Sometimes, it's more than 'just a gun'
As the days begin to shorten dramatically and jackets return from their summer banishment, thoughts are turning to the rites of fall. Central to these rituals is the crisp "snick" of a rifle bolt closing like an antique safe or the satiating clatter of a pump shotgun putting a round into the tube. Some do not understand our devotion and call it "just a gun."
Yours Truly has been fortunate to spend a large amount of time shooting and teaching others to shoot over the past several weeks. During this time, every sort of gun from cheap .22 pistols to major caliber rifles has passed through my hands and a dawning insight has formed like a rainbow to leeward. While considering the mechanical aspects of these machines, I began to realize that each firearm also has an emotional attachment, like an unseen accessory that is a product of the shooter's mindset rather than the hands of a skilled craftsman in East Alton, Ill.
Think about the firearms in your life and the feelings that happen when you do. For instance, there is nothing quite so electrifying as pulling a brand new gun from the box and throwing it to your shoulder. You then take it down, spin it 90 degrees and admire the fit of steel to wood, rubbing your hand over the receiver to feel the cool smoothness.
After using an old T-shirt to wipe off the fingerprints, you vow to keep this gun spotless no matter how much it is used. At that moment you feel supremely fulfilled and self-reliant because you worked hard and managed to save the money to buy such a perfect gun.
If you are not an avid shooter, you probably approach guns with awe and fear mixed with a large side order of curiosity. Should you hold a membership in the Liberal Guilt Society, you might even feel ashamed that grandpa's old shotgun is sitting in the back corner of the closet. You'd like to get rid of the shabby and dangerous thing, but ...
The reason that gun is still in the closet is your connection to the memories represented by the unassuming and dusty gun. Once you realize this, you can begin to understand those who cherish these living bits of history. Those that have the handed-down gun of a father or uncle or grandfather know there are few things better than sharing a ramble in the autumn woods, trying to bring home something for the stew pot. Sometimes you even think the old man is watching.
Anger and humility is also part of the experience. After missing a clay bird or a big buck, shooters have been known to throw their gun into the lake and stomp around, fuming at the infernal and obviously defective weapon. Later, over a campfire or barstool, they know even without admitting that it was not the gun but the operator that failed. Humility sinks in like a winter fog with silently muttered promises to hit the firing range more often.
Best of all is the satisfaction that comes from owning a weapon that has been much carried and has served honorably through thick and thin. This contentment comes from having a weapon that feels like a natural part of your body when it is held, one where you can aim the muzzle as easily as your index finger and with less thought. The gun has brought home birds or deer or championships and sometimes you would rather sell your corneas than give up that firearm.
You lavish it with care, sometimes taking it out of the locker just for a quick wipe down with an oily rag. Having the gun in your hands causes the mists of time to collect around your feet as you stare off, thinking of ones that got away, a couple that didn't and all the pleasure that has collected in your life because of that stick of steel and wood. It is like leafing through an old photo album, though the sunsets are always perfect and the company even more so because the image is stored solely within your gray matter.
There are few things in life so steeped in tradition, forged in history both personal and universal, dangerous yet comforting. Guns cause a wide variety of reactions that range from fear to love, though they are simply inanimate objects without a will of their own or a conscience for the results.
It is the owner that makes the gun. Every time you pick up the piece or fire a round, a new chapter is written in the history book that grows with the passing years. If you are faithful and conscientious, the gun and the history will travel forward to your descendants, connecting them back to this day and adventure.
Is it still "just a gun?"
btwheat@wildindiana.com
http://www.flyergroup.com/cgi-bin/LiveIQue.acgi$rec=31482?hc_story
As the days begin to shorten dramatically and jackets return from their summer banishment, thoughts are turning to the rites of fall. Central to these rituals is the crisp "snick" of a rifle bolt closing like an antique safe or the satiating clatter of a pump shotgun putting a round into the tube. Some do not understand our devotion and call it "just a gun."
Yours Truly has been fortunate to spend a large amount of time shooting and teaching others to shoot over the past several weeks. During this time, every sort of gun from cheap .22 pistols to major caliber rifles has passed through my hands and a dawning insight has formed like a rainbow to leeward. While considering the mechanical aspects of these machines, I began to realize that each firearm also has an emotional attachment, like an unseen accessory that is a product of the shooter's mindset rather than the hands of a skilled craftsman in East Alton, Ill.
Think about the firearms in your life and the feelings that happen when you do. For instance, there is nothing quite so electrifying as pulling a brand new gun from the box and throwing it to your shoulder. You then take it down, spin it 90 degrees and admire the fit of steel to wood, rubbing your hand over the receiver to feel the cool smoothness.
After using an old T-shirt to wipe off the fingerprints, you vow to keep this gun spotless no matter how much it is used. At that moment you feel supremely fulfilled and self-reliant because you worked hard and managed to save the money to buy such a perfect gun.
If you are not an avid shooter, you probably approach guns with awe and fear mixed with a large side order of curiosity. Should you hold a membership in the Liberal Guilt Society, you might even feel ashamed that grandpa's old shotgun is sitting in the back corner of the closet. You'd like to get rid of the shabby and dangerous thing, but ...
The reason that gun is still in the closet is your connection to the memories represented by the unassuming and dusty gun. Once you realize this, you can begin to understand those who cherish these living bits of history. Those that have the handed-down gun of a father or uncle or grandfather know there are few things better than sharing a ramble in the autumn woods, trying to bring home something for the stew pot. Sometimes you even think the old man is watching.
Anger and humility is also part of the experience. After missing a clay bird or a big buck, shooters have been known to throw their gun into the lake and stomp around, fuming at the infernal and obviously defective weapon. Later, over a campfire or barstool, they know even without admitting that it was not the gun but the operator that failed. Humility sinks in like a winter fog with silently muttered promises to hit the firing range more often.
Best of all is the satisfaction that comes from owning a weapon that has been much carried and has served honorably through thick and thin. This contentment comes from having a weapon that feels like a natural part of your body when it is held, one where you can aim the muzzle as easily as your index finger and with less thought. The gun has brought home birds or deer or championships and sometimes you would rather sell your corneas than give up that firearm.
You lavish it with care, sometimes taking it out of the locker just for a quick wipe down with an oily rag. Having the gun in your hands causes the mists of time to collect around your feet as you stare off, thinking of ones that got away, a couple that didn't and all the pleasure that has collected in your life because of that stick of steel and wood. It is like leafing through an old photo album, though the sunsets are always perfect and the company even more so because the image is stored solely within your gray matter.
There are few things in life so steeped in tradition, forged in history both personal and universal, dangerous yet comforting. Guns cause a wide variety of reactions that range from fear to love, though they are simply inanimate objects without a will of their own or a conscience for the results.
It is the owner that makes the gun. Every time you pick up the piece or fire a round, a new chapter is written in the history book that grows with the passing years. If you are faithful and conscientious, the gun and the history will travel forward to your descendants, connecting them back to this day and adventure.
Is it still "just a gun?"
btwheat@wildindiana.com
http://www.flyergroup.com/cgi-bin/LiveIQue.acgi$rec=31482?hc_story