A Very Savage Christmas

This year, as with the previous years in this house, we had a great time together as a family. My co-workers pitched in to cover my 12 hour shift so I could be with the family instead of watching monitors blink my life force away. I spent five days at home in a row which let me get caught up on a lot of chores I’ve been meaning to do; the garage is much safer for humans now.

I was up, along with many (perhaps the majority) other parents of young kids, stuffing stockings and laying out Santa’s gifts. That old fucker gets credit for my hard work…. Now Krampus is a mythical character I can get on board with. Look him up…  Anyway, we stacked it all out there and the boxes didn’t seem to stop; I wonder every year when I will be able to tone it down in a way that nobody is upset over.

I was pleased with the choices everyone made in the gifts I received; most things I received had either slipped my mind or I had neglected to ask for due to their frivolous nature. I like to get things that are immediately useful and at least somewhat warrant the givers’ efforts.

Many things I was fortunate enough to get were ones meeting the above criteria and a few were just because I wanted them. I will use the gunsmithing supplies to hone my skills and make some old firewood-quality weapons into something worth owning. My wife got me checkering tools to help restore the heavily worn areas on my uncle’s rifle and my friend Jeremy got me a glass bedding kit to make another rifle even more worthy at the range. In the end, none of these things were bought to allow me to do my work. They were bought to make me happy. Mission accomplished…. For real this time though.

I also got a gift card from my mother in law so I could buy my camping stove, but that was just my poor man’s method of doing Parkerizing and Bluing so instead I’ll whip up some proper stands to heat the liquid and apply the finish in the right way. Everyone helping me get my start is a great thing. Even though it may take many years, I am not suffering now; I have a good job and can manage all my tasks even if it means some extra hours.

My older son was inundated with gifts as usual and I hope he understands a little of the reasons he has what he has. I tried to make the point to him about each time we go out to eat at Red Robin or another fast food place, that it means I have to spend X number of hours at work to pay for that short period of time. Putting that into perspective for my son also did the same for me and accordingly I have stopped buying anything I don’t need; liquor, beer and eating out are at the top of the list there.

I’m not sure if it’s good or bad, but the last few days, when I think of something I want, I consider “Is it worth the X hours I will spend earning this money” and the answer has been “no” every single time. I’m not entirely sure what that is telling me, but it is certainly something. It’s not good to qualify everything in life, but the timing belt on the Subaru is a lot more important to me than a few bottles of scotch and a dozen trips to eat out over a 3 month period. Seriously, just think about that…   Between the Wifebot and I, we have sacrificed a lot and are still not even close to being bad off.

This is a long post.. sorry….  

~End

Tragedy, a Pistol and a Bent Gas Block...

Back story: A guy I know recently lost his brother to a tragic accident involving alcohol and a gun. He and his girlfriend were enjoying their night together and having some drinks when the pistol somehow discharged and killed the man. The surviving brother has been dealing with all the arrangements to save his parents the added heartache.

So, the guy (I'll call him Joe) has his brother's possessions and has been trying to dispose of them in a respectful and useful manner. The pistol which killed his brother has since been destroyed and he is left with one more pistol to get rid of. Enter me....

Joe knows I am trying to cut my teeth as a gunsmith and one day after the accident he asked me "Jack, will you do me a favor and not drink when you're working on guns?" Of course I told him I won't handle loaded guns while drunk and he seemed content. Well, over the next couple weeks, Joe seemed to be handling the loss better and returned to his normal happy self. One day he told me he had an old M4 carbine (Bushmaster XM-15E2) style rifle with a bent front sight and gas block and needed it fixed.

Of course, I offered to do the work for him, but we never discussed the price at all. He also noted off-hand about the Smith and Wesson pistol of his brother's that "I don't care if I get two hundred bucks for it, I want it gone" and this made me think a little more. I have been wondering, would I be wrong to offer to replace the part on his rifle in trade for the pistol? No money has to change hands, he gets his rifle working again, gets rid of a hurtful memory and I get another gun to sell off or trade. Good or bad?

I don't want to take advantage of anyone here, so I will tread lightly into this conversation. Worst case is that he'll say no.

Walking Contradiction

I could have sworn I have written about this already, but I suppose not…. Better now than never.

     Today, a 22 year-old girl at work said something like “I never would have pictured you as a (The)Devil Wears Prada fan”, as I was listening to their new album. This brought to mind another conversation and overall a culmination of my traits that make me into one odd character in some peoples’ eyes. So, I am a father, husband, car enthusiast, gun collector, aspiring gunsmith, war protester, an environmentally-conscious hiker and camper and do enjoy a game of Starcraft II from time to time.

     Here is the part that weirds people out: After my past life, many people expect me to be a chest thumping, Right-wing, gun-snuggling, patriotic warmonger… this is so far from the truth that it’s hilarious. I think personal freedom should be the number one most important thing in anyone’s life; I could care less if someone likes to do recreational drugs or wants to vote a certain way. I love my garden, my chickens (the two remaining ducks can go fuck themselves), my camping gear and my iPhone. Any of these things seem to clash against the “norm” yet? They don’t to me, but I get called out a lot.

     I am clean cut (mostly) and dress in a low-attention style and am usually armed to the teeth with a pistol and at least 7 rounds of hollow-point ammunition. I love to play poker or pool, but I’m only lucky at both. Watching MMA fights once in a while is fun and spending time with my family is the most important thing to me. Man, this is sounding like a pointless post… ugh.

     Anyway, as I stack up all my interests I can almost draw a comic that would be fitting for The Oatmeal. It would look something like this:

     I would be the guy with an assault rifle (or two) slung, with chickens walking around him while I work in the garden. I’d have headphones in and be listening to some metal-core band or The Joe Rogan Experience podcast (listen to it!). Around me would be my family and maybe a fire in the burn pit. I’d have a craft beer such as Deschutes Jubleale or Dogfish Head (damn, how ‘bout those name drops) 90 minute IPA sitting near me. It sounds like something you’d never see at a hippie convention, but I’d get along okay there. Maybe I’ll take a crack at a comic… nah.. probably won’t happen.