Friday Fun: Who's Better...

Got the inspiration for this post listening to Sirius Satellite Radio channel 19 (Buzz saw). Sammy Hagar's "There's Only One Way (to Rock)" was playing, and I couldn't help but think just how much I liked that song. Then... I started playing the "Is it better than..." game...

So...

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I'll avoid the eternal "Van Halen with Dave vs. Van Halen with Sammy" argument (Dave) but twist it slightly:

Who's better: Sammy Hagar solo, or David Lee Roth solo?

Point: The aforementioned "There's Only One Way (to Rock)"
Counterpoint: "ShyBoy"

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Who's better: Pink Floyd with David Gilmour fronting, or Roger Waters solo?

Point: "Marooned" on "The Division Bell" for sentimental reasons. :)
Counterpoint: "Radio KAOS".

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For the '80s hair-band fans:

Who's better: Mr. Big or Extreme (pre-selling out, that is)

Point: "Addicted to that Rush"
Counterpoint: "Do You Want to Play?"

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Classic hard rock:

Who's better: AC/DC with Bon Scot on vocals, or AC/DC with Brian Johnson?

Point: "High Voltage"; "TNT"; "Jailbreak"...
Counterpoint: "Back in Black"; "Thunderstruck"

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Last one, Guitarists only.

Who's better: Eddie or Steve Vai?

Point: "Eruption"
Counterpoint: "Yankee Rose"

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Friday Gun Pr0n Number 22

Today's gun pic is one of my favorite low-budget plinking pistols, the Smith & Wesson Model 422:

With that cheap BSA red dot sight, it's still damn accurate:

That's 10 yards out, 10 shots which can be covered by a quarter. And I am by no means a marksman of any stripe...

The 422 falls somewhere between the 22A and the 41 in Smith's .22LR semi-auto line, which isn't saying a heck of a lot - it's like saying the Chevy Lumina was between the Chevette and the Corvette in the Chevy lineup... It's got a great weight to it, not too heavy but enough heft to keep it steady; the take-down is simple for cleaning; I literally cannot recommend this gun strongly enough.

And just to sweeten the deal, it shares magazines with the Model 41, one of the nicest shooting .22LR auto-loaders I've ever fired. So, down the road when I get my Model 41, I'll have an additional 4 magazines for it... :)

"Off the Grid"

This post inspired by Tam's brilliant dissection of the recent study that put the USA at the top of the list for heavily armed citizens.

Favorite quote:

This is why gun confiscation schemes are always so funny. Not only do we not know where they all are, we have no idea how many to look for. I hate to break it to the more idealistic folks that think some kind of magic complete gun ban would somehow solve anything, but this genie is well and truly out of the bottle. You might as well try rounding up sand.

Go RTWT. But please come back, as I've derived inspiration from comments I left, and didn't want to sully Tam's bandwidth with my inane utterings...

So... "Off the Grid" - it's can be used to indicate self-sustained households (i.e. well water, septic, independent power generation, etc) that could (theoretically) be off "Big Brother"s radar. I've appropriated the term vis á vis firearms to cover guns that are legally owned, yet "off the books". These are firearms with no records, no 4473 tracing them to current owner. There are many ways this can happen legally, and I'll not detail them here.

I had commented on Tam's post thusly:

Call me paranoid, but I wouldn't want to talk publicly about guns I had that were off the radar.

I had intended it to be a general warning, not an admonition to Tam (sorry 'bout that!). I don't trust the idiots/fascists in power (or seeking power) any further than I can throw the whole lot of 'em; I certainly don't want them getting any ideas about privately-owned firearms. We've already seen, via the "gun show loophole" bullshit, how they corrupt, twist and otherwise bend a perfectly legal avenue (private sales of firearms just like any other inanimate object) into something sinister and eeevil.

The last thing I want is for some nanny-statist Big Brother fuckwad to get a hair across his/her ass about guns no one knows about. Hell, the headlines practically write themselves; it seems like every year or so we hear of some widow trying to dispose of her late WWII vet husband's bring-backs (which are most certainly "off the grid" weapons) - what's to keep the Brady Bozos from drawing up press releases about "weapons of war owned by private civilians with no accountability" or some other twisted bullshit.

The truth doesn't matter to these people; hell, in the vast majority of their reports they have to cherry-pick data or outright lie ("43 times more likely to shoot yourself than an intruder if you have a gun in your home", frex). I don't want to see some massive pogrom ginned up from an anti-2A administration (Hillary!, Obamarama, call your respective orifices).

And then it truly infuriated me. Here I am, concerned about giving the .gov ideas, when we've got the Constitution clearly on our side. SHALL NOT BE INFRINGED. Where the fuck did the wheels start coming off the bus??? (My answer: Start with the racist Jim Crow laws that forbade freed slaves from owning firearms and move forward from there. NFA 1934. GCA 1968. FOPA 1986. AWB. The camel's whole freakin' front end is in the tent now...)

