and I have yet to hear any foul language or trash talk. Then again, it wouldn't be wise to start talking trash to a person(s) carrying a sidearm. An armed society is a polite society, and for good reason.

I highly recommend shooting in an IDPA match. Go to IDPA.com to search for matches being held in your area. You don't have to be a member of any range or gun club. IDPA will help hone your shooting skills, as well as your 'tactical' awareness. It will teach you speed and accuracy, and will show you where you need to practice. Competition generally makes one try harder, and when that happens, you will improve your skills.

Get out and shoot. Don't wait. Don't think you need to practice more. Go compete. You won't regret it.

CZ Range Report

I took the new CZ 75b out to the range today. Kelly was nice enough to come with me and take a few pictures. And I took a picture of her.

I have to admit - my mouth fell agape after the first three rounds from this pistol. The recoil was so incredibly manageable. I honestly could not get over it for a little while. Follow up shots were so easy. The pistol points very naturally. All I had to do was bring it forward and raise it to my line of sight, and the sights were almost always lined up on target.

The picture of me above, and the picture just below this paragraph were taken during my first set of double tap drills. The first picture was taken during the warm-up, and the second after I had become a little more familar with the pistol.

On to triple taps. Two to the chest, one to the head. This is really very easy with this pistol. The weight of the all steel frame really helps absorb the recoil. It doesn't hurt that the pistol is chambered for 9x19, either. This is UMC 115 grain round nose ammunition. I should have put the chronograph on them, but I didn't bring it with me this time. I also need to work on keeping my tongue in my mouth. One of these days I'm gonna bite it off.

As you can see in the picture above, the slide is completely recoiled. Yet muzzle flip is very minimal. Three pieces of brass in the air. Not too bad. And my tongue is where it belongs - behind my teeth.

Accuracy wasn't bad either.

The following is an 8" paper plate that was hung on the target board at a distance of ten yards. These groups were made firing about as fast as I could pull the trigger. The magazine was loaded with fifteen rounds, and the fun began.

Not too bad, really. My shots fall in the center of the target to start with, and then I walk them to the left almost every time. I will have to work on that. And the whole tongue thing.

Kelly got in on the action, too. She put a couple of rounds through the CZ, and you can see by the smile on her face that she enjoyed it.

I think she had more fun with the Browning Buckmark, though. I thoroughly enjoyed my trip to the range with my wife. Any time I can spend with her is good time. By the looks of things, I may just have to get her a .22 pistol of her own.

The downside?

While the magazine release is easy to reach (even for my short fingers), the magazines would not readily fall from the pistol. I had to grab the base of the mag and pull it out in order to reload. I am not sure how I will handle this problem yet, but when I come up with a solution, I will post it here.

Overall, this pistol has now moved to the number one spot. It ranks above the Browning Hi Power only because it feels better in my hands than the Hi Power does. However, I have ordered a set of slim grips for the Hi Power, and when they come in I will have to compare the two side by side. That will be a post for a different day.

Until then, the CZ will remain on my hip as I go about my business in Texas. It is a little heavier than most pistols on the market today, but one gets used to the extra weight. Especially when the trade-off is performance like this.

So, if you are considering a first pistol, or if you are thinking about adding another one to your stable, you would be well served to go and fondle one of CZ's many offerings. If all steel isn't your gig, then check out the SP01. It has a very similar feel to the 75b, but it's frame is polymer. Fit and finish on both pistols is above standard, and they are both very slim.

Very dependable - at least the first time out. I plan on putting several thousand rounds through the CZ75, and I will report on it as I do.

Hope, Change, and Shortage

This is my new toy (thanks Kelly!). I added it to the stable about two days ago. It's a CZ 75B, and it's chambered in 9x19.

Slide fit to frame is nice. It needs to have a good workout, and I plan on doing that very soon.

I've been looking at purchasing this pistol for quite some time (about a year), and finally did it.

Some would protest the 9mm cartridge, and they have that right. I own several handguns, chambered in cartridges from 22LR to .50 AE. While I do like my 1911 pistols (.45 ACP), I have recently begun to have a penchant for the 9mm. There are several reasons for that, but I won't go into them here.

The day after I purchased the CZ, I ventured out to a few places near Houston to find powder and primer so that I could continue to reload (a task which I will perform today after updating this blog). The first place I went to was completely out of powder and primer. Well, that's not altogether true. They did have a couple of pounds left, but it was specialty powder. They were completely out of primer. I've never seen anything like it.

So, I came home and started checking out the internet. I was able to find about five pounds of powder. It's a different powder than I am used to, but I will have to give it a try. It just may be the thing for the new pistol. Then again, maybe not. Either way, it is certainly better than having no powder.

The search for primer still continues. I looked online this morning for close to two hours, and I turned up empty. Most places aren't even taking orders on primer because the suppliers are backed up for months.

What's going on?

Recently the government tried to prevent the sale of expended military brass to the public. The edict went out a few months ago. The public could still buy the brass, but it would have to be destroyed first. That makes a lot of sense.

The outcry, as one would imagine, was great. Eventually, the government rescinded that order, and the sale of mil-surp brass is once again available to the public.

