Superreverb
Member
aka: "Circling the Drain." Those were the words he used today. The Old Man came right out and said, "I'm circling the drain." And, yeah, it's getting to me - and I'm drinkin' right now so if ya don't wanna read it, move on...
It's all about the guns, really - only thing that means as much to him as family - The Guns. It started out slow 'bout 2 years ago, "Why don'tcha come on over. I'm getting tired of the National Match Model 70. I figured you might want to take and shoot it for a while."
Before that, about 10-years ago, it was his Trap gun: The 1966 870-TC with the 34" tube - I realized then that he had no realistic idea about ever shooting again, 'cept for some .22 plinking in my basement at the Silver Spring house (now sold).
The Model 70 was a dream, man. I brought it out to the weekly Geezer Squad meeting at PGC and passed her around - nice.
Then came the Parkers. I figured he'd be buried with those, if not for comfort and sport in the after-life, then at least to tweak my balls and keep me from having them
I've got them both, now, and the 20-ga, "Mary Louise," is my favorite shottie. Like she was built just for me, I go after the target and it's like pointing my finger and going "BANG" and the target breaks...
The Sauer 16-ga, same-same, etc., etc., ad infinitum.
Two weeks ago, it was his much adored and constantly finger-diddled 1948 Winchester Model 70 in 270WCF - a really nice transitional piece.
Two days ago, it was his prized 1917 UFH Springfield bayo that was his parade piece at the Infantry School at Benning when he came back from Korea in '51 and they put him on "Show-dog" detail showing young draftees and recruits how a "real soldier does it...."
And then there's today.
"I'm circling the drain...."
"Stop by here on your way home from North Carolina on Sunday."
"What for, Pop?"
"I want you to take the 101."
"The 28?"
"Yeah - my pride and joy. I've got alot tied up in that gun and it's just sittin' hangin' on the wall"
"You're sure? You know I'm gonna shoot the crap out of it if you give it to me, right?"
"Yeah - I'm counting on it...."
She's mint - probably unfired. 28-ga Winchester 101; 28" bbls. Gorgeous.
But I don't want it. Don't even want to shoot it.
It's his gun. His favorite. I want him to shoot it. I want him to keep it. I want him to stick around a bit longer....
We shooters are a breed. A family. Hell, most of us even say "shoot" instead of "sh#@."
Today's not a good day for me, nor for The Old Man.
sh#@.....
It's all about the guns, really - only thing that means as much to him as family - The Guns. It started out slow 'bout 2 years ago, "Why don'tcha come on over. I'm getting tired of the National Match Model 70. I figured you might want to take and shoot it for a while."
Before that, about 10-years ago, it was his Trap gun: The 1966 870-TC with the 34" tube - I realized then that he had no realistic idea about ever shooting again, 'cept for some .22 plinking in my basement at the Silver Spring house (now sold).
The Model 70 was a dream, man. I brought it out to the weekly Geezer Squad meeting at PGC and passed her around - nice.
Then came the Parkers. I figured he'd be buried with those, if not for comfort and sport in the after-life, then at least to tweak my balls and keep me from having them
I've got them both, now, and the 20-ga, "Mary Louise," is my favorite shottie. Like she was built just for me, I go after the target and it's like pointing my finger and going "BANG" and the target breaks...
The Sauer 16-ga, same-same, etc., etc., ad infinitum.
Two weeks ago, it was his much adored and constantly finger-diddled 1948 Winchester Model 70 in 270WCF - a really nice transitional piece.
Two days ago, it was his prized 1917 UFH Springfield bayo that was his parade piece at the Infantry School at Benning when he came back from Korea in '51 and they put him on "Show-dog" detail showing young draftees and recruits how a "real soldier does it...."
And then there's today.
"I'm circling the drain...."
"Stop by here on your way home from North Carolina on Sunday."
"What for, Pop?"
"I want you to take the 101."
"The 28?"
"Yeah - my pride and joy. I've got alot tied up in that gun and it's just sittin' hangin' on the wall"
"You're sure? You know I'm gonna shoot the crap out of it if you give it to me, right?"
"Yeah - I'm counting on it...."
She's mint - probably unfired. 28-ga Winchester 101; 28" bbls. Gorgeous.
But I don't want it. Don't even want to shoot it.
It's his gun. His favorite. I want him to shoot it. I want him to keep it. I want him to stick around a bit longer....
We shooters are a breed. A family. Hell, most of us even say "shoot" instead of "sh#@."
Today's not a good day for me, nor for The Old Man.
sh#@.....
