Range Fire, II...

Well, a little time has passed since our first range fire trip, and it was time to get back to it.  So I called Warren and my brother, Walt, to see if they were ready to try again.  Sure enough, they were set to test their skills again.  Actually, if the truth be told, it was such a crummy day they both may have just wanted to get out of the house for a while.  No matter -- a trip to the range is worth it on its own merits.

I must say, both of them improved quite a bit. Warren really didn't shoot with his eyes closed.  He's just one of those people who always has their eyes closed when they get their picture taken.

When we went this time, he said he wanted to use the smaller target because he concentrates more.  OK.  Well, it seemed to work because he managed to put a bunch of rounds in the center of the target.  The picture to the right shows his shot groups for two different tries.  The black patches on the target were the first ("warm-up") rounds, and the uncovered ones (the pink ones) were from the second attempt.

Warren is using a .40 cal. pistol (1911 model) that he picked up. I asked him why he carried a .40 cal. and he said it's because they don't make a .41 cal.  Good answer.  Good answer.

It seems to fit his hand real well and he is pretty much comfortable with its firing mechanics and kick.  Quite frankly, for a WWII Vet (almost 90 yrs. old), I am impressed he is able to fire any sort of gun.

Now we turn our attention to my brother.  If you remember the last time I wrote about his range fire, I said it was a good thing he was a cook in the Army.  At least he could throw a spoon at the enemy and maybe do more damage.

Well, he certainly improved over the last time.  Check out these pictures. 

He also decided to use the smaller target.  Maybe Warren has something there.  Anyhow, he did pretty well on his "warm-up" shots considering he was using a rented pistol from the range. 

You can see (to the right)  his shot group was climbing a bit to the right each time, which was just from pulling the trigger a pit to the right each time he fired.  That is easily corrected and shouldn't happen once he gets used to the trigger pull.

The bottom picture shows that he started to get comfortable with that rented weapon and put several in the center ring.  Maybe he could be considered for a reenlistment, s'pose? 

So that pretty much wraps up another morning at the range.  Again, I know this probably isn't for everyone, but so be it. 

I recently saw an article in our rural electric co-op magazine that there is a local group that has started a clay pigeon shooting club for high school students.  They talk about the confidence and excitement it has generated in the students who belong.  It also talks about the respect the young people have for shotguns, their sport, and the older people who serve as their mentors.  Seems like a great success all around.  I have never participated in clay pigeon shooting.  Might have to make some contacts and if this is something I might be able to try.  Could be embarrassing at first, but what the heck.  Maybe I'll take a spoon along, just in case!! 

If guns cause crime, then matches cause arson.

If guns cause crimes, then matches cause arson. 

If guns cause crime, then matches cause arson.

 Hooah

Boy are we getting close...

There are lots of things a mid-winter thaw and a handful of sunny days with temps in the 50-60 range will bring to mind -- like our spring golf trip, riding my bike, taking a vacation, boating on Lake Loramie, and fishing.

But this is Ohio, and in the next couple of days we'll get cold rain and some snow.  So, other than planning, not much of these things are going to take place.  I know people fish in winter, but not me. Tried riding my bike in snow once.  That didn't work very well at all -- a couple of times in the ditch told me to try something else.  The boat is still covered and sitting in the driveway, and is likely to have snow piled around it for a while yet.  So, planning is the extent of my activities for now.

I went out to the pond the other day and the water looks really clear.  No floaters, so that is good. While I was out there, I dropped in the barn and checked on the fishing poles and gear.  Things looked in order, so I thought I would get down the fly rods and "stuff" to clean it and inspect the lines.  Looked pretty good.

If you enlarge the photo, you'll see that I use lots of dry flies.  I really like fishing for pan fish in local ponds and lakes walking around, flicking that little bug around docks and weedbeds to see if I can entice a fish to take the bait.

One of the reels I plan to try this year is the old automatic reel (center).  This is an old Montgomery Ward offering (if you don't know what Montgomery Ward, or "Monkey Ward" as we in Southeastern Ohio used to call it, was ask your parents or grandparents.).  This reel cost me all of $2.95 at a flea market in Nelsonville, OH and works well. Should be fun.

Another thing I had to check was to see if I still had good sunglasses -- the kind with magnifiers in the bottom of the lenses.  These really come in handy when tying flies to the line while standing in a river or stream.

