Gun Safety and Personal Safety - A Dichotomy

When I was nine years old my parents bought me my first firearm, an Ithaca M-49.  Let us pause briefly while any anti-freedom Moonbats reading this are revived and the howls from the Brady Bunch spit spit are stifled by the Sargent at Arms.  Now then.

I opened the package on Christmas morning, and before Christmas dinner my father sat me down and had a short talk with me about safety.  I'd been shooting dad's .22 rifle for several months, but that was always under adult supervision.  This was my very own rifle and now I was on my own.  Although he didn't really enumerate them, what dad told me about in no uncertain terms were the Four Rules of Gun Safety.  Here they are, with credit to Jeff Cooper:

1. All guns are always loaded.
2. Never let the muzzle cover anything you are not willing to destroy.
3. Keep your finger off the trigger until your sights are on the target.
4. Be sure of your target and what is beyond it.

These rules are designed to keep gun owners from shooting each other.  This is what was drilled into me from the age of nine and it's what I practice today with special attention paid to rule number two, and that is where the problem begins.

Call 9-1-1

A long time ago I called 9-1-1 to report a crises in progress, namely a violent, drunken woman who was outside my home and trying to get inside and make my life miserable.  Or something.  The woman in question was an ex-migraine who hadn't quite fully accepted her new role.  I have no patience with drunks, especially violent drunks, but I knew an entire department of upstanding men and women who did - and I'm not talking about grade school teachers.  The Sylvania Township Police have all the patience in the world, plus they are unfailingly kind, helpful, thrifty, goodnatured, witty and experienced.  They know how to deal with drunks.  So I called nine one one and explained the situation to the helpful voice on the other end of the line, requesting a car for one along with reservations for a room with a view.  Then I sat back and waited.

45 minutes later the phone rang.  It was the Sylvania Township Police department.  They couldn't find my house.  No, I'm not making this up, but I wasn't all that surprised either.  My home is difficult to find and the police haven't been out here in many, many years.  The thing is, a lot can happen in 45 minutes.

Shooting "Victim"

Let's say that you're a clerk at a convenience store in a bad part of Toledo.  For your protection the owner of the store has installed security cameras, which is what Toledo Police Chief Navarre advocated.  Being a somewhat practical man with more than a modicum of common sense, the owner has also install a 9mm handgun under the counter - also for your protection.  Nice, huh?

All you (the clerk) want out of life is what most men want.  You want to finish your shift and go home, have dinner, maybe have a drink and pat momma on the ass.  One morning around 10:00 you run into a little opposition.  Two black gang bangers come into the store, pull out their guns and start yammering away at you.  For your part, you pick up the handgun that the owner has thoughtfully provided for just such an emergency.  The three of you put lead in the air, and when the smoke clears the authorities find one robber dead right there.  The other robber sought safety in flight.  The local bird cage liner announces that the victim of the shooting was the robber that you ventilated.

Water Buffalo

One of my readers took exception to my use of the term 'water buffalo' (here) on the grounds that it is a common racial epithet used to refer to African American women.  I didn't agree, and after doing some research and inviting public opinion from an elite cadre of contributors on a local Toledo site (ToledoTalk) I haven't changed my mind.

All that being the case, the research provided me with a nice walk through history.  Along the way I learned the origin of the term 'water buffalo'.

Weekend Update

The plan last weekend included Big Mike arriving in Toledo on Friday night.  We'd go shooting on Saturday, followed by a civilized lunch around 3:30 or 4:00.  Sadly -

The best laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley.

Big Mike's car broke down and he had to leave it in the shop.  I got the bad news Friday night, then Mike called me back on Saturday afternoon around 3:00 - just before my afternoon snort.

General News and Ramblings

I don't lack for inspiration.  The trouble is that if I write about politics or religion I'll go off on a rant that likely to get my own little slice of literary heaven darkened by the owner of the service and my name will surface in the middle of some report that's produced for the government by the government and understood by no one in the government.

So I'll just go rambling along and see where I end up.

On Employees, Employment and Labor Unions

Maybe I'm just in a bad mood, but I stumbled across a link to an article from Westxdesign about what employees need most. I don't know who wrote this incredible drivel, but the author should spend six months as an agricultural harvesting technician on a farm in Delta, Ohio during the tomato season. What is really frightening is that I think some people actually read crap like this and believe it for the gospel truth. Keep reading for the article and my commentary.

Main Lady's mother, Centenarian, is 103 years old and still able to get around on her own.  That condition isn't going to last forever, and in fact I'm not laying any odds on the old freighter making 104.  All that aside, Centenarian has a rather large home packed full of antiques (the real deal here), family heirlooms, high quality housewares and junk.   Separating the wheat from the chaff is not always obvious - for instance, when my own grandfather cashed in his chips we had an estate auction in which one of the items was a wooden cabinet that none of the family would have bothered to chop up for kindling... it fetched $350 at auction.

So.

What I'm looking for is someone to walk through the house, point out the valuable stuff and estimate a price.  I'm willing to pay for the services, but the last time I got involved in something like this I encountered a snake oil salesman that was almost as slippery and underhanded as I am, and that is truly saying something.  That couple (a tag team match) tried making quick buys on valuable items just as a favor between friends.  I declined.  The man, by the way, was a minister who dabbled in politics and professed to be an expert in antiques.  I got him off by himself told him very quietly that if I ever saw or heard of him coming near my loved ones again I'd put some buckshot in his behind.  He got offended and left.  So does anyone have any recommendations?  I need to find someone who is not a thieving, thimble rigging snake oil salesman and does, in fact, have the answers to the questions I'm posing?