However, this started a panic. American shooters don't like the idea of being limited in what they can purchase. At one time, I did a fairly good amount of shooting. I burned about four hundred rounds each week practicing. I can't do that anymore. There just isn't the supply that there once was. Ammunition is hard to come by, and now so are the components to make ammunition on my own.

To top things off, the Federal government decided that they would test the waters in yet another area by threatening to make it illegal for me to assemble my own ammunition at home. Not only that, but it may also be illegal for me to purchase the parts to assemble my own rifle or pistol at home. This is absolutely ridiculous. Few ever thought this day would come in the US, but here it is.

This prompted Montana to pass a law that basically tells the Federal government to p*ss off. They decided that Montana citizens would no longer have to be holden to federal laws regarding firearms made in Montana and sold to Montana citizens. Ammunition is also going to be covered under this law. In short, any Montana citizen that purchases a firearm made in Montana, or ammuntion assembled in Montana, would not have to concern themselves with any federal paperwork. This is a fantastic step in the right direction, as the federal government has no business dabbling in the personal lives of it's citizens. This, and other laws recently passed by several states, has caused a line to be drawn in the sand. Texas has similar legislation on the books, and I hope it gets voted on before September.

People....
We have to remember that the federal government exists to do two things (basically).
Their assignment is to protect the borders of the United States (defend us from our enemies), and punish those that break certain laws. The Fed has been given certain specific responsibilities, and beyond that, the duties of that wchich remains belongs to the States or it's citizens. That is why we have the right to practice any religion of our choice (or not practice at all). Of course, the practice of said religion cannot cause harm on someone else, nor can that religion be racist in nature. We also have the right to do as we choose.

In short, the federal government has no more authority to do any more than you or I can do.
Yet, they over step those boundaries every day.

For example:
Let's say that your neighbor has a nice car. You decide that you want that car. You cannot go to your neighbor's place and remove this car from his/her possession. You just can't. You can't go to your neighbor's house and take his money (no matter how much you feel you should be able to do so). You can't do this (nor would you) even if your neighbor has more than enough money. That would be stealing. Yet this is exactly what is getting ready to happen. The feds will be (and have been) deciding that certain people make "enough" money, and therefore these people should pay more taxes. So, the feds pass a law that you are forced to obey, and they take more money from some folks' paychecks than other people's paychecks.

So, why is there a shortage of ammo?
People are really freaking out. They are concerned that the government is going to come and take things from them. Some say it can't happen. The same things were said through out history. And the people with power did exactly what they wanted to do. It can happen here. All signs point to just that.

Don't get me wrong. I would rather cast a ballot instead of fire a bullet.

We can make the change. But we all have to get involved, and we all have to learn our history.

Most people are fine with small changes as long as their "stuff" isn't in danger of going away. If someone went to your neighbor's place and removed their classic car from their garage because it wasn't "needed", many people wouldn't think anything of it. When those same people came to your house to remove your hobby because it wasn't "needed", you would wail. Too late. The "change" is already started.

C'mon folks. Get involved. Learn your history. Learn that we cannot make the mistakes that China, Vietnam, Russia, et al, made not too long ago. Take a stand.

Stay independent Texas.

Random ->

It's been a while.

Nothing really to blog about, not many people read it anyway. But, it is good to get things off of one's chest now and again.

I just got finished with a short run. I am not as young as I used to be. The gray in the hair is more prominent. My body certainly cannot do what it used to be able to do. I still think it can, though. I ran for about one and a half miles tonight, and I mixed some walking in there. Oddly, the legs and back can take the punishment. The lungs? Not so much. But they are getting there. Slowly but surely, they are getting there.

So, why do it? Why run? Why keep in shape? Everyone has their reasons. I have mine, and they have to do with health. But more than that, I want to be able to hike through the Hill Country in Texas. I want to hike the Grand Canyon. I want to paddle the Pecos River with my family. Just us, a couple of canoes, and whatever we can fit in the boat. Two weeks on the water in the wilderness. I want to pit myself against the wild. I have to know that I can do it.

When I was younger, I played a lot of basketball. I played baseball, too, but not as much as I played and loved basketball. I remember many nights when I was in college I would meet several of my friends in our church parking lot and play basketball until two or three o'clock in the morning. I would open the trunk of my Beretta and crank up the stereo. Guns 'n Roses, Ozzy, AC/DC.... you get the picture. The punishment on the body was more than I realized.

About six years ago, I was playing softball in a men's D league. I pitched (mostly because everyone else was scared to pitch). My foot had some problems with pain, so I went to a podiatrist. I found out I had a broken bone. Nice.

While I was there, the doc asked if I had experienced any trauma. I didn't believe I had, so I told her no. Then she showed me the x-rays of my feet.
Holy crap.

My ankles were both white in the x-ray. This was the result of having my ankles trashed many times during my 'career'. I had a cast on each ankle at least six times (each). Basketball is not a non-contact sport. It's also hard on the knees.

All of that came flooding back tonight as I was running. I had really forgotten what it was like to experience sharp pains like that. In a sick way, it felt kind of good, as long as I was running. It's hard to explain, but it reminds me that I am still alive. It's amazing.