Gah. I'm off to the range.

Happy Anniversary!

...to Say Uncle, whose blog is five years old today.

Five years. That's a like a gabillion in people years...

Good deal, Unc. Keep up the good work.

Oops! Almost Forgot...

Here's my meager stash from yesterday's finger-in-the-eye to Jesse Jackson:

200 rounds of Blazer Brass 230 gr. .45 ACP. Good ol' hardball. This was a special find at only $12 a box - I knew ammo prices had gone up, but MAN there was some serious sticker shock. The 100 ct. WWB of .380 ACP, which was formerly like $18, is now $26 and change. .38 Special is almost as bad. Even .40 S&W is over $20 for a WWB 100 count.

I really, really, really need to start reloading...

Quote of the Day™

Comes from Bruce:

Now, I'm not terribly fond of criticizing total strangers, about whom I know very little [not that that's ever stopped me from doing so], but if you have a John Edwards bumper sticker on your car, or a campaign button on your backpack, you are an idiot.

And, not just the garden variety "Why does this milk still taste so funny?" idiot. We're talking the full-blown "tongue in the light socket" grade here.

RTWT.

Where I Channel "Larry The Cable Guy"...

Today's been queerer 'n' Larry Craig in a men's room...

That is all..

EDIT: Ooh! Thought of another one:

That'll stick out more than Larry Craig inna log cabin...

Life. Is. Good.

Lookee what just showed up on my doorstep:

I foresee much merriment in my immediate future...

SPOOOOON!

File Under "N"...

...for No Shit, Sherlock:

Ex-astronaut Nowak to use insanity defense

Two word response: Ya think???

I loved this part:

Nowak suffered from major depression, obsessive-compulsive disorder, insomnia and “brief psychotic disorder with marked stressors,” defense attorney Donald Lykkebak wrote. He said the already-petite woman had also recently lost 15 percent of her body weight and struggled with "marital separation.”

Gee, I wonder why? Here's a Top Ten List of why Lisa Nowak's husband left her:

1. Worried about losing his Astro-nuts.
2. Got tired of being the butt of the "Your Astronaut Wife's So Crazy" jokes.
3. Saw the writing on the padded wall.
4. Heard "So, I guess Freud was right about rockets" once too often.
5. Cost of "Depends" skyrocketing due to rising gas prices.
6. Kept breaking down in tears in frozen orange juice substitute section of supermarket.
7. Can't compete with the pressure of not being in the 10 mile high club.
8. Left his copy of "Space Flight for Crazies Dummies" out in the open.
9. Apparently, it's once you go astro you never go back.
10. Kept having "I Dream of Jeanie" flashbacks

Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all the week...

Random Road Rage Ramblings...

*To Mr. Self-Righteous Hippie Dipshit: My large pickup truck may not be the SUV your bumperstickers rail against, but it gets similarly poor fuel economy. However, it doesn't belch thick, acrid black smoke into the air like your 20 year old Volvo. Something about the mote in someone else's eye whilst ignoring your own plank seems fitting here...

*To Mrs. Soccer Mom with cell phone: Hang up and drive. Or, even better, stop driving and pull off the fucking road to talk. Barring either of those, pick a speed and lane and stick with them; it makes life easier that way. Your bumpersticker proclaims that your child is an honor student; I can only surmise that it happened by your child rebelling against you rather than the passing of superior genetic material.

*To the asshole in the Lexus who blew past the school bus with its red lights on: One of these days you're going to get caught by the cops while doing this. When this happens, please get out of your car suddenly and charge the police car while reaching into your jacket. Thanks.

School's open. Please drive carefully. Or stay the fuck home.

Reminder...

Go out and buy some ammo tomorrow.

Jacketed hollowpoints if you can. They induce more PSH than cute-n-cuddly FMJs...

That is all.

MArooned Movie Minute...

Time for another movie review. Today's movie is "The Simpsons Movie", which I saw yesterday afternoon with my kids.

Now, a little background first. "The Simpsons" is my favorite television show by a wide margin. For a long time, I not only watched and taped the original episodes Sunday nights at 8, but also watched the syndicated shows weeknights at 7/7:30 whenever possible. This tapered off as my kids started to understand/comprehend/regurgitate, and it dovetailed with a significant decrease in show quality as well, IMHO.

I've also been collecting the Seasons on DVD as they are released, and I realized that there was little sense in sitting through an additional 8 minutes of commercials when I was going to buy the DVD anyways.

Which is why, even though "The Simpsons Movie" was released to theaters on July 27th, I just saw it yesterday.

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Now, for the movie. I liked it. But then again, it would have been hard for me not to like it. I had read reviews that stated it was like a really long episode, and I have to agree with that assessment. There was the typical main story, focusing on Homer, and a "B" story focusing on one of the other Simpsons. Homer, as usual, is a drooling idiot who hurts everyone around him due to his carelessness/callousness and the rest of the characters react to him accordingly.

