Ask Questions Later
I went shooting recently. Proper shooting - 12 bore double-barrelled shotgun shooting. I have a very sore shoulder from it still, but it’s a good feeling.
As with all adventures, the more fun they are, the more sedate the instructors. I don’t mind this, I’m just making an observation.
When you go for your first flying lesson, you have a guy who is as calm as he is collected while he tells you about ailerons and thermals and he answers questions by saying: “That’s correct.” And: “If it’s necessary, yes.”
What you don’t want when you’re taking control of an aircraft or a firearm is a caffeinated Australian going: “Aw yeah, mate, go for your life. Here’s a case of ammo-o.”
I don’t know why I picked on Australians just then, it’s just they seem bubbly and informal, but it’s not the kind of reassurance I’d want to keep me the right side of life or death.
And guns kill. The instructor said that. He described how the shot scatters and what it would do to a person, which I already knew, but it really made me want to shoot a tree just to see what would happen. To the tree, I mean. I know what would happen to me, and it would involve the instructor being a lot less sedate.
The instructor said people like shooting because adults are just big kids, the difference being that grown-ups can pay attention and follow instructions. Then he said something about safety catches and stuff maybe about loading but I was busy looking at the shiny cartridges in the ammunition cases. Blah blah blah - is it my go yet?
Like most men, I will pretent I know more about guns than I do. In the same way I will pretend I know less about Patrick Swayze than I do. It’s just a front. I’m regular, but believe me - shooting a gun is fun. They are heavy, they feel nice, all brushed thick steel and walnut, they go bang and they have an impact. It’s almost grotesque how much power you have in your control, and for that reason, even imagining pointing a gun at a person feels revolting.
But smashing a clay pigeon to smitherines as it flies by at forty miles an hour, thirty feel from where you’re standing? It feels great.
I don’t have to overcompensate my liberal credentials here, partly because I don’t really have many, but it’s satisfying. I’m a big kid at heart. I can fly and I can shoot and most superheroes can only do one of those.
April 21st, 2008 at 9:18 am
Shooting is great, yeah.
I was trained by the Royal Air Force to be able to shoot the spuds off a fly at 300 yards. A completely useless skill in civvy street, unless there’s a call for trained snipers in the field of journalism. In which case, I’d have the market cornered.
April 21st, 2008 at 2:24 pm
Those poor clay pigeons! What did they ever do to you to warrrant their total wanton destruction, with glee?
April 21st, 2008 at 3:37 pm
They start ‘em young in the Midwest. I took Hunter’s Education when I was 12. Y’know, I can’t remember much of that course. But the rifles were a bit intimidating. Especially when a hyped up kid is playing around pointing it at you. For fun, of course.
April 22nd, 2008 at 1:24 am
How comes your shoulder is sore and not your hip, Cliff?