This evening's run was a good ending to an otherwise surreal day.
The day started out well enough, until I realized I was going to miss an early morning meeting today at work. No worries. Not much was covered anyway.

Work trucked along just fine until lunch. I opened up my microwave dinner (Asian pot stickers), and noticed the box was a little damp. I thought it was because the box spent the last few days in the freezer. So, I opened the box, and immediately filled my sock with "juice". All of the sweet and sour sauce that was in the package apparently was now in my shoe. 'Salright? 'Salright.

Later, after lunch, it was time for a snack, and I had a cupcake. Sounds good, no?
It would have been, but somehow when I opened the package the cupcake literally exploded. I know that sounds funny, but it did. The package popped, and the cupcake split into about six pieces, most of them landing on my shirt.

Oh, well. The day was almost over.

After I got home, momma decided that she wanted to go eat at a place called Kappa's in Pearland. They have fantastic sushi. I had the jalapeno roll. Very good. Jalapeno roll is not good, however, if you plan on running for a while afterwards. All the food stayed where it was supposed to, though, and the night ended on a good note.

I'll do my best to muster up some decent topics in the coming days. For now, however, it is time to go to bed. I have to be at work early tomorrow.

Goodnight, Texas.

Come and Take Them

It's been a while.

A couple of weeks ago, I took my family to Dallas to see an exhibit at the Dallas Museum of Art. King Tutankhamun's stuff was in town. My daughter has been studing Egyptology since she was around eight, and has since been fascinated with just about anything "Egypt". She wants to go to Cairo one day.

We got back from Dallas late on a Saturday, only to find that our old collie was at the end of his rope. It was a sad ending to an otherwise fabulous weekend.

Then reality set in.

Tea parties. Political angst. An over bearing Federal Government. Panic. More anger.

Fewer bullets available. :) I do a LOT of shooting for sport. With the recent political climate, ammunition is very scarce. I am even having a hard time finding the components to make my own ammunition (an act which, if the Feds have their way, will soon be illegal).

I digress.... back to the fervor.

Our governor, Rick Perry, made a few comments on the topic of secession.

The main stream media went crazy.

Not only did the media go nuts about the comments that Perry made, the MSM also down-played the tea parties around the state (and nation) that brought those comments about. If you haven't heard about the tea parties, you may want to start getting your news elsewhere.

Recently, according to a memo released by the Department of Homeland Security, I have been labeled an extremist. While the vast enemies of the United States are frothing at the mouth to see her collapse, my country has labeled me, a citizen, an extremist.

I am not religious. I am pro-life. I am also of the belief that our government has become way more intrusive than it was intended to be. When the federal government can mandate to a State what that State will and will not do, the federal government has over stepped it's bounds, and as a result, the 'contract' that the State had with that government is null and void. It's not hard to understand.

The Federal Government was given certain specific responsibilities, and it (the fed) cannot assume that a certain power belongs to it unless it is expressly given to it by the US Constitution. It really, really isn't hard to understand.

So, when the Fed told the State of Texas that it was going to give Texas so much money to expand welfare and unemployment benefits, Texas refused. Why? Because once that money runs out (and it will), Texas will have to continue to pay the benefits on her own dime. So, in short, the Fed was stating to a State (in this case Texas) that Texas would have to increase taxes to pay for welfare and unemployment benefits. According to the Tenth Amendment, the Federal Government cannot do this.

But it did.

Now, I don't know if I am a rebel at heart because I am a Texan. I think it has more to do with the way I was raised. But, whatever it is, I have become one of the millions of people that have had it up to my neck with the Federal Government.

You needn't play the race card. I was fed up with the Fed long before B. Obama took office. Bush was no gift to independence either. Nor was his father.

We, as a country, have become so dependent upon someone else to do things for us that we have forgotten what freedom truly is. Really. I know this is hard to understand for some - there are actually those people out there that believe that the government should go as far as to tell us what to eat, how much to eat, what to drive, and where to drive.

Do you realize where this could lead?

Our Founding Fathers really weren't saints, but they did realize that an intrusive government was not a good thing. Jefferson even suggested that a revolution was necessary once in a while order to maintain a healthy Republic. Republic. NOT Democracy. We are a democratic Republic. There is a difference.

Yes, we do vote on things. But when those votes intrude on the rights of others, they have to be revoked.

California recently voted to ban gay marriage. I do foresee that vote being over turned. A truthful Republic cannot look at one person differently than it looks at another. Banning gay marriage is basically saying that one person can get married, and another person cannot get married. No matter how one tries to spin it, this requires the government to get involved at a level which it need not be involved.

For the record, I do not agree with homosexuality. However, banning gay marriage is going to do nothing concerning homosexuality. The Federal government needs to stay out of that battle. Honestly, I don't see what the big draw is on this topic. I absolutely do not give a rat's ass whether two men or two women get married. Leave me out of it, and leave small children and animals out of it.

