Thanks & Welcome

To my new friend and follower, Robert Fowler. Robert writes the blog, Second Amendment March, a darn fine blog and I highly recommend all of my other fine friends to take a moment from your busy day and click and give him a visit.

Robert, I promise to always answer any comment you leave....it might take me a few hours and in some rare cases, days, but count on it, I shall answer. If for some odd reason I miss any comment let me know and I'll correct my oversight.

Again, Robert, thank you and welcome. You are now among friends.

Stephen

The Gang & The Gunshow

Just now home from church and fried chicken. Sweet Wife is happy. This is the third time in a month she's tricked me into attending a brick and mortar church.  I've been a good boy- didn't say a word during any of the services. I simply slipped my Kindle out and read, elbow or no elbow.

*****

Yesterday was fun. Our group gathered at a local gunshow. The cast of characters included, yours truly and my Sweet Wife. (At first she declined. Then she was informed our good friend, Jacked Up Glock Mom planned to escort her husband, Senior Chief, so Sweet Wife quickly changed her mind.) Along with our other best friends, Pirate Jim, and Rebel, we had a six pack.

Two of our group missed out - Duke, away on vacation, and Shooter Steve. Shooter Steve is a newly wed and has yet mastered the ability to check his email so missed out on a great gunshow and lunch. He's young and I'm sure in time he'll learn.

We gathered at the door of the venue at 0900, after of course, we disarmed. Ironic isn't it...one must first unload their concealed weapons to attend a gun show. So I walk inside with two full magazines attached to my belt.

The ladies went left, the guys right.

Gunshows smell good, at least to me. The scent of oil and wood and leather fills the air. I love the racks of old firearms and the bits and pieces of gear and spare parts, cleaning rods and brushes and countless AR grips. Old slings and trench knives with the odd sun bleached olive drab ammo pouches.

We took our time, ambled along. The prices were very high, almost ridiculous. I've attended many shows in my lifetime, more than I can count, and I've never seen prices reach such levels. Most, I dare say, high retail.  My expectations of a deal died quickly. My want list was small when I approached the door, it quickly shrank. The list included a lower, a few spare AR parts, perhaps some ammo along with .50 caliber ammo cans, and books.

I scored on three out of five. I did find a Ragnar Benson.

As you can see above, I also found a Spikes lower. I did find a few PMS lowers but the dealer was a pawn shop owner and was awful proud of his inventory, so I passed.

My good friend, Pirate Jim, stumbled across a nice M1. He's a collector of vintage military rifles. Its a fine disease. He paid and took his new baby home. Sweet Wife said of Pirate Jim, "He's so sweet. Look how he's holds his rifle. Just like a baby." I thought, 'Well heck yes, why shouldn't he.'

Above, Pirate Jim stands next to a display of gun culture themed books.

At one point Rebel and I came upon a display of private arms. I've noticed over the last few years dealers will proudly display 'private sale' signs on their booths. Loop holes be damned. I've also noticed their booths are knee deep in business. As we checked out this dealer's inventory Rebel spotted a nice little Revelation pump .410, the prefect little squirrel weapon. He and the dealer bickered a bit and Rebel walked away with a fine little Mossberg built shotgun. Pump .410's are fairly scarce. Revelation was a Western Auto store brand.

Above a display of .300 Blackout barrels and lowers. Local manufacturer. Senior Chief's next AR build.

At one point, as I filled out a 4473, Rebel walked over and asked if I wanted a piece of action in a bulk ammo can purchase. Said, yes. The dealer wanted ten dollars each. We checked each seal, stacked the cans, and smiled all afternoon. I walked away with five.

I'll take a step into dangerous territory - ready....never, ever, take your wives to a gunshow.  As I've said, I took my time to stroll up and down each aisle. I was happy...then, the women began to complain. They're hungry. Their backs hurt. Their feet were sore. I've yet to take in half the show. Guess what.

We ignored them. Above, Pirate Jim and his new baby. Displayed on the table, Rebel's .410.

Then, the women came back and slapped us. Above, my Sweet Wife. If you look closely you'll see she has a little AR-15 ink pen, a gift to me. She's clutches other secret booty. I've found it best to hold tight to my wallet.

And, above, my wallet next to a sack which holds a .22 conversion kit. Notice the price.

