I'm alive

Saturday I went skeet shooting with my future brother in-law and his friends. We pull in to an outdoor range and find ourselves warmly greeted by those in attendance. It was nice to see people bond over firearms. I am in Texas mind you.

I enter the store where people sign up for range use. I saw a couple of flyers on the display cases that raised a brow. One was a fundraiser for a Christian Academy. Apparently shooting guns for the Lord is the equivalent of tithing, which is kind of awesome.

Still there was another flyer that displayed a girl dressed in skimpy cowgirl garb holding a shotgun with a leg high in the air. Apparently it was an advertisement for a dance studio that also held shotgun classes. I know you think I'm lying, but I swear to all that is holy that I saw it with my own eyes.

Russ, his friend Jason, and I head to a range to get our shooting on. I for one loved it. The smell of gunpowder, the joy of seeing a clay pigeon break apart, and the technical aspects of the sport all made for an enjoyable experience. I wasn't very good, but did ok for someone unfamiliar. I could spend a lot of hours and money doing this hobby.

Afterwards the rest of the group all met up at a brewery and enjoyed pints and food. One gentleman there talked about his love for the AR15 rifle. He was so overjoyed he operates AR15.com, a website dedicated to the assault weapon. He told stories of having parties at his home where folks would bring their guns and hoot it up. Amazingly no one has been injured.

I'm serious. People here throw gun parties. This is the first, nor I doubt the last, time I've ever heard of such a thing outside of a gangster film.

Later that evening I went to a gathering for Kelly's family. The men went into a gun safe and admired numerous shotguns. Damn it I love Texas!

"Well, I'm about as tall as a shotgun, and just as noisy." - Truman Capote