You'll Shoot Your Eye Out
What's my opinion on guns? Well, seeing as how growing up, I was ALWAYS around them, I don't really have any problem with them. I have pictures of me holding a .22 rifle at a crazy-young age. My dad was a sniper in the Vietnam War, so he's always been really into shooting. So I learned gun safety at a young age. My dad's pretty much always had a rifle range of some sort on his land, so I got used to the sound of gun fire.
However. Then when I started getting a little older, I'd say about middle to high school age, I went into this phase where I thought guns were barbaric, killing animals was cruel, and I basically went into all-out rebellion against anything I considered "redneck". Yes, I was basically a hippie. Just with boot-cut jeans rather than bell bottoms and less leaning toward free love (and drugs. remember? high on living?). So anyway, that kind of carried out for a while. Then I went and got married and moved to California for four years. Over the course of that time that was sprinkled with yearly visits home, I saw Brandon's interest in shooting begin to blossom. And I realized, you know what? Who am I to deny my roots? My very gun-friendly, southern roots? I don't think killing animals is cruel as long as you're doing it for a good reason. Like thinning the numbers (a deer ran into my car once) or killing them for food. And shooting is fun, and actually takes more thought than one might imagine. Scopes and zeroing-in rifles is complicated, yo.
So anyway, all that to say, Brandon now owns a rifle. My dad got him one for Christmas - a left-handed one, at that. He gave it to him over Thanksgiving. We're keeping it at my dad's house because for one, our apartment is small and I don't know that the gun would mesh well, but for another, it's a long-range rifle, so it might be hard saying that we had it for protection. Generally, if someone is coming at you from 300 yards away, they're not really considered a threat. Silly, I know.
On to naming the rifle. Much like naming your car, one must name their rifle. My dad suggested an indian (or Native American) name, since it's a Savage brand rifle. I suggested Smoking Gun. Brandon at first suggested Sacagawea, but then after shooting the gun, changed his preference to Kickin' Wing. The name comes from Joe Dirt, but is most appropriate because the gun kicks.
Anyway, I guess this adds to Brandon's points when it comes to being an honorary southerner. Don't worry. Charlton Heston isn't his president. Yet.
However. Then when I started getting a little older, I'd say about middle to high school age, I went into this phase where I thought guns were barbaric, killing animals was cruel, and I basically went into all-out rebellion against anything I considered "redneck". Yes, I was basically a hippie. Just with boot-cut jeans rather than bell bottoms and less leaning toward free love (and drugs. remember? high on living?). So anyway, that kind of carried out for a while. Then I went and got married and moved to California for four years. Over the course of that time that was sprinkled with yearly visits home, I saw Brandon's interest in shooting begin to blossom. And I realized, you know what? Who am I to deny my roots? My very gun-friendly, southern roots? I don't think killing animals is cruel as long as you're doing it for a good reason. Like thinning the numbers (a deer ran into my car once) or killing them for food. And shooting is fun, and actually takes more thought than one might imagine. Scopes and zeroing-in rifles is complicated, yo.
So anyway, all that to say, Brandon now owns a rifle. My dad got him one for Christmas - a left-handed one, at that. He gave it to him over Thanksgiving. We're keeping it at my dad's house because for one, our apartment is small and I don't know that the gun would mesh well, but for another, it's a long-range rifle, so it might be hard saying that we had it for protection. Generally, if someone is coming at you from 300 yards away, they're not really considered a threat. Silly, I know.
On to naming the rifle. Much like naming your car, one must name their rifle. My dad suggested an indian (or Native American) name, since it's a Savage brand rifle. I suggested Smoking Gun. Brandon at first suggested Sacagawea, but then after shooting the gun, changed his preference to Kickin' Wing. The name comes from Joe Dirt, but is most appropriate because the gun kicks.
Anyway, I guess this adds to Brandon's points when it comes to being an honorary southerner. Don't worry. Charlton Heston isn't his president. Yet.