The women finally won. The gang followed Rebel's jeep to lunch. During lunch the rain's began to fall.

I'm rich with friends.

Stephen

A Weekend Off

Just home from a Mexican dinner with Sweet Wife. I'm stuffed. I was allowed my one Corona. She was nice to me tonight.

I'm taking the weekend off. I'm tired, wore out, whupped, and whipped. All my friends along with yours truly shall take our place at the front door of a local gunshow tomorrow morning at 0900. I haven't a need for another firearm so shall seek out the little things. I need a new AR multi-tool. I'll look for small parts, perhaps another well made lower for another build; I hear Palmetto State has made a name for itself with their careful craftsmanship and attention to detail on their basic lowers...we'll see. At less than eighty dollars and without a shipping cost its a fine deal.

Since I skipped the last gunshow I'll get another chance to browse for a few books too. Maybe fill in my Ragnar Benson collection. There is a chance I'll make an ammunition purchase, not sure.

*****

I hate the Olympics....let's keep this between us.

*****

It's time to break out my Kindle. I'd like to reread Unintended Consequences once more for old times sake. Take care my friends, and sometime late tomorrow I'll tell you about all the fun and adventure we had at the gunshow.

Stephen

So This Guy Walks

Into my shop, steps aside for a moment then he asked, "Hey, is it okay if I bring a couple of items inside?"

I love it when they ask me that question.

Said, "Sure. We still live in a semi-free country."  He steps back out and walks inside with a box and two firearms wrapped in a large towel.

I take the firearms and box from him. Two rifles, both .22 caliber. I immediately sit one aside and gently take the other rifle and give it a good once over...what was it that fella said about Obama, the quiver up and down his leg thing...anyway without further ado I asked, "How much?"

As he's forming his reply I glance inside the box. It holds, along with two magazines, several boxes of vintage (to you) boxes of ammunition. Some Remington Hi-Speed .22's in short, long, and long rifle. Two boxes of Western Super-X, a couple of odd ball brands, and a partial box of paper 12 guage  #5 shot Remington shells. If you're a collector of vintage boxed ammo you know how I felt.

One of the rifles is a beautiful 1930's era Remington Model 24. The other, a Harrington & Richardson Model  865 'Plainsman,' junk. I asked again, "What do you want?"

He shuffles, looks around, then said, "Well, really I need fifty bucks."

I gave him my look - all cool don't 'ya know. Said, "Listen, this rifle," and I place my hand on the H&R, "Is junk and I don't need nor want it. The bolt doesn't work correctly and its either missing the firing pin or its locked up tight. It'll need more work than its worth. Right back at me, "It's a package deal. I need to get rid of them."

Days like this just try my soul.

"Are you sure and firm with your price. I do like the old ammo boxes. They're kinda cute."

He said, "I understand, but yes, I want fifty dollars for all of it."

I let him win. I'm nice like that.

Stephen

Just a Short Note

To let you nice and wonderful folks know I'll try and get back at you tomorrow. It's been a long hard day. Most of it spent at my desk writing checks with paperwork scattered around its surface. All that in between dealing with the customers.

My day is made even more difficult when certain guys insist in idle chit-chat, they darn near talk me to death. I'll stand there swaying foot to foot, my dance of escape, in a vain effort to escape and continue my work...and still they stand and chat. Bless 'em though, I do need their business. I'm awful at idle chit-chat.

I'd also like to take this opportunity to say thank you. Thank you all for the kind and generous comments left on my piece, 'Just An Old Pair of Boots.' You humble me.

Think I'll pass out now, and pray for a peaceful nights sleep.

God bless you each and everyone.

Stephen

One of These Days

I shall surprise my lovely wife with this morning view.

She has asked for a Tuscan visit for years.

Guess it's time for me to dust off my passport.

Stephen

Thanks & Welcome

I'd like to extend a warm welcome and thanks to DaveDog and Mr. Miracle for taking the time to hit my little blue follower button.

My new friends I promise to always answer your comments. It sometimes takes me a few hours, and on rare occasions, days, but I will leave a reply.

If, for some odd reason, I fail to answer please let me know. I'm funny that way.

Again, thank you and welcome. You are now among friends.

Stephen