Monday, October 11, 2010
Sheepdogs
I try to cycle this through my blogs at least once a year. It's an article by Lt. Dave Grossman and highly regarded by both the military and law enforcement. Please take the time to read it. Even if you don't agree with the message, it will give you a better understanding of why sheepdogs do what they do.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
It's Semi-Official
I took, and passed, my NRA Instructor's classes for Basic Instructor Training, Home Safety and Basic Pistol. The reason it's semi-official? It'll be four to six weeks before I actually get my stuff from the NRA and can start teaching.
My friend Tara and I have been talking about getting instructor certified for a while now so that we can teach classes to women. Not that we couldn't without the credentials, but people really want that piece of paper saying that we know what we're doing.
Besides, the classes were a good excuse to take a couple of days off work and go to the range.
My friend Tara and I have been talking about getting instructor certified for a while now so that we can teach classes to women. Not that we couldn't without the credentials, but people really want that piece of paper saying that we know what we're doing.
Besides, the classes were a good excuse to take a couple of days off work and go to the range.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Only In Shooting Sports...
...can you say things like:
- limp-wrist
- short-stroke
- swinger
- bobber
- popper
- half-cock
- full-cock
- negligent discharge
- accidental discharge
- mount
- pump
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Zombie Killing Day
I love the Defensive Pistol matches, but have been known to skip them now and again. Okay, okay, so I went almost a full year without attending a monthly match. But there is one match that I try my darnedest to never miss and it's the Zombie match. I love killing Zombies. There's something very satisfying about blasting them in the head (Rule #2 when dealing with Zombies). You know, "two to the head makes them dead(er)".
So, for you viewing pleasure are a couple of Zombie-killing clips (even if one does have a clear violation of Rule #4).
Maybe for the next video, we need to add a new rule, Rule #33 (did you know there were already 32 other rules?). Anyway, Rule #33: Don't short-stroke the shotgun.
Here's a shooting buddy of mine protecting the little trick-or-treaters...
And I killed all those Zombies without chipping my nail polish (had to get dressed up for Zombie Killing Day).
So, for you viewing pleasure are a couple of Zombie-killing clips (even if one does have a clear violation of Rule #4).
Maybe for the next video, we need to add a new rule, Rule #33 (did you know there were already 32 other rules?). Anyway, Rule #33: Don't short-stroke the shotgun.
Here's a shooting buddy of mine protecting the little trick-or-treaters...
And I killed all those Zombies without chipping my nail polish (had to get dressed up for Zombie Killing Day).
Friday, October 1, 2010
I'm Not Crazy Afterall
It was subtle.
A hesitation here.
A snag there.
Then nothing for a while.
Again, a hesitation.
"Honey, here, shoot this, it's not right."
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Babe, there's nothing wrong with it."
Okay, maybe I'm crazy.
But...
A hesitation.
A snag.
Then, nothing. A perfect run through ten rounds.
Suddenly, she quits going into battery.
Slam! The base of my palm hits the back of her slide and she chambers the round.
Bang! Bang!
Slam! Again, the base of my palm hits the back of her slide and she chambers the round.
More frequent. Bang! Slam! Bang! Slam! Bang! Slam! Slam! "Damn!" Slam! Bang!
Finally.
"Maybe it's your magazines."
"How long's it been since you cleaned your gun?"
"Maybe it's your recoil spring."
"Maybe you're limp-wristing it."
Maybe...maybe...maybe...
So I cleaned my magazines.
And I cleaned my gun.
Still...a hesitation.
A snag.
She won't chamber a round. Can't be the magazines - they're spit-shined.
Can't be she's dirty - she's been spit-shined.
Off to the gunsmith we go. Maybe a new recoil spring. Who knows?
"Boss, she's not playing nice."
"How's she not playing nice."
"She won't go into battery. I've cleaned the magazines. I've cleaned her. She still won't go into battery. She's not playing nice."
"Let me see." A quick function test. A grimace. "Who's been in your gun?"
"No one."
"Your trigger's all jacked up. Where's your sear?"
"What do you mean, where's my sear?"
"Didn't you notice it was missing when you were resetting your trigger?"
"I thought I was imagining it."
"No. It's not there."
"I'm not imagining it?"
"No. It's not there."
A wave of relief. It wasn't my imagination. She has been acting up.
Off to theoperating table bench. Slowly, piece by piece, Boss Man takes her apart.
Exploratory surgery reveals a lot of little problems. A hook on the extractor - file it off. Sear spring out of shape - re-shape it. Compressed spring here - replace it. Nasty crud there - scrape it off. Boss Man's big hands moving smoothly and surely, nip and tuck. Pretty soon she's reassembled and sparkling clean.
Boss Man, "How's this feel?"
"A little heavy."
"Want me to lighten it up?"
"Yeah, she was set to 2 3/4 pounds before. This is heavier."
Measured out to be over three pounds. Still a light trigger, but heavier that she used to be.
A quick adjustment, "try this."
"Love it."
Into the trap...Bang! Bang! Bang! *Big grin* Bang! Bang! Bang!
No hesitations.
No snags.
No slapping the rear of the slide.
Bang-bang! Bang-bang!
I love my gun.
A hesitation here.
A snag there.
Then nothing for a while.
Again, a hesitation.
"Honey, here, shoot this, it's not right."
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Babe, there's nothing wrong with it."
Okay, maybe I'm crazy.
But...
A hesitation.
A snag.
Then, nothing. A perfect run through ten rounds.
Suddenly, she quits going into battery.
Slam! The base of my palm hits the back of her slide and she chambers the round.
Bang! Bang!
Slam! Again, the base of my palm hits the back of her slide and she chambers the round.
More frequent. Bang! Slam! Bang! Slam! Bang! Slam! Slam! "Damn!" Slam! Bang!
Finally.
"Maybe it's your magazines."
"How long's it been since you cleaned your gun?"
"Maybe it's your recoil spring."
"Maybe you're limp-wristing it."
Maybe...maybe...maybe...
So I cleaned my magazines.
And I cleaned my gun.
Still...a hesitation.
A snag.
She won't chamber a round. Can't be the magazines - they're spit-shined.
Can't be she's dirty - she's been spit-shined.
Off to the gunsmith we go. Maybe a new recoil spring. Who knows?
"Boss, she's not playing nice."
"How's she not playing nice."
"She won't go into battery. I've cleaned the magazines. I've cleaned her. She still won't go into battery. She's not playing nice."
"Let me see." A quick function test. A grimace. "Who's been in your gun?"
"No one."
"Your trigger's all jacked up. Where's your sear?"
"What do you mean, where's my sear?"
"Didn't you notice it was missing when you were resetting your trigger?"
"I thought I was imagining it."
"No. It's not there."
"I'm not imagining it?"
"No. It's not there."
A wave of relief. It wasn't my imagination. She has been acting up.
Off to the
Exploratory surgery reveals a lot of little problems. A hook on the extractor - file it off. Sear spring out of shape - re-shape it. Compressed spring here - replace it. Nasty crud there - scrape it off. Boss Man's big hands moving smoothly and surely, nip and tuck. Pretty soon she's reassembled and sparkling clean.
Boss Man, "How's this feel?"
"A little heavy."
"Want me to lighten it up?"
"Yeah, she was set to 2 3/4 pounds before. This is heavier."
Measured out to be over three pounds. Still a light trigger, but heavier that she used to be.
A quick adjustment, "try this."
"Love it."
Into the trap...Bang! Bang! Bang! *Big grin* Bang! Bang! Bang!
No hesitations.
No snags.
No slapping the rear of the slide.
Bang-bang! Bang-bang!
I love my gun.
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