What happens if the government takes a vote and decides that a particular religion is not acceptable? Well, I would wager that this would sit quite well with those whose religion is acceptable, but the one on the short end of the stick would be screwed. Again, the Fed needs to stay out of it.

We are at the point where the government can do as it pleases.

Patrick Henry once said that if we (the people) were not willing to use force to maintain our liberty, then we would be ruined. I am afraid that there are not enough citizens willing to use force to cast off the Federal government.

Don't get me wrong. I think we are a long way from using force. There are many ways to turn this big boat around. But we have to start by leaving the federal government in a spot which it was intended to be. The Fed does not belong in your living room, or your bedroom. The Federal government does not have the power to tell you or me that we must use a certain type of light bulb, or a certain toilet.

"We Texans are an independent lot", says Rick Perry. While I didn't sit on Perry's side of the fence when it came to curtailing illegal immigration (he said he was going to stop it and he didn't), I wholeheartedly agree with him on this statement.

I want to live as I see fit, and pursue my own happiness. I want the Feds to punish the law breakers, and protect my borders. And I want my governor to continue to keep the Fed at arm's length.

It's the only way to maintain our independence.

I do NOT want a revolution.

I do not want to be punished for being successful by being taxed heavier than my neighbor. I do not want my two kids to have to pay for the debt we are racking up right now.

I do want freedom and liberty.

I will do what I need to do in order to maintain that freedom and liberty.

Many years ago, two kings met each other in a small pass near the Mediterranean Sea. The first king, Xerxes, wanted to take something from another king, Leonidas. He wanted to remove Leonidas' people's right to self governance. While the Spartans were no model for a Republic, they showed us how to defend honor, a word that has all but lost it's meaning as of late.

So, should the Federal Government decide that it needs to make my decisions and thereby remove my right to self governance, let them try.

When the Fed demands our liberties, we should answer them with these words:

"Molon Labe"..... Come and Take Them"

Holiday Madness

It's been a while since my last post.

Lots of things have been happening. Our president and other elected officials continue to steer our country towards socialism. We are told over and over that the economy is in the tank. Pirates have captured a United States vessel and have had their way with the crew.

What? Pirates? My son couldn't get over this. He has been enamoured with pirates since Pirates of the Carribean: The Curse of the Black Pearl was released. He had many questions. The most important one to him was, "Do these pirates dress like old-timey pirates and sail in ships?"

While that brings a bit of levity to a very serious situation, the lack of action by our Commander in Chief is mind boggling. I see this as a test by more than just a few pirates. Look for Korea, Iran, and other countries to further test our mettle. Not to be too pessimistic, but I don't expect good results.

Back home in Texas, things are trucking along as they normally do.

Today is Good Friday (a name which I never understood, even when I was a Christian). Yesterday, Kelly and I went to Wal Mart (my least favorite store) and purchased close to $200 worth of candy for the kids. While we still celebrate Easter, it's not for the same reasons as the majority of Americans. It is a fun holiday, though.

Today, we had to mail some things, which meant we needed to go into Pearland proper. Silverlake to be exact. It was absolute madness. People were every where. They were blocking intersections, cutting other drivers off, not paying attention to where they were going, etc.

First off, the economy is supposed to be in the tank. Oddly, many, many people are out shopping. Commercialism is strong.

Why is it, that holidays have to bring out the worst in people?

I am sure that everyone enjoys getting together with their families. I fall into this category. But why is it that we have to treat the people we don't know like crap? People appear to be in their own little world, and they could give a flying rat's ass about the person they just cut off in traffic.

It wasn't just in traffic.

We went to a little place called Bass Pro Shops to look at some 'toys' for dad. The Easter bunny was there, and parents were taking pictures of their little ones sitting on the curiously large rabbit's lap. The line for this event was quite long, and in fact, just about blocked the entrance to the store. I take that back. It did block the entrance.

How dare you ask someone to allow you to enter the store. That would require someone to move a little bit and open a gap in the line. Happy Easter.

At the entrance to the store, the kind folks at Bass Pro will have a plate of their should-be-world-famous fudge. Guests to the store are welcome to a piece when they enter. "A" piece, as in one. When we got there, a woman was loading up on the fudge, taking at least a dozen pieces. Hey, it's free right? Happy Easter.

What does a rabbit have to do with Easter anyway? Well, actually, it has quite a lot to do with "Ishtar", the queen of heaven. I will let you do your own research on that little topic, but feel free to ask questions if you like.

Bottom line, holidays can be quite stressful. When you are out and about, please be mindful of other people. They are trying to get their business taken care of, just like everyone else. We really should be mindful of others, and we should be kinder than we need to be to each other. Everyone is fighting some kind of battle. Some of the battles are quite intense, but the battle is very real to the one figting it.

Treat people with kindness. Even when you don't feel like it. That doesn't mean you have to bend over backwards, but it does mean you can choose to walk away from a stressful situation, or lend a hand to someone that needs it.

Take your time out there.

Happy Easter.

I'm Not Sick, But I'm Not Well

What a difference a day makes.
I got to sleep in today. I love working four tens. I do miss the overtime pay, but not the hours.

