Wednesday, July 23, 2014

David Codrea lied.

I'm  Larry Pratt.

I'm Larry Pratt

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Ah, yes. It's Tuesday.

Last night I stumbled onto a doe and fawn in the back yard. I got about 40 feet from them and they bolted which is par golf.

Last summer I was home a bit more and outside more and started seeing how close I could get to them. It was interesting to note that they would ignore me from 10 to fifteen feet and let me get as close as 5 feet from them. 

I very well may have been able to get them to eat out of my hand.

God has been pretty good to me as far as animals go. For some reason I can get closer to deer than most and it seems like there are not a whole lot of cats and dogs I can't make friends out of rather quickly.

I once taught a cat to walk with me on a leash.

Maybe if the recycling theory of life is true and I have to come back again I might decide to work with animals.

Truth is they are a lot less frustrating than people.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Monday, July 21, 2014

I ate at a Chick-fil-A the other day and it was pretty good for fast food.

 It's often called 'Hate Chicken' by a lot of people because the management made a comment that they were against gay marriage. 

The gay community put them on their little boycott list which is a crock. If you have ever read the Chick-fil-A mission statement they bear no ill will to the gay community. They are open to serve everyone regardless of race, creed, color, national origin or sexual preference.

This is another case of people with a political agenda looking for trouble just because someone won't toe the line 100% with them and kiss their ass.

Well, guess what? I don't really support one aspect of gay marriage, either. In fact I simply wish the government would go out of the marriage business altogether and replace it with civil unions.

That goes for all of us regardless of sexual orientation.

I suppose the government should sanction civil unions between any two people that want one. If you want to get married then go see the preacher. It would be recognized as a civil union for tax, inheritance purposes etc.

That settles that issue.

The other beef I am starting to have is the 'celebrate the beauty' of the gay lifestyle crap I am beginning to see.

No. I will not celebrate the beauty of something that belongs behind closed doors. I simply don't want to hear about it. It really is as simple as that.

While we were on the subject of Chick-fil-A it reminds me that I have another bone to pick with you. 

Remember when Phil Robertson spoke and said that he didn't cop to the gay lifestyle?

The gay community started in on him, too and wanted him off the show.

Guess what? 

America decided that enough was enough and backed Phil. I know I did.

Phil never condemned anyone, nor did he say anything mean or cruel. He simply said he wasn't interested in that kind of sex. Guess what?

Most of America isn't, either. I'm not, either.

Middle America slapped back and Phil is still on the show. 

Most of the people that slapped back and supported Phil are very likely many of the same people that have a 'go in peace' attitude to the gay community. It's the attitude I have. I don't want to see you bashed because of your sexuality simply because I believe in liberty.

If it doesn't hurt someone or rob someone it's pretty much OK by me.

I can see how the many in the gay community are starting to get greedy much like many in the black community are. It's the good old 'It's never enough syndrome'. Give an inch and someone takes a mile.

When that happens I will continue to stick up for your rights to assemble. Everyone has one. I'll also stick up for your rights to do what you will behind closed doors.

On the other hand when you get publicly obnoxious you can expect me to show up at your rally with a bag of tomatoes. I grew up in the 60s and have been to more than one rally on Boston Common and haven't forgotten how to throw a rotten tomato.

Keep getting greedy and that's where you'll find me.

For the record I used to be able to hit a politician with a tomato at about 30 yards. Head shots at about 20 to 25 yards. I suppose I can muster enough up in my old age to keep them in body at 25 or so and headshots at 20.

Fair is fair and enough is enough.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Sunday, July 20, 2014

UXO may be present!!!

I picked up a pretty good sign a while ago.

It says

Former military training area. Unexploded ordanance (UXO) may be present.
If you see a suspicious object mark the position and dial 911.

There is a picture of an old pineapple grenade in  the middle. It's pretty neat.

I put it up in the way-back of my yard to try and chase the kid out that keeps stealing pieces of paracord from the bottom of the tree my wire antenna is on.

Needless to say he was likely checking out my paracord and saw the sign. He apparently told his parents because I got a knock on the door and an indignant woman that reminded me of Larry Mondello's mother in the old 'Leave it to Beaver' series was there.

She was all worked up and I simply told her that keeping her kid out of my way-back was a good idea and left it at that.

I also pointed out that damaging a federally licensed radio station was considered an act of sabotage. I said that if whomever it was kept damaging my antenna by stealing my paracord I would prefer charges.
She got huffy and left.

As soon as she left I removed the sign and waited for the police whom I assumed were forthcoming.