It's a standard episode of "The Simpsons" made extra-long. And, really, that's all there is to it. If you're a fan of "The Simpsons", you'll like the movie; if not, don't bother. There seemed to be an attempted to show (literally, just to show) every single character ever introduced on the show, which was cute and unexpected.

That is all...

Mousegun Mania!

There's something in the air with mouseguns. Everybody's talkin' 'bout 'em. So I thought I'd post a handy little primer on the mousegun.

Mousegun. n. A small, concealable handgun typically chambered in a smallish caliber (i.e. less than .4X). Here are some examples of the genre.

Starting with the largest and working down to smallest, we have:

1.

Russian Makarov in .380 ACP (also available in the slightly more powerful 9X18 Makarov chambering). 8+1 rounds of ammunition capability. Weight is approximately 24 ounces, as this is an all-steel firearm. Solid, heavy, and (not) surprisingly accurate, the Makarov is almost too large and heavy to be a true mousegun.

2.

Smith & Wesson J-frame snubbie. This particular model is the 360PD, a scandium-framed monster chambered for the very powerful .357 Magnum caliber. This gun weighs 12 ounces empty, holds 5 rounds, and is not for the faint of wrist. It can fire the less-powerful but still quite adequate .38 special round with significant less "ouchie" factor.

3.

Kel-Tec P3AT in .380 ACP. Weighing in at a scant 8.3 ounces empty (!!!), this polymer-framed mini-mouse carries 6+1 rounds of .380 ACP ammunition as configured by the factory. Magazine extensions exist to bring the round count up to 7+1.

4. Jennings J22 in .22LR. This is the Hyundai of mouseguns, a cheap pistol best left as a curiosity rather than a legitimate defensive firearm. It carries 6+1 rounds of .22LR ammo in a 13-16 ounce package (don't have access to a scale, and that's the weight range I found listed).

5.

Colt Junior in .25 ACP. 7+1 rounds of the diminutive .25 ACP caliber. This was Colt's response to the Gun Control Act of 1968 that banned importation of inexpensive small handguns. It's an update of the 1908 Vest Pocket .25, with an external hammer rather than a striker and a mag release on the grip rather than under it.

6.
FIE Derringer in .38 special. 2 round capacity. No idea what the weight is, but I'd guess around 10-12 ounces empty. Single-action, with firing pin rotating between barrels. I don't recommend Derringers as pocket guns or even as backup guns. With guns like the P3AT (and now P11 and Walther's new PPS) available, it just doesn't make any sense to limit yourself to 2 round capacity.

American Derringers and Bond Arms make a series of über derringers chambered in .45 LC, .410 gauge, 10mm, and up to .44 Magnum (I hear there's even a .45-70...). The .38 special is punishing enough; why on earth one would choose to break one's own wrist is a mystery to me, the self-proclaimed recoil junkie...

7.
Here's the smallest of the group, a North American Arms mini-22 revolver. Weight is a feathery 4.5 ounces empty. Five rounds of .22LR. This is the very outer limit of "the gun you have with you is better than the gun you leave at home" - not only is the gun limited to five rounds of .22 LR, but it's fired single-action (manually cocking the hammer for each shot). Additionally, to reload, the entire cylinder needs to be removed from the gun.

There is a version chambered in .22 Magnum, but this gun is hard enough to handle in .22LR that firing the .22 Magnum just seems like an exercise in pain.

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So there's my Mousegun primer. If your favorite mousegun isn't on the list, don't take it personally - this is all I got. I would have liked to have gotten a Seecamp or North American Arms Guardian and a Colt 1903 in .32 ACP, and of course a Walther PPK to round out the offerings, but this was a "run what you brung" kinda deal...

Baby Vulcan Wish List...

Got to thinking the other day (always a frightening proposition, I know). What boomsticks do I want to get in the near- to not-too-distant future?

I started by leafing through the many circulars from the pushers various and sundry gun warehouses I've bought from in the past.

Handguns:

CZ-82
CZ-70
Nagant Revolver

These three are C&R eligible, which means they can be shipped directly to my door in direct defiance of the Attorney General's "Approved Firearms Roster" (AFR) {spit}, which naturally makes them more appealing. It's also why the CZ-52 was the first firearm I purchased with my C&R license (the CZ-52 is doubly appealing as the 7.62X25mm round can defeat some body armor, making it one of the "armor-piercing" guns the gun-grabbers are always wailing about).

Compact 1911 - ideally S&W scandium-framed SW1911

I want a small, light, 1911-based .45 ACP for concealed carry. Since I live in the accursed Sheeple's Republik of MA and have to contend with the dreaded aforementioned AFR, goodies like Kimber Custom Carry and Springfield EMP are out of the running.

When I visited the S&W plant in April, the gentleman giving the tour alluded to S&W coming out with a smaller version of their SW1911. I'd guess that it would be an Officer's Model-sized gun. Since the Commander sized SW1911 with the scandium frame only weighs 29 ounces, I would wager that the Officer's Model size would be down around 22-24 ounces.