Do I have any unfulfilled fishing dreams?  Yep. I am still planning to try my luck at some Montana river -- at least it's on my bucket list.  That's kind of like the Holy Grail of fly fishing and usually requires hiring a professional guide for a couple of days.  This is another thing I am not really all that good at, but one that I have fun doing so maybe the expense of a guide will be worth it.

This isn't the only kind of fishing I like to do and have lots of hours and fun bait casting for bass, crappies and other fish.  In fact, my brother-in-law, Chuck, and I are in the tentative stages of planning a fishing (and maybe golfing) trip to the Kentucky Lake area.  We call this "Bass-n-Bogies."

OK.  So for now, I'm off to take another dose of cough medicine and listen to the OU Bobcats take on Bowling Green in basketball.  I've read all the fishing books I stockpiled last fall, and now I plan to dive into a couple of Jeff Shaara novels.  These should get me through this next spell of cold and snow.

All the romance of trout fishing exists in the mind of the angler and is in no way shared by the fish.  (Harold F. Blaisdell)

Hooah

Hard to believe it's been that long...

About a month ago, one of my high school classmates contacted me regarding our high school class's upcoming 50th reunion scheduled for later this summer.  I would suspect that for those of you who have also lived long enough to experience this, it is pretty hard to believe that we would qualify for a 50th anything, let alone a high school graduation.  That means our late 60s are all over us like an early morning fog -- hopefully not anything serious enough to be really a hazard, but more of a nuisance that keeps you from your early tee time .

My wife, who is scheduled for her 50th this summer, is also facing the prospect of relying very heavily on those little sticky name tags to keep us from being embarrassed at how we could possibly forget the names of so many of our friends from the past -- friends with whom we shared so many monumentally earth-shaking secrets, sealed with a pinky swear.

So I know that's gonna happen.  Doesn't mean I have to like it, but it's gonna happen. Sometimes I can't even remember the names of people I met just yesterday.  And if the truth be known, the guy who invented those little sticky name tags was probably facing his 50th high school reunion when he came up with this great idea.

So, setting that inevitable embarrassment aside for now, there are a couple of other things I thought about, things that could also be interesting.  I used to play athletics back in school.  Even though I received several varsity letters back then, I was not really very good at any of them. 

I played football, starting out as an offensive guard.  But, at 5"10"/145#, this didn't look very promising.  During my sophomore year, I discovered I could catch the ball reasonably well if it was thrown somewhere in the vicinity of my hands.  So I was moved to the end of the line (don't know if that was the coach's way of telling me that I was going from the center of the action to the end of the line, which was only one step from the bench).  And while I was there, I became a defensive end too.  The defensive position wasn't too bad --  just hold my position and don't let anyone around me.  Didn't have to run too far and I could get in the way of a running back until the linebackers would get there to bail me out.  Fulfilling my duties as a receiver turned out to be more of a challenge.  I was not fast, and didn't know how to get into the open very well.  When I would run a pattern, if the wind was blowing really hard, I spent a lot of time running in one spot (remember -- 5'10"/145#).  But I did have some good moments and our team was really short on numbers and everyone else was pretty much the same size as me (except the two big tackles we had) so I got to play quite a bit.

I also played baseball and golf.  Well, sorta, because at our high school, we only had 5 guys who knew anything about golf, and all of them also played baseball.  Back in those days, baseball and golf were both spring sports, so it was worked out that these five guys would play baseball on Tuesday and Thursday and Saturday, and play golf on Monday, Wednesday, and maybe on Friday.  Not a lot of time for any practices once the seasons started, so our golf swings really looked like batting practice, and the scores were usually around bogey levels.

But none of this is in any way important now, except that we were on a team, with our classmates, having fun, and developing relationships that are still alive today.  I hate to admit that I don't see many or any of them except for the reunions.  Some have died.  And I don't think any of us would still come in at our old playing weight. 

Having spent 30 years of my life as an educator, I am certainly glad that our old high school teachers won't be allowed out of the "home" to come see what a collection we turned out to be.  I, for one, certainly wouldn't want to be the cause of any heart failures once they learned how I (or others, too) turned out. Unless they had a lot more insight into us than I suspect, I am sure they never would have guessed our outcomes.  I would hope, if they were to come for the evening, they would be gracious enough to give us credit for slugging it out over the years, fighting the good fight,  Each in our own way, each with our own demons, and with a lot of help from others, we made something of ourselves.  In some small measure, each might be a credible reflection on their efforts.  One thing I learned over the years is not to be too hard on oneself.  There are plenty of people in line waiting to do that for you. 