Today my daughter left to spend the weekend at the in-laws house. The boy was supposed to go, too, but because of the massive head wound he received yesterday, we felt it would be best that he stay home with us. He and his cousin play very well together, and, as boys usually do, rough house a bit.

No more trips to the ER, thanks.

Have you ever noticed that many nurses that work in the ER are quite rude? The one I encountered yesterday told me that I couldn't go and stay with my son while he was getting stitched up. After a few words, I was permitted to go to the back and hold my boy's hand. Mom and dad in the same room make all the difference for an eight year old boy who is terrified because of the sight of all the blood. And it was a LOT of blood.

About seven years ago, Charlie (who was about eleven months at the time) and I were playing in our front yard. I picked him up to talk to a passing neighbor, when I noticed that he appeard to be sweating profusely. I brought him inside to give him a cool bath, and I noticed then that he had large welts all over his body.

Before too long, he was swelling. I mean really swelling. His ears were so swollen, that they flopped over. He was barely recognizeable. We rushed to the hospital. By the way, a 2000 Chevrolet Impala will reach speeds in excess of 120 if you have enough road.

We got to the hospital, and I dropped momma and son off at the door. Rachel and I parked the car, and ran back to the entrance of the ER. I couldn't find Kelly or Charlie, so I asked the "lady" at the check-in desk if she could check and see if they had been back. She looked at her paperwork and told me that there was no one with the name of Charlie or Kelly that had signed in.
"Impossible", I thought. So, Rachel and I walked through the waiting area again.

I should tell you that this was shortly after Tropical Storm Allison had plowed through Houston. Many hospitals were closed, and this one, one of the few that were operating, was packed. With illegal immigrants. I was not happy.

I checked three times for my wife and son, and had no luck in finding them.
So I went back to the desk.

I was not received warmly. In fact, I was threatened to be quiet and wait my turn.

Not a good thing. Not for me, not at that time.

Both of my feet left the ground as I jumped over the desk and grabbed the "lady" by the collar, demanding that she find my son.
It was at this time that a candy striper (or some sort of volunteer) stepped in. She asked me what my son was wearing and what he looked like.
I released the scum behind the desk and answered.
She replied, "He was in bad enough shape that we didn't admit him here. They took him immediately to the back. Let me show you where he is."

Now, I am not one that is quick to anger.
I understand that the lady behind the desk was more than likely under a lot of stress, especially with the high volume of non-English speaking "patients". But that doesn't mean that she can brush someone off because she doesn't feel like going back and taking a look.

After an epi-pen injection and a good shot of Benadryl, Charlie's swelling subsided. We spent the night at the hospital, and we were sent on our way home.

Going to the emergency room is more than likely par for many parents who have a son. I spent my fair share of time in the emergency room, from busted ankles, almost severed toes, and even a crushed hand. More often than not, the care givers are very polite. But lately, not so much.

Today we enjoyed some much needed alone time with Charlie. He's in the tub now, and I must go and wash his hair so we can make sure that the staples stay in his head.

Y'all have a great evening.
Goodnight, Texas. Be safe.
And be independent.

This Might Sting A Little....

Today was certainly one of those days.

I woke up late, which put me to work just after six a.m.
Parked the truck, walked into the building, and waited forever for an elevator. A large group of people gathered in the lobby waiting for the same elevator.

No one in this office building is very friendly in the morning. I try to greet everyone I see with a lively, "Good Morning!", and too many people just frown back. I always answer that scowl with a loud, "Apparently not for you", reply.

I get to my office entrance and realize that I had left my badge (the one that grants access to my office) in my truck, which was in the parking, which was now being pelted with heavy rain.

Nice. No umbrella.

Back into the elevator. Sprint to the truck, grab the badge, sprint back to the building.
The rain, which was once coming down really good, has now stopped. Just in time for me to reach cover.
Nice.

I spend about an hour or so at this office, but not much longer. I have to attend a couple of meetings at another office. So, at 8:45, I walk back out to the truck (raining once again), and drive to the other office. I'm about five minutes late for my meeting.

Walking into the meeting, I pass a co-worker in the hall. She smiles and greets me with, "Good Morning! What's that on your shirt?"
"My shirt? What....?"

This office is in Texas City. There are many, many seagulls in Texas City. Apparently, one had a target for me.

Real nice.

The meeting went well. We broke just in time for lunch. My boss was coming in for the next meeting, and he decided to spring for lunch.
I can deal with that.

The meeting he came in for was a fairly important meeting, and I had not planned on attending. But he insisted that I attend. I am glad that I did, but I had to leave early because I had a six week follow up appointment with my surgeon regarding the neck surgery I had in February.

I didn't leave the meeting in time to make the appointment when it was scheduled. Traffic was quite heavy, and I arrived at my doctor's office two minutes late - I hate being late.

Unfortunately, the doctor was also running late. So I had to wait for about an hour. I finally got in, received some good news, and was sent on my way.

But - while I was making my three month follow up appointment, my cell phone rang. It was my lovely wife. I sent the call to voice mail so I could finish talking to the nurse. Kelly called back immediately, so I answered it with, "I am paying my bill, let me call you right back".

