03 June 2006

Masculine Day

The afternoon was warm and sunny. I reclined in the passener's seat of David's car; soft rock played in the background as David and Jeremy laughed about my shooting skills. Knowing they were probably right, I smiled and laughed along with their banter. It had been a couple of years since I'd handled a gun and I wasn't even expecting to hit the targets. We laughed about all the other things I'd hit instead -- dirt, trees, woodland creatures, by-standers, etc.

After our arrival and purchase of targets, we set up at the pistol range and David began educating (once again) on how to use a pistol (of which I do not remember the name). It was heavy and had quite a kick -- I did well to hold on. I did not hit the target, but made tunnels in the dirt instead. No surprise. The next pistol was a Walther P22, much easier to handle. David put up a target for each of us to have a competition of sorts. (In my opinion, that's like pitting a kindergartener against highschool kids.) My turn came and I fired a few shots, wincing in concentration.

"Oh my gosh," David commented. "That's a bullseye... dead center too."

"Really?" I lowered the pistol. Sure enough -- a bullseye.

"Yeah, but the rest of your shots probably aren't even on the target," David laughed. Brothers keep you humble.

After a few more rounds with the three pistols David brought, we took the AK-47 to the rifle range. Jer and Dave went first to demonstrate how to fire it before it was my turn. I was absolutely terrified of the thing, seeing the way it threw Jer back. I gingerly took the AK-47, letting David coach me on how to hold it.

"Don't even worry about aiming at anything right now. Just practice shooting it first," Dave coached. I winced in anticipation before pulling the trigger. BANG.

"Ouch." My shoulder will feel those five rounds in the morning. The man next to us was watching the whole time.

"Would ya like to use this, little lady?" he offered one of his rifles, a WW2 replica of a 30-caliber M1 Carbine manufactured by Springfield. "It doesn't have as much of a kick to it."

"Um, sure... thanks."

By then, the moderator had dropped by (I like to call him "the warden") and all three men -- David, the guy next to us, and the warden -- were coaching me on how to properly hold the gun. I felt a little silly and childish, but accepted the multitude of advice before aiming at the 40-yard target.
Here I go. BANG.

"Whoah," remarked the warden. I didn't take notice of where I shot, assuming I hit the dirt again and he was saying
Whoah due to my extraordinarily poor aim. BANG.

"D**n," he remarked again.
Thanks, am I that bad? BANG.

"Oh my G**," the warden exclaimed after the third shot. Part of me wanted to turn around and say "Please stop swearing and taking the name of the Lord in vain," and another part wanted to say "Will you please shut up about my bad aim?!"

"Look at that," he pointed out. "She shot three bullseyes in a row!" Yeah, right... oh, hey... sure enough, I did. By now "the guys" were impressed with the ignorant blonde who looked like she had no idea what she was doing with a gun. (Indeed, I'm not sure I did know what I was doing.)

"You know," pointed out the man next to us, "Ya oughtta get that little lady a [blah blah]." (I can't remember the name of the rifle.)

We fired a few more rounds with the AK-47 before heading home. By then it was very hot and all of us were getting sunburned. Jer and I took my car to town to rent some movies at Blockbuster with some coupons I had. Jeremy wanted to get a video game (of course) but since I was paying, we got three WW2 movies instead. I have this thing for WW2 movies that uphold sacrifice, honor, and chivalry. Call me old-fashioned or weird. Gripping, gory war movies are also the only kind that make me cry. While most women cry at When Harry Met Sally and he Notebook, I cry at Saving Private Ryan and Gladiator.

So today was a masculine day -- hanging out with my brothers, shooting guns, watching war movies, etc. -- my ways of venting not-so-feminine aggression.


At 03 June, 2006 20:29, Blogger мαdd said...

Rofl Carey. I was directed here by your mom, surprisingly.
Wow. I've never used a gun before. Jesse has one, but the replacement part is vital and on perminiant backorder. xD So yeah. No guns. But wow, it sounds like fun.

At 04 June, 2006 04:59, Blogger The IBEX Scribe said...

:) I like Gladiator. I like Civil War movies, though, when I need a good cinematic war fix. Gods and Generals and Gettysburg are definitely high on the list, but I think I might own a few others as well.

I don't think I ever cried during When Harry Met Sally since I'm usually too busy laughing or thinking about how I probably shouldn't be enjoying a movie with THAT premise. But then I watch Office Space and laugh my way through, and it is certainly no better...

At 04 June, 2006 09:13, Blogger Carey said...

Katy, my mom said she got to talk to you on the IM. She's praying for you too. :-)

Angie, I like Civil War movies too, but I'd have to say when I need a war fix it's either middle ages or WW2. LOL, my older brother loves Office Space.

At 04 June, 2006 13:13, Blogger TheEarthCanBeMoved said...

Springfeild M-1 is defenatly a cool weapon.
That's the one a spun when I was on Honor Guard.

At 04 June, 2006 14:35, Blogger Carey said...

Yeah, I really liked that one. If I bought a rifle, it would be a Springfield M-1.

At 04 June, 2006 17:53, Blogger Redeemed said...

Alright, Carey, that's my girl. I'm really impressed, way to show 'em guys!!!!

Sounds like you had a really good time though. Your brothers now know not to mess with you ;)

At 04 June, 2006 19:03, Blogger Consecrated said...

I am curious. What was this place you went to with your brothers?. Is that a shooting institute or something?

You really live in the wild west.

I don't think we have something similar over here in Quebec.

At 04 June, 2006 19:19, Blogger Carey said...

We do live in the wild west. Every true Texan owns at lest 3 guns. Haha. Almost everyone out here knows how to shoot a gun. We can even shoot tresspassers on our property legally! (Which would explain the bodies in our backyard...)

Leila, it's just an outdoor shooting range. They're all over the place in Texas.

At 05 June, 2006 07:01, Blogger Consecrated said...

This is neat. Wished we had something like that over here. May be our city would have been safer from the looters who are attaching the elderly.

The sad part is that the government advises us to surrender and keep quiet when thieves enter our homes to loot.

At 05 June, 2006 07:29, Blogger Carey said...

Oh, not here! No one would dare enter our house with my brothers and I -- and enough guns for a small army!

At 06 June, 2006 18:22, Blogger Consecrated said...

You'll have to meet my Pastor. He is from Alabama, a hill billy, he calls himself. Red neck if you like. He is hot tempered too.


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