They never showed.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Saturday, July 19, 2014

Yesterday was a last minute change in plans hence no real post.

CMP changed the schedule  this summer a little and things didn't coincide as I thought they would so I didn't sign up for the Garand match.

I was going to go up on a shopping trip today but  yesterday my partner begged off so on impulse I went yesterday morning.

It was a good trip because I got to meet a few people I have known for years. Celeste Dennison is still there making earplugs and has since she made a pair for Teddy Roosevelt at the first National Match. (or so it seems) 

The usual vendors were there on commercial row, much of which bored me and some of the vendors I was glad to see.

Rifle prices are down for the first time since Sandy Hook. I could have picked up an M-Forgery kit complete but without the stripped lower or rear sights for about $500. I was sort of tempted.

Ammo was high and powder, bullets and primers were still through the roof, though. Varget seemed unavailable although 4064 aand 4895 were in stock if you wanted to pay $20/pound.

I haven't shot at Perry in a few years and maybe next year I'll enter the Garand match. 

I made my trip over to visit the Marines, most of whom had a free afternoon as they were not slated to shoot the vintage sniper match which was going on at the Viale range.  I didn't go watch it as I have shot the course of fire before and got to watch it.

What is likely to happen with the vintage sniper match over the next year or two is the same thing that happened to the Garand match.  It had no service participation for the first year or two until a couple Marines brought their own Garands and shot it on their own nickel. After that a lot of service people entered the match.

My guess is that some Marine will go out and buy a Mosin-Nagant or something and shoot it next year and open the floodgate.

I went to the Marine Armorer's van and met a couple of people there I know and decided to call the van 'Headquarters' for my time there. As usual the armorers were pretty sociable to the point of just being outright funny at times.

One of them, a woman, I had met before and I was trying to remember where and under what circumstances. She admitted the same thing.

I am a sneaky bastard and when she sat down outside the van to grab a snack I waited until she had a mouthful of Mountain Dew and then asked her, "Will  marry me?"

Of course she snarfed and when she got over it saw me sitting there with a very self satisfied look on my face. That was when we both seemed to remember where we had met. She was a line armorer at the time. She was the one that gave me the name for the Hyman Skrunkle Award years ago.

We laughed over that and she got filled in on the details of what happened to that big trophy that went with it.

We gave it to some poor henpecked guy that had been shooting for years but had never won anything. We were looking for the guy that had a wife nagging him about still shooting all those years and had never seemed to win anything.

The purpose of the trophy was to give someone something to get his wife off his back. It's probably still on his mantle.

Occasionally clubs do this. There was a nearby club that wanted to show their appreciation to a guy that busted his ass for the pistol team but never seemed to make it into the winner's circle.

At the end of the season they gave him an award for being club's "Highest Scoring Black Catholic". It was just one of those things the guys do to thank someone. 

Anyway, I did make it to Perry this year even though I didn't shoot.

I didn't buy the usual pile of crap and as I type now I realize I didn't pick up the pellets for my pellet rifle which was on my short list.

One of the things that makes me realize I am getting old is that senior NCOs look pretty young these days. You are getting old when you see a Master Gunnery Sergeant and realize you could probably address him as "Young Man" and get away with it.

The Master Guns and I chatted a while and I learned something that kind of floored me. This year the team had to teach a couple of new members to shoot with iron sights! They had gone through boot camp and learned to shoot with Acogs. (optics)

The basic service rifle has changed as time has gone on yet it is still the basic Eugene Stoner design that has served since the 60s.

Anyway, I had a good day.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Friday, July 18, 2014

Busy today.

If I am home early I'll post then.

Don't expect it, though,

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Nice day. I think I'll work in the yard today.

I got this in my email today. When I read it I thought I'd share it.

In 1986, Peter Davies was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from the University of Toronto .

On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air.

The elephant seemed distressed, so Peter approached it very carefully.

He got down on one knee, inspected the elephants foot, and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it.

As carefully and as gently as he could, Peter worked the wood out with his knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot. 
The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments.

Peter stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled.

Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away.

Peter never forgot that elephant or the events of that day. 

Twenty years later, Peter was walking through the Toronto Zoo with his teenaged son.

As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Peter and his son Cameron were standing.

The large bull elephant stared at Peter, lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down.

The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.

Remembering the encounter in 1986, Peter could not help wondering if this was the same elephant.

Peter summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing, and made his way into the enclosure.

He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder. 

The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Peter legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly.

Probably wasn't the same elephant.

This is for everyone who sends me those heart-warming bullshit stories.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY