Life on the Road – Trucking News Blog

dangerous? Hey, let’s start 2009 right. Buy a firearm. The photo is of an HK 9mmX19/.40. I have no idea what that means exactly, but I was impressed. Case included. Bullets extra. Extra clips $50/each. Total cost? Let’s just say, it wasn’t cheap.

After decades of watching 007 (James Bond), Dirty Harry, the Godfather and Schwarzenegger, I now possessed similar firepower as they used in their action movies. And even though this particular weapon is not mine – it belongs to my son  - by taking me to the local range for Christmas to experience mano a mano what’s it like to terminate (like that spy lingo?) a paper target, I have already began the New Year with a unique experience under my belt.

Have you EVER fired a gun? Yes – No? For the No folks, it is like firing a mini cannon. It is obviously powerful. Scary at first. VERY loud. A kind of  ”explosion” happens every time you press the triggger. You can see the fire come out of the barrel. And, you MUST concentrate. My son is an excellent instructor. Standing right behind me, he knew what I was about to do wrong and let me do it. That, I’m told, is how one learns – by experience. So fire, fire, fire. Stop. I’m a little shaky. I feel a trickle down my thumb. Blood. I wasn’t holding the gun properly. The hard metal from the recoil slit the base of my thumb.

“Use two hands” my son says. “Want a band-aid?” Would Arnold need a band-aid? How whiny. I don’t want to be a “girly-boy.” ”Of course not”, I said, and just like men and shooters and hunters from years past I stuck my thumb in my mouth. Only then did I realize I’m standing there with a .40 cal HK serious dangerous weapon in one hand and my thumb in my mouth. It didn’t help matters that I was wearing some stupid hat that I grabbed leaving the house. I was having a bad hair day. My son didn’t say it, but right there and then I knew he was thinking – his father is a loon. He said, “their gonna throw you outta here!” I put the weapon down and moved aside to “let” him shoot a few clips while I nursed my thumb and whatever dignity I had left.

Before we got to the range – actually made famous by an American Express commercial back in the early 90′s – called Bill Jacksons – we went to Wal-Mart for bullets. The guy behind the counter must have worked at a Pilot T/S (truckstop) before he signed on for a new career path at Wally world. My son asked for Winchester this or Remington that – I’m really not sure – this grade or that – and something else about the end of the bullet, and the guy was lost.So was I. Time to call the department supervisor over – there were other folks stand there with questions about knives, other types of ammunition and someone who wanted a key made.

“They” finally found what we were looking for. “Can I see some ID please?” It was my gift card. Huh? An ID to use a nameless gift card? I left my wallet out in the truck. I just had the darn gift card. My son whispers in my ear: “it’s for the bullets!” For the bullets? I’m confused. I’m over 21. What the heck are you going to do with ID? Finally, the supervisor saw my dilemma and said it was OK to purchase the bullets without ID. Off we went to the shooting range.

Ok, so here are the results. My first try is the yellow balloon in the upper right hand corner of the target. Not too bad for a first timer. Second attempt – after the blood stopped – the balloon in the middle on the top row. One shot close to dead center. And finally, my last clip – the yellow balloon third row down in the middle – one up from the bottom. Even better. This is all at about 20 feet. I’m feel’n good about how I shot – shoot? Whatever. Better than my bowling.

Now let me say something. I know guns are serious business. I don’t mean to make light of any of it. Guns and rifles have been in my family for a long time. My father never wanted any part of it. His brother, my uncle, was a furrier. He traveled all over the world to hunt. Wyoming was one of his favorite places.  From the look of the  walls in his home, he pretty much shot anything that had fur and moved. Four legs, two legs – it didn’t matter. There were fish and birds as well. I believe the largest animal he killed was a huge brown bear, evidenced by the large rug (with the stuffed head attached) in the center of his living room. And I love bears! I don’t say he was wrong or right, and it was not my place to judge him.

I would like to go back to the range with my son. I know he can teach me more. I don’t know if I would buy a gun or rifle. Right now, I can’t afford any of it. I’m having enough trouble with the slow freight just paying my mortgage. I think I would like to go on a hunting trip somewhere with him for deer or boar. Maybe one day, before I get to old, I hope I’ll be able to afford that.

Oh, by the way, Mrs. Grumpy, when I met her, did keep a shotgun under her bed. Do you have any gun experiences you’d like to share? Look forward to ya’ll’s comments. Happy New Year and good shooting! – or rock climbing, sky diving, skiing, flying, ball0oning, or even becoming a truck driver.

PS/I wouldn’t suggest you keep a weapon in your truck. Not a good idea. Forget going into Canada. Many states don’t allow it. Keep it home in a safe. And take an ARA – American Rifle Association – safe gun course. Their web site is http://www.nra.org/ – and – visit here for more information about guns in commercial vehicles - http://www.askthetrucker.com/cdl-federal-gun-law/

Photos by V Grumpy and Grumpy Son.