S&W model 642

Because one can never have too many j-frames or pocket guns...

Colt 1908
Colt 1903

Just gotta have these two to "complete" (ha!) my Colt semi-auto C&R fetish collection...

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Shotguns:

Saiga 12

If for no other reason than the PSH that an AK-47 based shotgun entails...

Rem 870 12 gauge

While I like my Win1300, there's more aftermarket parts for the Remington out there. Plus I want one of each major manufacturer's pump-action shotgun...

Baikal 12 gauge side-by-side

Someday I'd like to get into Cowboy action shooting, and these guns (with the exposed hammers, of course) are just plain sweeeeet.

Mossberg 500 20 gauge (youth)

I'll need something for the kids to learn on.

Mossberg 590 12 gauge

Just because everyone needs at least one shotgun with a bayonet...

Lever-action 12 gauge (Winchester 1887 repro)

Yeah, I watched Terminator 2 too many times...

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Centerfire Rifles:

Rem 700

In, what else, the very manly 30-06 chambering. Bonus points for eeeevil "sniper rifle" configuration (all black, bipod, etc.)

M1 Garand

Yes, to my eternal shame I do not (yet) own an M1 Garand. I'm workin' on it...

M1 Carbine

I'm thinking of one of the CMP Inlands. Maybe even pony up the dough for an Underwood.

AR-15 variant

I have neither an M1 Garand nor an AR-15. I do have an AK-47 clone, unfortunately it's not currently working...

German mauser

I have a Turkish mauser, but would like something like a K98 in good condition to round out the mauser family.

Mosin M44

If for no other reason than the fireball... That and it's C&R eligible and costs less than $100. This will be the very first gun I order if Cadillac Deval gets his "one gun a month" passed...

Another SKS

Maybe 2. There are rumors that the supply is going to start drying up. I'd like to get at least one to leave in the cosmo and another to play with...

Dragunov

There's just something about a semi-auto in the manly 7.62X54mmR cartridge...

Winchester or Marlin lever-action .357 Magnum

I love my Marlin 336, but with ammo prices rising ever higher I can't afford to target shoot with the .30-30. I'd like something I can feed the cheap(er) .38 special... Plus it makes a fine companion to the Model 19.

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Rimfire rifles:

Ruger 10/22

Okay. I don't have an M1 Garand. Or an AR-15. Or even a stinkin' 10/22. What am I, some sort of pinko commie?

Henry lever action

I just loves me a lever action rifle. Bonus points for being chambered in the economical .22LR

CZ-452 or other high(er) quality bolt-action

Eventually I'd like to move beyond simple plinking with my .22s...

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So that's my list as it stands right at this second. I have a feeling that 5.7 microseconds after I hit "Publish Post" I'm going to think of 17 other guns I should have added (and reserve the right to edit this list accordingly).

I'm also sure that there are many fine guns not on my list that should be.

So let's hear 'em!

Important Safety Tip

Don't cheat on your wife if she's a state forensic scientist.

LANSING, Mich. - A state forensics scientist who said she tested her husband’s underwear for DNA to determine if he was cheating on her has been fired.

Ann Chamberlain of Okemos testified in a March 7 divorce hearing that she ran the test last September on the underwear of Charles Gordon Jr. Asked by his attorney what she found, she answered: “Another female. It wasn’t me.”

I'll wager that the sting of losing her job is lessened mightily by hoisting Don Juan on his own soiled undergarments...

And You May Say to Yourself, My G-d, What Have I Done?

Got a call last night from the director of the local Boy Scout pack. I signed my son up for Cub Scouts a couple of months ago, and went to the information night at the church to hand in the paperwork and talk to the people in charge.

Apparently I made an impression on someone, because I am now the Assistant Cubmaster for Pack 113. There is a deep disturbance in the force. Obviously there is something horribly wrong with the vetting process, as the idea of all those young minds turned over to me for warping molding is staggering...

Heh. Heh. Heh. heheheheheheheheheheheheheheheh{slap}

Let's see... Cub Scouts... About a million years ago I was a Cub Scout, but a lot has changed since I wore the blue and gold. Bike helmets. No more Elmer Fudd, Yosemite Sam, or Wile E. Coyote. Political correctness. Stifling PSH regarding firearms.

The Promise is still the same:

I promise to do my best
To do my duty to God and my country,
To help other people, and
To obey the Law of the Pack.

My stars. "Duty to G-d"? "and my country"? What kind of organization is this, anyways? Obviously some kind of dangerous subversives.

I'll fit right in...

Heads Up...

Alternate Title: Buy it cheap not as expensive and stack it deep.

From Kevin, we have anecdotal evidence that ammo prices will continue to rise.

Go out. Buy ammo. Buy lots of ammo. Store it safely, and make Baby Vulcan smile.

If you can manage it, buy a whole bunch of ammo a week from today to support the Brady Bunch counter-protest being suggested by David at War on Guns.