To which she replied, "NO! Be quiet and listen to me. Charlie hit his head on the tailgate of the van. He's split his head open. We are on our way to the emergency room."

Nice.

Kelly does NOT do blood well.
One time a few years back, she went to our G.P. for a physical. They had to draw blood. Kelly went to the bathroom right after they took the blood, and I was sitting in a room that was down the hall from the bathroom. I watched her walk in, then I heard, "Bang! THUMP!", and Kelly tumbled into the hallway. She had passed out because she was thinking about the blood that was drawn.

Now she had to tend to Charlie as the doc in the ER was stitching up his head.
If you know anything about head wounds, you know that they bleed like crazy. I think Kelly would rather watch two weeks of The View than deal with a wound that required stitches.

Charlie's wound didn't require stitches. It required staples. Four of them.

By the time I got to the hospital, the stapling was complete. The doctor brought me to the room, and when I opened the door, I saw Charlie laying on a table that was covered with a white cloth. The cloth was soaked (and not with water). His hair was caked, and he looked pretty scared. Kelly looked relieved. She shuffled back to a chair and sat down, letting out a long sigh. Charlie was still scared, but he got better.

The doctor explained what he did, and invited Kelly over to see the work he had done. Kelly blanched. "Not good for her", I said the doc. "But I sure would like to see!"

So, we received our instructions from the doctor, and we were advised of what we should observe regarding Charlie's behavior, and we went on our way.

Nice.
Now in ten days, we take Charlie to his doc to have the staples removed.

Sadly, Charlie was scheduled to go and see his cousin in the Beaumont area and attend the South East Texas State Fair. He will not be able to go because of his wound. I really wish he had paid attention to what he was doing in the parking lot - poor kid. In fact, as we were leaving the hospital, he told me, "I think I will start listening now".

Nice.
See? There is a silver lining in every cloud.

Whattayudo?

We all need a break from time to time.

What do you do to unwind?

Some folks like to do nothing. You know... sit on the couch and watch television.

Others like to have a few drinks. Nothing wrong with that.
Others curl up with a good book - such as my wife.
Bike riding. Canoeing. Fishing. Running. Lifting Weights. Cross-stitch. Scrap booking. Drawing or painting.
Your mileage may vary.

Mine is a little more violent than most.

I like to get out to the range.

The name of my range is PSC.
Few things relax me like the smell of gun powder and the gentle nudge of a small carbine on my shoulder.

Yeah.... I'm weird that way.

Don't misunderstand. I like getting away with my wife and my family. It's a real treat to get away with just my wife. But that takes planning, and it is very expensive.

But when I have had a stressful week, the quickest fix is a trip to the range. In less than an hour, I am good as new.

Maybe it's the rebel in me. Maybe it's just the thick Texan blood.... but I like running my pistol through it's paces and testing my speed and accuracy. I also like poking small holes in pieces of paper that are reeeaaallly far away.

Most folks don't understand this. Many will scratch their heads and fear for their safety. Don't worry. There is no need to lock up your daughters. Not on my account.

But some of you out there understand. If you don't understand, and you would like to understand, find and join your local range. You won't meet a nicer group of people, and you will be shocked at how much fun you can have.

And yes, it's totally safe (as safe as you are).

(You can view photos of my vice here. )

Take some time out. Find something you like to do, and do it. Everyone will benefit as a result.

So -
Whattayudo? Go Dowatchadoo.

DEVIL'S ADVOCATE

Today is one of those days that I woke up in a really weird mood. Lack of sleep, little bit of pain in the shoulder following my surgery in late February..... you know..... typical morning in a typical househould in America.

As is my habit, I turned on the radio on the way to work. I like to keep up with local news and national news, much to the chagrin of my lovely bride of eighteen years. (Sorry hon.)

The topic du jour was about an energy drink that has received a lot of attention lately called Cocaine. From what I gathered from the radio show, this drink has been banned in Texas, and the Texas Courts (who ever or where ever that is) has fined the owner of this small company $825,000 USD.

What???

Turns out that many people don't like the name of the drink. So they raised sixteen kinds of hell about it, and had it banned in Texas. Few things get me twisted six ways from Sunday such as this.

I will readily admit that I do not know the details of this case. But from what I have heard from the various reports is that people just simply don't like the name.

This doesn't really sit well with me.

What really bothers me is that most of the uprising has come from people on the "right", meaning Conservative thinking people. These are the same people that scream foul about political correctness. The same ones that get weirded out when someone uses the term 'racist', or 'affirmative action'.

While the topic of the day was an evil energy drink (evil only because of it's NAME), the word of the day was desensitize.

de-sen-si-tize : 1. to make (a sensitized or hypersensitive individual) insensitive or nonreactive to a sensitizing agent. 2. to make emotionally insensitive or callous - specifically to extinguish an emotional response (as of fear, anxiety, or guilt) to stimuli that formerly induced it.

So apparently our children (it's always about the children) are hypersensitive, or they are scared of the smallest things. And as a result, we need our big brother (Uncle Sam) to step in and make things right.

