The Christmas Party of Argghhh!

For those who don't follow She Who Buys Me Machineguns' saga this holiday season will have missed the fact that the Armorer usually has 5 pretty fun Christmas Parties in the season. My firm's, Beth's firm's, Rotary, the client's, and the sub-section of client's (the guys I actually work with day-to-day, vice the whole organization).

The client, being government, everybody pays out-of-pocket for those. Rotary, being a fund-raiser, ya pay some more (but it's still a fun party). The corporate parties are paid for by the firms, with mebbe a kicker for spouses. I hate doing parties stag. Really hate it. Suffice it to say that this year, SWWBO's travel schedule has prevented her from going to *any* parties, and all the money we paid for her to attend... well, ain't getting any of it back. There's a used Lee-Enfield rifle-equivalent of our cash gone back into the economy as donations...

I did attend the Rotary party, and while I put in an appearance at my company party, my heart wasn't in it, and rather than paste on a happy face, I left early. As in during the cocktail hour, *before* dinner, after I had made nice with the Senior People. I just couldn't force myself continue to be pleasant, and *that* would have been rude to everybody, just being a depressed lump at the table, tapping my fingers waiting for everything to end. So I left. I spent more time driving to and from than I spent at the party itself. Sometimes the Armorer just isn't a people person.

So why all this recitation of that doom and gloom? Simple. KCSteve to the rescue! Steve is a reader who lives in the KC area and is a member of Missouri Carry. He invited me to their local Christmas party, held last night at the Total Range complex in St. Joseph, Missouri (just north of here, for those not up on their regional geography).

It was odd, being among a bunch of people who *really* know their modern stuff, given that the Armorer thinks anything younger than 35 or so years of age is a punk. I saw some *very* nice carry pieces, target pieces, a combat shotgun... all in hands of nice, polite, but *very* serious people. Steve's wife was there, and she's a live wire... Steve, like me, is a large, scary man with a beard. Unlike me, he's married to a very petite woman (SWWBO is *regular* sized). A very petite woman who likes to shoot her pistol... with a laser on it... and that laser dot doesn't move very much at all. I only wish I was as steady as she is... for those who remember the Lethal Weapon movie with Mel Gibson's character shooting the happy face on the target? This pistol-packin' momma can actually do it...

The range can take hiigh-powered rifles (though I didn't ask about .50's), and they have a combat shooting range inside - a shoot house. And they do force-on-force in there, too, with training ammo. That might be fun, if I get to feelin' the need to get shot at again. Definitely a venue under consideration for the Blog Shoot of Arggghhh! this spring.

I won the nonexistent prize for oldest weapon. Being the Armorer, I took something historical. In this case, Georg, the Luger.

For an 87 year old guy, Georg shoots pretty well, hampered only by the fact that his assistant isn't anywhere near as good as he is. No jams, functioned flawlessly with American Eagle fmj fodder, at 20 yards. For such a stubby barrel, Georg ain't too bad, though he takes a while to reload. Yeah, yeah, I know, get a loading tool. Heh. All of us older guys take a while to reload... but I digress.

The flyers in the 7 and 8 ring are all me in rapid fire. The trend left is a function of my glasses and lighting. I was paying attention to what I was doing with the trigger finger and grip. Shooting wearing progressive lenses is a challenge. If I was shooting competively, I'd get purpose made glasses for respective ranges.

For shooting bad guys in the parking lot at night... I think I have it down, even if I can't do a happy face.