Bittersweet Nothings

Hey, now, what auspicious beginning can I make herein, I wonder? None, I suppose. As if I didn't have enough sorting and answering emails, web page building, toymaking and other stuff to fill my 'spare' time. Yea, right. 'Spare'...

Anyway, I know I'd thought of some stuff to throw up for a coupla days but now I'm wondering, 'Who really wants to read all about it?' I dunno but...

So, I went with the wife and kids to the shooting range the other week. Boy has developed a real redneck streak, largely because his Pappaw was certifiably Foxworthy-worthy. Flannel shirts, baseball caps, pickup truck and gun collecting were his big things. Definitely a hillbilly from way back, Bill was. So Boy likes to sport his own flannel and has a startup collection of firearms. I'm not crazy about 'em myself, too much potential for destruction, and they're scary LOUD! I like my music loud but, holy demolition!, the deer rifle will drown out any metal band bombastics- for a second anyway.

I took a few turns with the .22, enough firepower for me. Actually hit the target 6x outta 10, not bad considering my eyeglass Rx is probably three yrs. old at this point and I couldn't make out but the outline of the target. I gotta new one but the cars need inspected, new tires, body work, etc. before I get new specs. The kids had a blast, runing downfield once the shooting stopped to check the targets and hang new. Then they'd run back pretending the range alarm was a demolition signal of some sort, like it was gonna blow behind them unless they made it to the shelter of the shooting bench in time. Comical. What mixes better than juvenile hijinks and firearms, I ask you?!?

I brought one of the empty shells along in my pocket today to work to show to my toy buddy, Pat2(so named to avoid confusion with my high school pal, Pat, now designated Pat One). Pattoo is a huge gun nut. Well, not a 'nut', don't wanna give him the wrong impression in case he reads this. He also collects rocks for their crystalline beauty, coins for their antiquity, and toys for their childishly sentimental value as well so he can't really be a 'nut' right? >twitch, twitch< Hahahaha... But I forgot to show it to him. He'd have been so pleased, wants to get me on the range for a tryout with his .500 caliber uber-Dirty Harry handgun. Yow. I mean, this guy's got a few pounds on me and is square all over with clubby meathooks that make two of mine and this gun throws his arms over his head when it goes off... I'm seriously concerned that if I took a turn it'd crack my brittle baby forearm bones and ruin my chances of becoming a concert violinist forever...

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