Either our children are too stupid to tell the difference between an energy drink and an illicit, illegal drug, or our parents are too weak to instill proper thinking skills in their children, or our parents are too scared to tell their children, "NO".

What in the hell has happened to us? Do we really need someone else, some elected official, some beauracratic entity, to make decisions for us? Must we call on them any time we feel offended or scared to come in and flex their muscles and run all of the big corporate bullies crying back home to mommy with their tails tucked?

Personally, I could give a rip either way concerning this drink. I have no idea what it tastes like, or if it even works. I am a Rock Star drinker, to be honest, and I just started drinking that drink about three weeks ago. I guess it works. I do like the taste. My problem lies with fear and ignorance.

Many years ago, a company developed a soft drink called Coca-Cola. It actually contained Cocaine. It was quite addictive, and it was peddled as a medicinal drink. It sold well (wonder why?). But, eventually, the company was told they could no longer use cocaine as part of the recipe. The drink was still wildly popular, and people continued to buy it. The people made the decision to continue buying the product, even though they knew it no longer contained cocaine.

So now, we have a drink on the market called Cocaine. I guess we are too stupid to realize that it is simply a drink, and nothing more. Unless the maker has figured out a way to introduce actual cocaine into the recipe without the FDA noticing, I think we are doing our self a disservice by allowing the government to step in and tell this owner "no". Let the people decide. Get the government out.

Many people will disagree with me. I understand that. So the vocal majority (or minority) will cause change based on legislation. Do we really need more legislation? What will happen when the legislation is in opposition to your standpoint? It doesn't matter if you are conservative, liberal, independent... someone is making decisions on your behalf. Decisions that you are perfectly capable of making on your own. That's right... all by your lonesome. And you don't need to be afraid of making the wrong decision. That's what is so incredible about being a Texan. We are a very hearty people. We bounce back. Remember the Alamo? Of course you do. Santa Anna handed our asses to us at the Alamo, and we showed him what we were made of at San Jacinto. We didn't give up.

Wake up y'all! We can make decisions for ourselves. We do not need legislation to tell us if something is offensive. We can do that all on our own.

Last time I checked, pornography was a huge, multi-billion dollar a year industry. Ask any conservative person what they think of pornography, and they will more than likely tell you that it has no place in our society and culture. And yet, there it is. Who is funding this? Who makes up the foundation of a multi-billion dollar industry? The majority of Americans will claim to be of the Christian faith, and yet the pornographic industry thrives.

With all of this outrage (false or not), why doesn't the government step in and make some new laws? What's the deal with the double standard?

Come on, people. What happened to our independent spirit? It's time to lead our children by example. Don't hide behind the skirt of the nanny state. Step out and make a stand by our actions. If you don't like a product, don't buy it. Leave the government out of it. The adverse is true, too. If you like a product, let others know about it.

If we don't wake up and take control now, soon, very soon, someone will complain that they are offended by the way you raise your children. And soon, very soon, the government will knock on your door and tell you that they will decide what is best for your children. Or your parents. Or you.

Sleep tight, Texas. You can tuck your self in bed.

And stay independent.

ESPIONAGE

I had a date this evening. And not with my wife.
Try telling your wife that you have to meet someone at Starbucks in the evening.

"I have to leave as soon as dinner is over".

"Why?"

"I have to meet someone at Starbucks. I won't be gone long. Fifteen minutes, tops."

"Who?"

"Her name is (omitted). She is an investigator, and she has questions about (we'll call him Joe) Joe's background. She wants to know how I know Joe."

Fortunately, my wife is a super cool gal. Even more fortunate (for her) is the fact that I simply cannot lie. I mean, I have tried in the past, but I am not a good liar. That has it's pros and cons. Mostly the pros fall in her camp. I just don't do it very well.

I digress...

The whole reason for this is because a friend of mine has applied for a job with the US Government. All of his testing and credentials have been approved, and he has made several trips to the state in which he will be working.

However, before everything is finalized, an investigator has a job to do. This person will interview people that know my friend. And furthermore, they will ask people like me if they know of anyone that might be able to answer any questions the government might have concerning my friend. That question made me a little nervous. It's no secret to my friend that I am not a huge fan of our government at the moment, but the job he will be doing on a daily basis has my respect and approval. Politically speaking, I think we should clean house.

But I digress.... again.

For a while, I felt like a spy for some reason. That may be due to the way that the investigator contacted me. She had to leave a message on my cell phone, and I had to call her back. After the time and place was arranged, she ended the conversation with, "I will be the one with the big red bag." Then she hung up.

What?? Wait!
Is there some sort of phrase or password that I will need? Gimme something... C'mon!

When I arrived, I was nervous that other people would be watching. Would someone in a dark suit show up out of nowhere and pat me down? Would they confiscate my pistol? Would they follow me home?

Nah. I don't rank that high on the government's watch lists. It's better that way for now.

It was an interesting process, and had my wife not known about the goings on with our friend, I am sure she would have been a little more than curious. But, as it turned out, it wasn't as exciting as I thought it would be.