Only The Good Die Young

As evidenced by the news that Leona Helmsley just passed away at 87.

What's that I hear? It sounds like... Ding, dong, the witch is dead...

What's the over/under on how long it takes Leona to muscle Satan out of the top spot in hell?

Congratulations!

Tweaker over at Where Sometimes Things Go Bang just completed his CHL course.

Congrats, man! Now you get to buy ~ 2,500 holsters, 2,498 of which will sit in a drawer and collect dust...

Free Wheelin'...

For sale: One pair of training wheels. Heavily used. No longer needed.

The boy is now riding an honest-to-goodness two wheeler. The training wheels that had been raised to their highest setting back in June are now laying on the concrete floor of the garage, plastic and metal flotsam reminiscent of a simpler time.

He has learned how to balance, how to start off and, more importantly, how to stop all on two wheels only. He has realized that dear ol' dad actually knows what he's talking about - I was telling him that he was ready for two wheels back in June when I raised the training wheels up.

He was ready, too - I took the wheels off at the park, after he had taken a short trip around the parking lot. He didn't hesitate for a second, but rather took off like a shot, a young boy reveling in his newfound freedom. I ran beside him as long as I could (thanking Gaia all the while for my new-found energy and slimmer body!), but even at my fastest jog I couldn't keep up with him.

There's a lesson in that, I just know it.

Every once in a while he'd stop, looking over his shoulder at the old man huffing and puffing behind him. He'd wait for me to catch up to him, then pedal off again, wind in his hair (through the helmet, of course) and freedom coursing through his quadriceps. He's on two wheels now. The world is a wide-open bike path ready for him to explore.

Inevitably we will face new challenges: skinned knees, traffic, daredevil instincts, etc. The first thing he asked me this morning was "Can I ride my bike today?" - he's loving the freedom of two wheels. I'm torn, though. Part of me wants to hold him tight, knowing that I can only truly keep him safe if he's home and under my care. The other part wants to set him free to fly, to experience life and learn, live, and be free.

Skinned knees heal. Caged spirits won't.

Be free, my son. I'll run along side you as long as I can, for as long as you'll have me.

Insidious...

Something happened yesterday that really threw me for a loop.

I was one of the guests at a get-together organized by Derek of Northeastshooters (great place for shooters even if you're not in the Northeast, BTW). Jon Green (he of GOAL fame) stopped in to chat with us and shoot the bull, and had some cigars he was kind enough to share with the group.

One of the guys had a stogie in his mouth and was looking for a light. I instinctively reached for the lighter in my right front pocket. Even though I quit smoking on 1/1/01, and haven't carried a lighter since.

Nearly seven years have passed since I last smoked, and yet the instinct to reach for my lighter is still there. And razor-sharp, to boot - I glanced over at Matt, saw he needed a light, and my hand went for the lighter before my brain had a chance to kick in.

What's interesting, though, is two-fold: First, that smoking is so fucking engrained in my psyche that a lapse of well more than half a decade isn't enough to eliminate the habits.

Secondly, the "training" - while I never actually trained to go for my lighter, it was a purely muscle-driven reflex to access it. Which tells me that I need to keep training different methods of drawing from concealment until the action becomes just as engrained.

If I can draw a concealed firearm half as quickly as I went for the lighter that was no longer there, I feel good about my chances of surviving a gunfight...

Friday!!!

Since today is the 11^th anniversary of the day I got the ball-and-chain got married, what else could I showcase better than some 1911s?

One stainless, one parkerized, and one blue steel. Now that's diversity for ya...

And Speaking of Being a Gun Nut...

...Might as well include the context. Ahab put up a post detailing how much ammo he keeps on hand. He has a "system" for having ammo on hand based on when he goes shooting. An admirable system, indeed.

I have a system, too. I buy at least one box of ammo every single time I walk into a store that sells ammo. Now, it might just be a bulk pack of .22LR, but I get something every single time.

I have at least 500 - 1000 rounds for anything that I shoot more than once a year (which, sadly, isn't very much). .38 special, 9mm, .357 Magnum, .40 S&W, .45 ACP, 7.62X39mm, and 12 gauge are all PHD'd (Piled High & Deep). .22LR, well, let's just leave it that I would honestly have to work at it to even make a dent in my .22LR stockpile. All I'll say is that all MGLs are followed with regard to how much one is allowed to store in one's domicile... ;)

Why? Because I don't put it past the filthy rat-bastard gun-grabbers to go after ammo rather than the guns. And with ammo prices rising, along with rumors of "microstamping" nonsense, it doesn't bode well.

Plus I need brass for when I FINALLY start reloading...

You Might Be a Gun Nut If...

...you post comments like

1600 rounds? I have more than that in my closet.

around the intarweb...

