A Very American Christmas
First of all, a very happy holidays to you and yours.
Now, Renee (my fiance, for those who don’t know) and I started off our holidays by heading out to see her family in Baltimore. we had crab cakes, drinks, and a chance to see Gus Van Sant’s great new film “Milk”. Then it was off to North Carolina to see my family in Wilmington.
Growing up in Upstate New York, I never had much of an interest in firearms. My father had a shotgun that he showed me how to use once, but after that I never pursued any kind of passion or interest in them. I was busy with art and music, and the growth and development of a rather dull social life.
Not too long ago, I was invited to a firing range in the city. One of Renee’s friends from work had a membership, and she invited us to go along and fire some .22 rifles and see if we liked it.
And boy, did we.
Combining this with my interest (addiction) to online gaming, I have since grown fond of guns, and am constantly looking to shoot new and interesting ones. While in Oklahoma City in the summer, we had the opportunity to fire a .9mm Beretta, a .357 Magnum, and an A1 Springfield. The Beretta is a military issue automatic pistol, the Magnum a sizeable revolver (it can put a hole in an engine block, btw), and the Springfield is a sniper rifle from the days of WWII. Great stuff, McGruff.
So, on Dec. 24th, Renee and I went to a shooting range here in Wilmington. The place was a tad hard to find, but when we did, we were invited to take a look at a variety of rifles and handguns. We had a choice of Glocks, Smith & Wesson’s, rifles of a type both antique and military… and then there was my Baby.
My Baby is a gun I have wanted to fire for some time. It is a Belgium-made PS-90 (pictured above). Classified as a ‘personal defense weapon’, the ‘90 is a top fed semi-automatic (this one was, they can go full-auto) rifle, ambidextrous (the discharged shells come out of the bottom of the gun, God Bless It), and can feature a liquid-level balanced holographic sight through it’s scope.
I took one look at this thing and knew that it was the one for me. The young man who helped us was ex-military, and resisted my urgent pleas to load the magazine because “you’d need a bit more training to figure out how to do it”.
Taking it out to the range, it couldn’t have weighed more than five pounds. The kickback, however, was enough to bruise my shoulder and not go with another box of ammo. That being said, almost all of my shots were fatal for center-mass, and I could draw a line with bullets up the throat of the target.
I loved it. And with it, I now love the world.
So, from a coastal town in the Southern US, I wish you all once again the Happiest of Holidays. God knows Mine is.