I have one small suggestion that I might bring up to our "committee" when we get together this summer -- Let's have our 60th reunion next year.  I know Sam Hall would be saying right now that that boy didn't learn his counting in my class, but here's the logic.  We have lost a few along the way getting to this 50th reunion.  The next big one would be 10 years from now and who knows how many we would lose by then.  So -- they're our reunions, we can call them anything we want.  We can call the one two years from now the 70th if we want.  Might be kinda nice to say I made it to my 70th high school reunion.

Oh yeah, one other thing that reunions are known for -- finding out if others in the class were successful in life.  I think I will carry a little card with me to the reunion, one that outlines all of the successes one can be proud of in life (other than a good marriage, good children and grandchildren and good health).  We'll measure from here:

SUCCESS:
...at age 4, SUCCESS is not peeing your pants.

...at age 12, SUCCESS is having friends.

...at age 16, SUCCESS is having a driver's license.

...at age 35, SUCCESS is having money.

...at age 50, SUCCESS is having money.

...at age 70, SUCCESS is having a driver's license.

...at age 75, SUCCESS is having friends.

...at age 80, SUCCESS is not peeing your pants.

Should be a fun time.  I'm actually looking forward to it. And when the evening is over, I hope my classmates read the backside of the card...

May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back,
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields and,
Until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Hooah

A day at the range...

A couple of weeks ago, I took two of my friends to a local firing range.  They had both just recently obtained new hand guns and wanted a warm place to try them out.  That was back in January when the temps were down in the single figures with constant wind chills near 5 degrees.  It costs $14 per hour at the range, but it is warm in there and the target systems are pretty good.

The first guy I took was my friend, "W".  He is a WWII Veteran who will turn 90 in a few months.  Yep -- he is that old and still handles himself pretty well and knows his way around guns and firing.  He just got a new .22 mag. pistol.  It was very nice, very clean.  He got his target set at 20 feet and proceeded to put six rounds in the "belly" area of the target.  He was not happy with the pattern, said it was a bit sloppy.  The problem was, he forgot his box of ammo and they didn't have any .22 ammo out at the counter so that ended his shooting with that gun.  That stuff is pretty hard to come by right now.  Seems everyone is buying small caliber hand guns and ammo production is not keeping up with demand.  I think "W"and I will have to talk to the government about all of this -- must be a hold up somewhere.(Hmmmmm).

So, anyway, when "W" was finished with his pistol, I asked him if he might want to shoot my 9mm.  I told him the .45 cal. might be too much for him with his bad shoulder, but I thought he could handle the smaller 9mm.  He has one of these so he thought he might be able to shoot it pretty well.  I don't think I wanted to question his abilities -- he used to be a real fine shooter, and I have no reason to doubt him after the display he put up with his little .22 (first time he ever fired it). I don't hold his age against him when it comes to shooting, and he doesn't hold mine against me when it comes to missing (sorry, Mr. Reagan).

Below is a picture of "W" on the firing line.  The target on the right is the shot group with the 9mm. It is a bit hard to see, but if you look down around the belly, you'll see five holes.  He had six rounds, and I told him to try to put the last one in the yellow circle in the head.  Seems he was a bit low, but probably would have taken out a couple of teeth on the bad guy.

When we were done firing the 9mm., he just looked at me and said that was not too bad for the first time with this gun.  But in the next breath, he said that wasn't a very good grouping and he would do better the next time.  I am sure he will.

 

The other gentleman I took, about a week later, is a good friend of mine.  He's a Vietnam Vet.  "B" is taking classes to get his permit so he wanted to get in some practice.  He, too, just bought a new "piece."  He told me that the first time he fired his, he couldn't come close to hitting anything.  He said he never fired anything this small before. This time, however, he did pretty well.  This is a picture of one of his targets, and it has quite a number of holes all over the place.  But that is because we were moving the aiming point all over the place, trying to get some good shot groupings.  Besides, the targets are about $1 each so no sense in getting a new one after just a couple of rounds.  He knew what he was doing. 

