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This is one of those phrases I never thought I’d hear myself utter. Much like the phrase “Don’t feed the possum, Mother,” which was a classic from six years ago. But utter it I did,
I generally think of myself and of MKL as peaceful people. We both strive for a chill alignment with the universe and to be essentially messengers of love and light. So pardon my surprise when he revealed, during a trip to our local Jax, sporting goods/farm equipment shoppe extraordinaire, a strong hankering for a Glock. And we’re not talking Glockenspiel.
Nope, he wanted a gun. He grew up in the wooly wilds of Kansas and learned to shoot at age six. He’d owned guns before but hadn’t had one for a number of years, as he has been busy raising kid(s). Well, the kids are all grown except for one, The Boy, who is 17 and so can be classified as nearly grown. So MKL, perhaps emboldened by my trusty companion Jimmy, decided it was time to take the plunge again.
After all, the couple that target shoots together….well, it’s a togetherness activity that we share.
Since the prices at Jax seemed a bit steep, we decided to wait a couple of weeks until the Tanner Gun Show.
I’ve never been to a gun show before. In fact, I’m not a big gun fan. I didn’t grow up with them. I know they are dangerous, especially with kids around and especially especially should they fall into the wrong hands. But I’ve gotten past that, and I’ve enjoyed target shooting. It’s self-challenging and exacting. So off we went to Glock shop.
I couldn’t take pictures inside the show, which was held at the lovely Merchandise Mart in Denver. I’m not sure why, but I wasn’t really pumped to test the rules of security at a gun show. Perhaps the folks there value their privacy more than others. I have to say they were certainly the most polite bunch of folks that I’ve been crammed into a ginormous room with, ever. Pondering this later, it makes sense. Because almost everyone there was already armed, so pissing off strangers is not a good idea.
MKL did find the Glock of his dreams and the ammo to go with it, and bought me some ammo for good measure. I was intrigued by a rose-gripped 38 Special and an engraved snub-nose 354 Magnum, but I think there are cash priorities for me these days that supersede firearms purchases.
The pepper spray that not only disables your attacker, but turns him or her a glowingly bright shade of green for 21 days was a serious temptation, and is a 95% certain future purchase.
The vintage army/navy surplus clothing reminded me that somewhere, in some trunk, I own a wool navy sergeant’s middy in perfect condition that I bought at the Salvation Army in Durham right before I moved out here.
And I coveted the small taxidermied cobra, who would have been a perfect companion for Dude the Armadillo.
Then, there it was. The pistol of my dreams. A pearl-handled Colt Lightning revolver from 1877. When I held it in my hand, I knew that I had held this exact gun sometime else, long ago, before. It melted into my palm as if it were just an extension of my arm. I gazed at it in amazement. The price? $1500. What does that mean? On this day, when my job and future income was hanging by a tenuous thread? You guessed it – a forced parting. Oh, but I longed for her (and yes, she was a her).
I didn’t think I would ever have such an immediate (or any) attachment to a gun. But life surprises you sometimes. Since I have seen that she is out there, I suspect our paths will cross again someday. And since I couldn’t take a picture of her myself, here’s one that’s the very image of her.
I think her name is Rose. But I’m not quite sure yet.
We concluded our day by driving Kelsea and her BFF to a fancypants dinner at the St. Julien Hotel. You will note that they looked most elegant in their little black dresses, although watching my teenage daughter walk into a hotel in her short, tight, black dress made me utter something else that I never thought I would and that will not be published here.
Note: I’ve had a lot of posts that I’ve written in the past sort of lying in wait, so instead of keeping YOU waiting, I’m going to start posting them. You’ll be out of sequence in my life, but no worries, so am I.