Here are three more of my handguns, ready to play or to work.Driving, shooting & music go well together ....
This is a lazy day (night) post. Drove my Mustang "boy racer" style on Saturday. Fired three handguns on Saturday. Listened to rock music on Saturday, mingled with the sound of the gunfire. That makes for a good day, in many respects, for me.
To show the culprits in this escapade. On top is a Smith & Wesson Model 629. It is a .44 Magnum, and this is a more recent version of the revolver made famous by Clint Eastwood in his "Dirty Harry" movies. I can "pop" two-liter pop containers at 40 yards with this baby. (I do have lots of babies in my life, do I not?)
Next is my carry (if and when I carry) Colt, Model 1911, Gold Cup, National Match pistol in .45 caliber. It has had a bit of custom work, visible on the outside, but the more important work is on the inside. It is a greater shooter.
Finally, on the bottom, is my concession to modern handguns. It is a Glock Model 30, which also is .45 caliber. It is my house pistol, my back-pocket pistol.
Incidentally, what might appear to be designs on the slide of the Colt 1911 are simply clouds and blue sky reflecting on protective oil. Sort of a neat look, though.
Personally, I cannot understand why an average, normal person would be afraid of firearms. Take a pistol course from a trained, professional, licensed instructor, and I think eight or nine out of ten would fall in love with shooting sports.
I cannot imagine life without firearms. There is no need to be a hunter with them but, I think, there is every need to increase the number among us who believe in the personal rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Only tyrants wish to disarm the common folk. Remember that, or your descendants will live to regret your lack of courage and wisdom.
Music Note: Listening to "Yes" ....
Specfically, "The Yes Album" ....
Some lines from "Starship Trooper:"
Starship trooper, go sailing on by,
Catch my soul, catch the very night.
Hide the moment from my eager eyes.
Though you’ve seen them, please don't tell a soul.
What you can't see, can't be very whole.
Speak to me of summer, long winters longer than time can remember,
Setting up of other roads, travel on in old accustomed ways.
I still remember the talks by the water, the proud sons and daughters that,
In the knowledge of the land, spoke to me in sweet accustomed ways.