Pockets

On our last vacation to the great White Mountains, my son came up to me, beaming with pride, and told me that he'd found a penny on the ground (he LOVES finding money; I fear I may have a future accountant on my hands here...) :)

He then asked me to hold it for him, because his shorts didn't have any pockets. I looked, and sure enough they didn't. Doing laundry after vacation, I was folding his shorts and noticed that he had many pairs of pants and shorts that didn't have pockets.

No pockets. I couldn't conceive of wearing pants that didn't have pockets. Where else would I put all my stuff?

*Wallet
*Keys
*Gerber Paraframe
*P3AT
*Spare mag
*Cell phone

And that's on a light day...

I starting thinking about it... How innocent is that, that my son doesn't have to carry any of the gear that one picks up through life? He doesn't have to carry a wallet, because daddy pays for what he needs. If he gets hurt and needs to show insurance, that's covered too. He has no need for ID, nor credit cards, nor money. He doesn't have to carry keys, as he has no car to drive and is always with us when he's out of the house. No cell phone yet (and he will NOT be getting one in the foreseeable future, either - I absolutely DETEST seeing an 8 year old with a fucking cell phone glued to their ear).

And the defensive items. Never mind the idiotic "Zero Tolerance" bullshit the schools foist upon our kids where they can be expelled for carrying a tiny Swiss Army knife for a moment, my son doesn't have to worry about predators.

Because that's my job. And it's one I take very seriously. Why? Because I'm the dad. That's what we do.

Holy Cow It's a RIP!

Alternate title: Yes, I'm still going to hell, only now much faster...

Phil Rizzuto has passed away. The man who made the phrase, "Holy Cow it's a hit!" a part of the baseball lexicon has shuffled off this mortal coil. Rest in Peace, Phil. You're one Yankee I couldn't hate.

Even taking those insipid "Money Store" commercials into account...

How Much is Too Much?

Chris over at The Anarchangel has a good post up about reloads and back-up guns (commonly abbreviated BUG).

It got me to thinking about what I carry. My routine is roughly decided by the season - in late fall/winter/early spring, I'm wearing heavier clothes offering better concealment, so my choices aren't as limited. Mainly, I carry either my SW99 compact 9mm (10+1 rounds) with one backup magazine (13 rounds) or the full sized .40 S&W SW99 (10+1) with one backup magazine (10). I hope to add a Commander-sized 1911, probably a S&W SW1911 with the scandium frame, in the future for 8+1 and 8 rounds backup. So we're talking a minimum of 17 rounds of .45 ACP and a maximum of 24 rounds of 9mm +P.

In late spring/summer/early fall, concealment is more problematic. Wearing a long sweater in July is going to attract attention, and not the kind you want. So it's either the S&W 360 PD .357 Magnum (5 rounds) with one Bianchi speed strip (6), the S&W model 38 .38 special (5 rounds) and one Bianchi speed strip (6), or the Kel Tec P3AT .380 ACP (6+1) with one backup mag (7). Minimum of 11 rounds of .38 special, maximum of 14 rounds of .380 ACP.

Which, of course, leads to an interesting conundrum: If 11 rounds of .38 special is sufficient ammunition for my personal protection in the summer time, why isn't 11 rounds of 9mm +P sufficient in the winter? Or 11 rounds of .40 S&W, for that matter? Why do I carry a backup magazine in the winter, when my winter carry gun holds more than my summer carry gun?

Partly it's for consistency's sake - I don't want to get out of the habit of carrying a spare magazine or reloads. The surest way to make sure I've got everything I need is to carry it all the time. Mostly, though, it's a compromise for the summer - I'd prefer to carry more rounds in the summer, but it's just not practical.

And, for the record, cargo pants completely and totally rock for carrying extra gear. Here's hoping they never go out of style... :)

What's the "ideal" setup? What you're most comfortable with, and what you will reliably carry with you the majority of the time. An old S&W j-frame tossed into a pocket holster with no extra ammo beats having a high-end shoulder holster for a 1911 and two extra magazines that you don't bring with you. Obey rule #1 of gunfighting - have a gun. Sure, rule #2 is important as well (bring enough gun), but you can't follow rule 2 without following rule 1.

I won't get into the whole "a .22 in the pocket beats a .44 in the safe" argument, though. It's been done enough... ;)

I'm Going to Hell for This One...

Merv Griffin has passed away. Rest in peace, Merv. I couldn't help myself but think:

When he arrived at the Pearly Gates, Saint Peter gave him a BLANK...

(some will get it and laugh uproariously, most will wonder what kind of of drugs I'm on...)

Now with 15% More Snark...

Seen over at Uncle's, which has turned into some variant hive-collective while Unc takes a holiday, a post regarding the mindset of the anti's:

You know how some anti-gun types seem to think guns are sentient beings, capable of actions all on their own?

Maybe we should think that way too, that way guns would be considered innocent until proven guilty.

Wonder what a jury of its peers would look like?

Well, I just happen to have a snapshot of the potential jury pool:


Heh... Non-Friday gun pr0n...

On Getting Old...

Ambulance Driver has (yet another) excellent piece about one of life's milestones regarding one's progeny. In his case, there's more to the story, but the sentiment is universal - how a parent deals with entrusting the most precious thing in the world to the edumacational system.

My son will be starting first grade two weeks from tomorrow. First Grade. All day long. He'll take the bus to and from school with "the big kids". He'll eat lunch in the cafeteria. He'll have to use the common bathroom. This is the big leagues now...

A week later, my daughter will be starting her second year of pre-school (in MA, most pre-schools accept kids at age 3. It's really just extended playtime, but it's a good start IMHO). She'll be in for more of an adjustment, as Mrs. G. is changing to a day position at her job (she was second shift) and my daughter will be in pre-school until noon and then "after care" until 3. She'll be full-day as well.

It seems like just yesterday we were bringing her home from the hospital, and last week when we brought my son home. And yet, here we are, putting them on a bus or dropping them off, entrusting complete strangers to care for them and yes, maybe even teach them something.

I'm sure it will seem like another week passes and I'll be handing over the car keys...

New Blogs! New Blogs! Party Time! Excellent!

Cruising through the sitemeter stats, I've found a couple of blogs that have been crazy kind enough to link to my insane scribblings. So please give a warm MArooned welcome to JD at Tekmage's Blog and Mark at A Day in the Life of a Talk Radio Blogger. Talk radio, eh? I've always thought that I had a voice for radio. Wait, that was a face for radio...

Also, please be on your best behavior and visit a dear friend of mine, Betty Breaks Free. She's a damn good writer - I'd say better than me, but that's damning with faint praise indeed - and well worth a look-see. She's going through a rough spell right now, so words of encouragement and niceness are good.

And once more, for good measure: Folks, I run a reciprocal blogroll here at MArooned. If you decide, for whatever reason (I'm guessing temporary insanity), to add me to your blog, let me know...

Why Don't Literalists Write Power Ballads?

A. Because "There's a hole in my heart that can only be filled by emergency invasive cardiac surgery" never would have cracked the Top Ten...

(This foray into "Weird shit that crosses Jay's mind" brought to you courtesy of "Hair Nation" on satellite radio)

FRIIIIDAY!!!

Yes, it's finally Friday, which means it's time for some gratuitous gun pr0n...

Today's pick is my other venerable former communist bloc pistol, my CZ-52 (the other being the Makarov from a few weeks back). Here she is in all her Warsaw Pact glory:

I was inspired to post this picture as a result of commenting on a post at Better and Better. Matt G (no relation) had posted a cautionary tale of what can happen when one puts too much in one's pockets. He had some loose .357 Sig rounds and added a couple batteries and very narrowly averted catastrophe (or unintentional hilarity, depending on whose pockets they were...) :)

I saw the .357 Sig rounds, and for a brief second found myself wondering just where Matt found jacketed hollowpoints in 7.62X25mm. Then it dawned on me that it was the more common (especially for law enforcement) .357 Sig...

Thanks for the inspiration, Matt!

Too Good to Not Blog...

I am the #1 Google hit for "how to stop the urge to kill"...

Yay me!

That is all...

"The Other Guy"...

Alternate title: Here's yet another foray into the "strange shit Jay thinks about"...

Wouldn't it suck to be "the other guy"? You all know who I'm talking about - think about "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure". One actor was Keanu Reeves. Went on to have a reasonable acting career, all snark about his acting "talent" (or total lack thereof) notwithstanding.

But what about "the other guy"? A look at his IMDB entry shows a decided lack of acting after the Bill & Ted series.

---

Or, to take an example from television, let's look at the show "Bosom Buddies". Tom Hanks goes on to become a certified mega star. "A League of their Own". "Appollo 13". "Saving Private Ryan". "Big".

"The other guy"? I think his next and only role after "Bosom Buddies" was playing the yuppie boyfriend on "Newhart"...

---

So is this phenomenon limited only to Hollywood? Well, not really. Take the pop group "Wham!" from the '80s. George Michael went on to have a pretty successful solo career (as long as he stayed out of men's rooms...), but "the other guy", well, not so much.

So, today we salute you, Mr. "the other guy". You may not find fame the way your co-star did, but you are not forgotten...

Confession is Good for the Soul...

Wherein Jay reveals his deep, dark secret: I don't care for organized sports. Never have. A lot of it comes from having been a basketball player trapped in a football player's body when I was a young man. I never had the hand-eye coordination for baseball, nor the inclination for losing teeth prerequisite for hockey, so football and basketball were my options.

I loved basketball, both as a player and as a spectator. Unfortunately, the freak gene in my family that produced a 6' 5" tall uncle missed me, and at 6' tall, ~ 220 pounds in high school I was constantly pegged for a football player. But oh, how I longed to play basketball... Sure, I played intramural and all, but it's not the same. And I grew to hate football, because I would inevitably be asked what position I played.

So... cut to my adult years. I don't *do* sports. I don't root for teams. I don't sit on the couch watching games. I might tune in if the Pats or Sox are in the playoffs, but even then it's just background noise (heresy, I know, and I hope Ahab doesn't excommunicate me forthwith...).

Hell, I'm as crazy motorhead as they come and I can't stand NASCAR.

So... there's my confession. "My name is Jay, and I am an organized-sports-phobe"...

Okay, I Must Have Missed the Memo...

...the one about the impending Rapture, that is...

What the heck is going on with people searching for "Top ___ Things To Do Before I Die"??? Looking at my referral logs, there's a good half-dozen or so hits from various searches about some variation on that string (I posted a Top Ten list last month).

Did I miss something? Is there a comet on the way? 'Cuz if there is, my first stop on the way home is gonna be for a carton of Camels, a bottle of Southern Comfort, and one of everything at the McDonald's drive-thru...

;)

Yawn...

So Barry finally gets his asterisk, eh? Whoop-dee-freakin' doo...

Sorry, that's about all the enthusiasm I can muster for a 'roid head "breaking" a record that has stood for 33 years, a record that was set before performance-enhancing drugs made long-ball hitting easier.

Just can't get excited, sorry... Might as well build a baseball chucking trebuchet and hurl 800 balls with it and call that the record...

Random Thought of the Day™

What, exactly, is involved in the process of turning a nugget of information into a pearl of wisdom? Is there an SOP? Do we have GMP on this? Need ETA on the TAT ASAP.

Run To The Hills...

Alternate title: Hey, old Iron Maiden tunes seemed less trite than a beer jingle, okay?

As I mentioned in previous posts, as part of last week's vacation we drove up Mount Washington, the highest peak in the northeastern United States. This was the first time up Mount Washington for my wife and kids, and my third trip up the mountain. This is the first time I've been the driver, though. Interestingly enough, I rode up the mountain in the back of a van for both previous outings.

Here's the view from the ground (click all pictures for full size):

.

Just... Wow.

This is about halfway up, taking a rest to let the truck cool down (looking at the Mt. Washington Auto Road website I see that, technically, we shouldn't have been allowed to go up at all given the wheelbase of my truck. Oopsie):



And, most spectacular of all, the view from the top:



Even better than the view, though, was hearing my son tell his friends at the campground that he had lunch "on the top of the mountain"! Just too cool...

Dorkalicious...

Sometimes I am such a dork I amaze even myself.

In the course of my pencil-pushing, I happened across the number 1339.

Which immediately sent me into a fit of muted laughter, as I dorked to myself, "Oh, that's the next-door neighbor of 'l33t'..."

Run For It...

I tried something new over this vacation. No, it wasn't some new SuperFunMegaLand with the kids. It wasn't a new electronic gizmo for making and/or keeping vacation memories.

I went jogging.

I've been exercising regularly for 8 months now as part of my new-and-improved lifestyle. I spent last year losing weight; I am spending this year (and many thereafter, hopefully) keeping it off and molding my body into something less reminiscent of the Stay-Puft Marshmellow Man. So even on vacation I try to fit in a block of honest-to-goodness exercise (as opposed to calling the normal routine of chasing after the kids my exercise).

This past trip, I took an hour+ morning powerwalk each day, covering 4-5 miles of hilly terrain. One thing I've noticed about walking outdoors (as opposed to the treadmill) is that it's an inferior exercise - I don't even break a sweat. I tend to amble rather than power-walk, as a general course, so if I don't force myself to keep up a steady, fast pace, I wind up shuffling along.

This generally defeats the purpose of walking for exercise, as a rule...

So, for the first time since, oh, high school gym class, I ran. It was a slow(ish) jog; I'm certain that people that run regularly would have laughed like tickled hermits at my pathetic pace and poor form. But I was jogging. Me! Who used to scoff at the joggers on the street, sneering all the while. Who used to delight in Dennis Leary's riff on Jim Fixx, the reformed smoker and fatass-turned jogging guru who dropped dead of a massive heart attack while jogging. Who used to quip that "I only run if something's chasing me, and how fast I run depends on how large the thing chasing me is".

And the real kicker? I liked it. In a cruel and bizarre twist of fate, I find that I enjoy running. Now, I could only do it in smaller doses - I noticed my ankles starting to bother me after a mile or so, and there is a history of bad knees in my family - but still... Me. Jogging.

I half-expected to see airborne porcines...

Life Intrudes...

Remind me to never, ever take another vacation...

More later. Honest. Including the pics from the top of New England I mentioned earlier...

I'm Baaaack!

Okay... Taking a breather from unloading the RV...

In a nutshell, had a fantastic time. Campground was really nice, good location, but sadly had a woefully inadequate electrical system that meant we couldn't use our air conditioner.

During the hottest week of the year.

On the plus side, though, we had absolutely phenomenal weather, with ZERO rain. This is a first for us, for any vacation, but especially for camping.

More later, with pics from the top of New England...