The interview lasted about fifteen minutes. The weather was really nice outside, but too windy for an interview - considering all of the paperwork involved. So, we moved from the outside to the inside, and we sat at a table right in front of another fella who was playing on his laptop. And sipping on a rather large cafe mocha latte frappacino la-tee-da-tah.

I picked something from the menu called a white mocha something or other. It was good, I have to admit. But I never can remember what the different coffees are, or how to pronounce them. In fact, not too long ago, we stopped at a Starbucks on the way home from a friend's house in north Houston. I was driving, and Kelly told me what she wanted - but I couldn't remember what it was called. As it turned out, she had to lean over to the driver's side of the car and order for all of us. It's a sad state when one cannot order their fancy coffee properly.

It's plausible that you, the reader, have determined by now that I am NOT a coffee shop geek. I am tragically un-hip, and so conservative minded that over hearing coffee shop talk makes my head spin. Not all of the people that sit in and around coffee shops are like the ones that frequent this one... then again, maybe they are. I cannot imagine bringing my laptop to a coffee shop and sitting at a table all alone for hours. In fact, I cannot imagine taking my laptop to the couch to sit for hours, tapping the keys. Seriously. I do that ALL DAY at my job. My lingo concerns camping, canoeing, family, and firearms. While some of the coffee shops folks may well go camping and canoeing, I would wager that very scant few have so many pistols that they can't decide which ones to compete with. My pistols are to me what shoes are to women. What I will wear on a particular day is determined by the pistol I want to carry. Sorry, ladies.... I am already taken.

Did I mention I am tragically un-hip?

As we sit down at the table, the investigator whips out a small badge holder and says, "Just so you know who I am, these are my credentials." This caught the attention of the guy that was sitting at the table nearby, and I could tell his interest was piqued. The investigator dropped her voice quite low from this point on, and I could see the guy leaning in over his laptop, trying to hear what we were talking about.

I had to bite my lip when I was asked if my friend (who is applying for this job) or I have ever plotted to over throw the US Government. Our coffee shop urchin just about fell out of his chair.

That's okay. Not many exciting things happen in Starbucks, especially in our little town. The last time I ever saw anyone get excited at a Starbucks was years ago, when my wife and I stopped in after a trip to the bookstore. I had purchased a Soldier of Fortune magazine, and I brought it in with me. For the record, I am not really into that sort of stuff. But there was an article that was pretty good in this issue that discussed the differences between an AR-15 and a Mini-14. Inquiring minds want to know what the experts think. Somehow, Kelly and I managed to secure a nice little table in a very crowded patio that day. And, for some reason, everyone we met at that shop seemed to be a little nervous and had trouble maintaining eye contact with me.

The 'date' today ended with a handshake and a thank you from my "date". She was very professional and polite, but I couldn't wait to get home to the woman I love.

I will miss my friend. He is leaving the great State of Texas in about thirty days. I am actually quite envious. I wish, really wish, that I could have a job in which I got to seek out the "bad" guys. It's a dream of mine, but only a dream. I don't have the military or police experience.... just the desire to make the country a nicer place to live.

Maybe one of these days I will go up and see my friend, and maybe he will be able to take me on a field trip. I can dream.

In the meantime, I will stay in Texas, and play with my toys, poking holes in the paper bad guys. And, more than likely, I will not be going on anymore dates with anyone but my lovely wife.

Now that is exciting.

At least for me.

REAR VIEW MIRROR

My Uncle Hank died last week. He was fifty-eight years old. Without offending any other relatives, Uncle Hank was my favorite uncle. I know one isn't supposed to play favorites, but I have very fond memories of our time together. In his memory, his son has posted a very cool video on Youtube.

If you like, you can view it here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7nqomtCoh20

I make a few appearances: once on his lap with a stuffed animal, and a couple of times in a signature brown suit, circa 1970. Don't laugh too hard.

We all know that as time goes by, we tend to get more involved with the people and things that are more immediate. By that, I mean that we are more apt to give attention to that which is only in front of us. Not that this is a bad thing, but forgetting the people that once had a major part in our lives seems to have become status quo for us. Then again, this may be how it has always been.

I remember my uncle in many ways that I won't share here. Attending his funeral was difficult, but it forces one to reckon with their own mortality. Visiting with cousins that I haven't spoken to in many years was sobering. They are old. They have children. They have characteristics and opinions. And yet, we still share many common traits. We look similar, we think similarly, and we speak similarly.

While we once lived in a relatively close area, we have migrated to different areas of Texas, and in some cases, other states in the Republic.

Most of my childhood was spent, at least in a familial sense, involved in much drama. At any given time, one or more of our aunts/uncles was angry at one or more of the other aunts/uncles. This made it difficult for the cousins to get together and maintain contact. As time goes by, distances grow.

Distance need not be defined by miles.

I find that we, as a whole, tend to worry about the big picture. We are concerned about the presidency (even if we won't admit it). We worry about the economy, and the security of, not only our family, but our nation. Rarely do we stop and think about extended family. At least I don't.

Time goes by quickly. Get to know your family if you haven't already. Make time to go and see that aunt, uncle, brother, sister, mother, father, or cousin. Remember that you share a commonality with that person that very few people in the world do - a heritage and a history.