December 3, 2011

At Long Last...

 In my time on Planet Earth, I have had many experiences – failures, successes, surprises, “here it comes” moments, “Why did I think THAT was a good idea?” moments. I’ve learned much, forgotten more, and done things I would never have believed possible when I was growing up. But in all my 53 years, I’ve never really known “what I want to be when I grow up.” I think I may have the answer to that question at long last – I want to be a gunsmith.
!?!?!?! Yeah, I know, I never really owned any guns worth mentioning until 2008 and I never went hunting more than a dozen times in my entire life. But I think that had more to do with opportunity than desire.
 For the first 20 years of my adult life, I was a member of the U.S. Air Force. For 17 of those years, my wife and I thought it best that we live in military housing. There are so many restrictions on when and where you are allowed to possess firearms on a military installation, it just didn’t seem to be worth the hassle. For example, all guns have to remain unloaded at all times, even in your house. And God help you if you get caught with one in your car if you aren’t headed directly to or from the gate, the range or the armory. Combine that with the chronic shortage of money during those years; I did not see the point in owning guns. [SIDE NOTE: These restrictions and the mindset that created them explain why a lone jihadist in an auditorium full of skilled soldiers was able to kill 13 and wound 29 at Ft. Hood. The military doesn’t trust the adults they have spent years training to be disciplined to actually discipline themselves when it comes to private gun ownership. All that the Ft. Hood victims had available to try and defend themselves with when Hasan opened fire were chairs and tables. Outrageous.]
 Upon retirement in 1997, I spent $125 and bought a 12-gauge pump shotgun for home defense/varmint control and a pitiful .22 Short revolver (which has been retired indefinitely until I can figure out how to get more flame out of the muzzle than at the cylinder gap…quite the light show with dusk coming on). It was another 11 years before I bought any more guns and became comfortable calling myself a gun owner. Thank you, President Obama.
 Over the last few years of owning and using both rifles and handguns, I’ve revived the fascination I felt for them as I was growing up. One of the most vivid memories I have of my childhood was Christmas 1963. I was five-years-old and my parents gave me the most awesome toy any boy growing up in pre-politically correct America could want: a Mattel Shootin’ Shell Winchester lever-action cap gun – a cap gun that actually shot bullets! When you pulled the trigger, the cap popped and shook the spring-loaded “case” it was attached to, which launched a plastic bullet out of the barrel and across the room! SWEET!!! All you had to do was find the bullet (not always easy), mash it back into the case, stick on another cap and it was ready to go again! I’ll never forget that gun. (Want to see it in action? Check out this TV ad from 1962!)
 Anyway, now that I have guns readily available, I’ve realized I want to be able to work on them when the need arises. It was a short step from there to realizing I would enjoy working on other people’s guns as well. My first four years in the Air Force were spent maintaining the intercept radar and missile launch circuitry of the F-4E Phantom II (still my favorite aircraft), so I know I have the aptitude and skills for intricate work and troubleshooting malfunctions. The next step is to learn how different guns are designed and how they function. That means getting training. And while I have decided which training I want to take, getting the funds to do so is going to take a little time – it’s not cheap and I wouldn’t trust it if it were.
 In the meantime, I intend to go on leaning about my own guns. I may even go so far as to video my efforts and post them here…at least the successes. Wish me luck. This doesn't feel like a passing fad.