Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Lost Wednesday

You know, for reasons I don't fully understand, this trip absolutely kicked my ass. It shouldn't have — wasn't even a particularly hard filming session, except that I didn't get to shoot — but there it is. Or rather, here I am at the Baltimore airport trying to get my bran to reboot from a back-up disk.

I may have conservative battle fatigue, a subject much on the Internet's mind these days, except that as a "gun guy," I'm not really really a conservative. No wait, it's an election year, so I'll be warmly accepted into the Republican fold sometime around September. Of course I'll be excommunicated by Christmas along with all the other Second Amendment "zealots" who don't understand the real issues facing America, such as Britney Spears' carseat, alligators and gay marriage.

Part of my malaise, I know, is that my trip home is a turn-around, just there long enough to pay some bills, become hysterical at a public meeting with the Evil Trolls of the Forest Service, then gone again, albeit to Milwaukee to troll the NRA show floor. Another part, however, is after spending a day with the Powers-That-Be, I feel more tired than ever, since I heard over and over againt that the biggest issue facing gun owners and Second Amendment advocates is loss of hunting access. I occasionally feel like I'm speaking in tongues while juggling hissing rattlesnakes when I'm talking to the P-T-B...there's a fundamental disconnect between them and me. I think there's an unwillingness to believe that someone who actually owns guns, who shoots, is not equally, wildly passionate about whacking furry creatures.

They keep coming at me along different tangents...well, have you ever...

Usually, the answer is yes — I'm a skilled woodsman; an excellent shot; knowledgeable about animals and their habits; like stopping in the woods on a snowy evening; have seen moose silhouetted against the Alaska dawn; heard wolves howl in the black night; can set a good camp; have plucked, cleaned and gutted, pondered the entrails of all sorts of things; can intelligently, more or less, discuss ballistics with Charlie Petty from AMERICAN RIFLEMAN...but I'm a shooter, not a hunter.

Ironically, while our leaders don't get it, Time Magazine does. Or at least this writer from Time does (and this is one heck of a story):
Says Alan, a teacher: "The art on the range, on the job, in life, is to aim and to hit exactly the target, the one target, the only target, dead center, with one round." Clearly, I have a lot of practicing to do. But shooting has taught me that while to err may be human, to aim true is almost divine.
Amen, sister! I shoot, therefore I am!

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I was on a range yesterday with a couple of buddies. Two of us were experienced shooters. I'm a handgun instructor and rifle team coach. The other guy used to direct IDPA matches and is a seasoned handgun competitor. The third was a total newbie who owns two handguns and who really likes shooting.

We shot and shot and shot. We had everything from a blackpowder 1858 Remmie clone to an M1 Carbine to a tacticool AR-15. We had a lot of fun.

When the newbie had to leave (he left a home improvement project for a little range break with us and had to get back to the plumbing in the bathroom) we two more experienced shooters started talking.

Both of us saw a real problem in the shooting sports. Too many times, shooters think that only people in their own specialized little group are the "real shooters" and nobody outside the group counts.

Just between the two of us we shared story after story of being snubbed, disrespected, or otherwise treated shabbily by all kinds of specialized shooting groups.

Between us, we had been snubbed or insulted on ranges and at matches by folks in IPSC, Cowboy Action Shooting, IDPA, bench rest, tactical matches, NRA Highpower, and 3P smallbore.

We both thought it odd that we were both still so much into shooting after being treated so poorly by so many other shooters. It's a testament to how much fun shooting really is, I think, that neither one of us had packed it in a long time ago.

The problem is that human beings are by nature drawn to cliques. And nobody outside the clique counts.

I'll bet that the problem with The Powers That Be is that they are overwhelmingly older white guys who grew up hunting, and who have enough money to go on big time hunting trips. And they can't imagine anyone who shoots guns who isn't part of that group.

I'll bet they aren't going to change their attitudes or outlook any time soon. The only way to fix a group like that, I'm afraid, is to replace some of them as they retire, get too old, or pass on to the happy hunting grounds.

Do you think that we, as shooters, have enough time to wait for the natural cycle of replacement to happen?

As my buddy and I were saying to each other, golf would never survive if golfers treated newbies like so many shooting cliques treat newbies. And there aren't any congress critters and politicians wanting to shut down all golf courses, and ban the private ownership of clubs, balls, and tees.