Centenarian is local to Sylvania, Ohio.

Happy Saint Valentine's Day!

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet...

That's from Romeo and Juliet during the famous balcony scene.  I'd have thought that the two families could find some way to bury the hatchet that did not involve another family member's back, but as everyone knows that wasn't the case.  I once dated a girl whose family didn't care for me.  The relationship didn't last long, although she did hint around about eloping in the middle of the night.  I had better sense, even back then.  Several years later I discovered that it wasn't me personally, it was her parents.  They were both a little neurotic and were busy pretending to be something they weren't - namely, filthy rich.  And so, you see, since my family was not rolling in the dough it would naturally follow that I, young Mad Jack, was not good enough for their daughter, but then neither was anyone else in the immediate vicinity.  Oh well, c'est la vie.

I'm happy with Main Lady, who sent me a nice valentine yesterday.  For my part, I sent valentines to Main Lady, Centenarian, Mom and Mopsy, who is in town this week.  Later on today we'll congregate for champagne and hors d'oeuvres.

February 14 is Starbucks Appreciation Day

The Brady Bunch, a demented sub-group of the anti-freedom moonbat crowd discovered that the friendly folks over at Starbucks coffee shop are refusing to ban firearms from their premises.  Clearly that ain't right, so the moonbat powers that be directed their loyal sycophants, the National Gun Victim's Action Council (NGAC), to boycott Starbucks on St. Valentine's Day.

By way of retaliation for attempted oppression and to keep the Brady Bunch awake nights, Ohioans for Concealed Carry launched a counter attack with Starbucks Appreciation Day, the idea being to go on down to your local Starbucks and buy a cup of joe.

I support the right to bear arms, and by that I mean any armament an adult chooses borne in any manner the adult chooses and done so wherever the adult is legally allowed to be, armed or otherwise.  So to show my opposition to the Brady Bunch, I'm going to stop by Starbucks tomorrow and have a cup of coffee.  After that I'll buy Main Lady a nice gift certificate to Starbucks.

How do you like them apples, Sarah?

Film Review: The Woman in Black (2012)

The Woman in Black (2012)
Rated: PG-13
Running Time: 95 Min
Genre: Drama | Horror | Thriller

Tomato Meter: 64%

Cast overview, first billed only:
Emma Shorey as Fisher Girl (Necessary Child)
Molly Harmon as Fisher Girl (who starred in the immemorial film Kitten in a Cat Trap)
Molly Harmon as Fisher Girl (don't blame me, IMDB lists her twice)
Sophie Stuckey as Stella Kipps (Our Hero's wife or something)
Daniel Radcliffe as Arthur Kipps (Our Hero!)
Misha Handley as Joseph Kipps (Our Her's Young Son)
Jessica Raine as Nanny (Our Hero's Nanny)
Roger Allam as Mr. Bentley (Possibly a central plot character, possibly not)
Lucy May Barker as Nursemaid (Forgetabble)
Indira Ainger as Little Girl on Train (Little Girl on Train. What? That's what she is.)
Andy Robb as Doctor (Eh.)
Ciarán Hinds as Daily (Our Hero's Sidekick or Something)
Shaun Dooley as Fisher (Another Fisher)
Mary Stockley as Mrs. Fisher (Some other kind of Fisher)
Alexia Osborne as Victoria Hardy (Ah... don't remember)

If you're in the mood for a good old Hammer style horror film, then go see The Woman in Black and you won't be disappointed.  If not, then go see One for the Money or some other piece of vacuous tripe and free up a seat for the rest of the world.

Keep reading for my considered opinion on The Woman in Black, without spoilers.

Restaurant Closed

I wrote about Ski's Polish restaurant here - Restaurant Review: Ski's Restaurant - and although I didn't go into much detail I did say I'd never eat there nor would I ever recommend the place to my family or friends.  I wouldn't recommend it to my enemies or elected officials either.  So when Main Lady pointed this out to me in yesterday's paper I was pleasantly surprised.

Farewell to Ski's

After five years of business... Ski’s Restaurant is calling it quits.

Good riddance.

My Own Prediction

While enjoying my morning bourbon I thought to peruse History Mike, who is one of my favorite writers.  He hasn't written much lately, but today this erudite academic has published his annual prognostication, appropriately entitled Super Bowl XVLI Prediction.  I am thus inspired to make a prediction of my own - but what would it be?  Such things are supposed to be ambivalent at best; charitably described as nebulous at worst.  I continued searching and found nothing.  Clearly more inspiration is called for, so I refreshed my glass.

My Life:How Time Flies

Doesn't time fly when you're having fun?  Seems like you just get started with a favorite activity and it's time to quit and do something else.  Like shoveling eight inches of wet snow off the driveway and the front walk so that the company coming over for dinner tonight won't get stuck in the snow or get their feet wet.  Time is funny that way.  Years ago I was instructed that if I wanted to count accurately in seconds, I could say the number followed by the phrase one-thousand, as in one one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand... this is supposed to provide accuracy instead of subjectivity.  Just try it the next time you're in your dentist's customer care chair while he revs up his favorite drill and waits for the Novocaine to take effect.  Try to remember that the time is subjective.

I ran across a few old 35mm slides and had them digitized.  I was reminded about the passage of time and how things happen without any of us realizing it until too late.

Ohio HB 14

The geniuses in Columbus have done it again.  Ohio is one of the few States governed by people backward and ignorant enough to declare a dog dangerous or vicious solely on the basis of its breed, and populated with sheeple stupid and apathetic enough to believe their lies and keep them in office.  Twenty five years after enactment, lawmakers decided to change the law and ended up screwing the pooch.