 

You know, there are lots of things people do around here in the winter to pass time.  Some go to movies in the afternoon, some take power walks at the local indoor mall, and some read.  I like to go to firing ranges, and I like to take some of my friends with me.  It gets all of us out of the house, doing something different.  For some it satisfies that primeval desire that men have to still shoot things and kinda lets them think they are living just on the edge of the blade again.  Yeah.  OK.  maybe that's a bit over the top.  But there's just something about doing Colt or Remington surgery on a stationary target that is not firing back at you, running toward you with a knife, or otherwise threatening to make your life a whole lot shorter, followed by you admiring your handiwork with the sounds of Don Johnson's "Miami Vice" theme song playing over the range's stereo.  Man it doesn't get any better than that.

Also, did I mention that I/we get to have all this fun in a heated indoor range?  I got a note from my old Army and golfing buddy, Dave,  when I wrote my last range article.  He reminded me how much "fun" it was to go to the range in the rain, the snow, the sleet and ice.  Yeah, Dave, that was fun.  I just wish that you, as our supply sergeant, could have arranged for the stereo just once.

Gun control is a big hot button political item right now.  Fall behind a bit in your campaign and you have already gone through the usual stuff ("I'm more conservative/liberal than you" or "I did not send classified stuff on it" or "I am more in favor of immigration reform than all of you put together." and so on, and so on...) and I can guarantee that it won't be long before "that gon question" (as some of my neighbors say it) hits the teleprompter. It gets pretty near impossible to hold a civil conversation with some people on this issue, so I just ignore them.  

A lot of my friends like "W" and "B" have guns.  They're pretty good people.  I think I'll use them as my measuring stick.  As long as they are OK with theirs, I think there will be hope for all of us.

 If guns cause crimes, then all of mine are defective. (Anon)

 

Hooah

Well, it worked the first time...

About this time last year, I was out cutting holes in the ice on the pond to try to make sure oxygen could get into the water and carbon dioxide could escape.  There were quite a few times I would go out on the ice, at least 8" thick at the time, and fire up the chain saw in order to get the holes going.  This picture brings back old memories.

If you live around here, you know we haven't had anything close to the weather conditions shown in this picture so far this winter.  And I know I am probably jinxing things, but it won't be the first time for that.

So, this morning when I got up, I saw the pond was frozen over.  We had a whole day yesterday with temperatures around 24 degrees, so I wasn't surprised.  But it was bright and sunny so I thought maybe this would take care of itself.  By mid-afternoon, however, my curiosity got the best of me and I wanted to test the sales line the pond aerator guy told me.  He said that when the pond got frozen over, all I had to do was go turn on the pump and the aerator would open up a hole in the ice for me.

I understand the theory behind it -- the warmer (?) water from the bottom of the pond, mixed with the warmer air produced by the pump, would generate a warm stream of water and bubbles and it would thaw the ice from below and open the hole.  Guess what -- it did just what it was supposed to do, and it only took 10-15 minutes.  Now, again, this was only about a half inch of ice so the jury is still out.  But, if this works, I think the chain saw will stay in the basement this winter.  I'll let you know.  And I think the key will be keeping up with the ice, not letting it get so thick.

In seed-time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy... (William Blake)... and wait for the spring thaw and theorize how much bigger our fish will be.(me)

Hooah

Christmas 2015, Part 1 of 3...

Well, we started our Christmas season with the Michael W. Smith concert in Cincinnati and that gave us one day to rest up and then we would be off to Brooklyn to spend time with D,D,Q,H & V.  Really looking forward to it.  Not only do we get to celebrate Christmas with them, we get to see Quinn's school's Christmas show and we get to celebrate Doug's birthday.


Normally when we drive to Brooklyn, we stop in PA and spend the night in Bethlehem.  Boy what a fitting place to spend the night.  So, we arrived on Friday.  And before I get into telling about the weekend, let me first say that the State of NY gets a boatload of "attaboys" for getting the highway completed through Staten Island. Boy does that make a huge difference.

The choir show was pretty good.  Lots of parents and little kids in the audience. The school doesn't have an auditorium so they use their church for things like this.  It was decorated nicely and added lots of atmosphere to the Christmas songs and stories.

What better way to spend a Christmas than with your grand kids.  Quinn showed us their Advent calendar and told us what it signified.  He and Heath also showed us their tree and the ornaments they made for it. I think Vivian wanted to tell us about her role in all of this, but she was having too much fun flashing that big smile of hers and those bright eyes.  That was pretty much all she had to do while we were there to get our attention.  And it worked every time.

It was really fun watching the youngsters opening their presents.  Things haven't really changed a lot from the times of my childhood.  Paper goes flying every which way, and mom and dad have to keep track of things for them so nothing gets lost or put in the trash bag by mistake.  And no phrase is more important to note prior to even wrapping the gifts is -- "batteries not included."  The best way to shut down the moment is not having batteries for something.  (It also helps to have the correct size, Grandpa!)

Some of the gifts came without batteries being required.  Grandma got both of the boys puppets.  She has been a ventriloquist for many years and showed them some of her puppets when they were here this past summer.  They both really liked them, so Grandma got them each one.  Quinn got a lion, Heath a turtle.  These only require some imagination to make them work and Quinn jumped right on that idea.  He was having lots of fun with his.

The weather was really nice while we were there.  Really unusual for Christmas time.  We were able to take some walks and we took Heath up to the church courtyard to play some hide and seek. He took his glider and we had a good time outdoors too.

And did I mention that Miss Vivian was the hit of the show when she broke out that smile ?  I would often wonder what the kids were thinking when they would stare at the tree, or the decorations or just smile at us.  I know for certain that when I was there age, there was nothing going on between these ears, and I probably wouldn't have to work too hard to come up with an unlimited list of those who would attest to that fact.  But when I look at these little ones, I know that they are WAY beyond that, way into deeper things that I ever imagined at their age.  Good for them.  Keep going.

One night, we went out to look at the Christmas decorations.  Doug took us to a place to see lights that put Clark Griswold to shame. They were unbelievable.  I noticed TV news trucks there and sure enough, there wea a segment on the NBC nightly news a couple of days later about these lights.

 Of course, a celebration of any kind wouldn't be complete without some silliness.  We played a game of 20 questions one afternoon and these pictures came out of that.  Lots of fun.

What a great time we had.  We left on Monday and set out for Carlisle for the evening.  This normally 3-hour drive took 5.  The next morning we finished the trip home.  Again, this was a long day of driving in the rain and heavy fog, accidents, and sitting in traffic.  This leg is normally 6 hours depending on stops and traffic.  However, this time it took about 9 hours.  Oh well, it was worth it.  D,D,Q,H and V were going to spend their first Christmas at home and then they were off to NC to spend time with Danika's parents and some of the rest of the family.  I hope their trip is smoother than our drive.  The I-95 corridor can be a real bear normally, let alone during a holiday. 

May Peace be your gift at Christmas and your blessing all year through!  

Hooah

Christmas 2015, Part 2 of 3...

On Christmas day, we all headed up to Paulding to Luke and Linda's house to have a celebration with them, Walt and Carol, Jessica, Meredith, Brian, Logan and Megan.  We haven't been up that-a-way for a while so it was good to be at their house.  They have do quite a bit to it in terms of redecorating and it really looks nice.

 Meredith spent a good part of the day explaining various aspects of smart phones, downloading some different aps, and putting together a hilarious video on something called "jib-jab."  Somehow this got posted to Facebook.  It really was a hoot.

Luke and Linda have a dog named "Buddy."  It is a spaniel and really good-natured.  So, when we were opening presents, Buddy had to see if anyone needed any help.

I think it's a dog thing.  Our Bailey used to get her nose into the wrapping paper and give the recipient lots of help (wanted or unwanted) as the gift was unwrapped. 

As with all pets that are easily mistaken as part of the family, Buddy had his own present that was his to open any way he could.  Adult humans usually try to pick up after themselves when they unwrap a gift.  Dogs -- not so much.

 

And then, what would Christmas be without a family picture.  Over the years I have been in charge of doing this and have gotten quite good at setting the timer and running around to be in the shot just before the timer delivers that final beep.  Pretty good looking group.


This was a fun time.  We all agreed that we don't do this often enough -- not the gift giving, but just getting together.  We said we were going to try to do better this coming year. Perhaps that is the best gift we could take away from this gathering.

"How could it be so? It came without ribbons!... it came without tags!... it came without packages, boxes, or bags!" (Dr. Seuss)

Hooah