Style

Style? What is style?

I used to be a young buck a few years back, and I packed the latest tactical hardware. Back then, it was called Beretta. Mel Gibson carried it in Lethal Weapon, and the military had finally wisened up and gotten rid of that obsolete WW1 pistol for a modern Beretta. I had one too. Glock and HK were the dark force in polymer avant-guard in those days.

I would see the old fogies chomping cigars and shooting their six guns at the range. I would scare my targets half to death with hails of ammo peppering the entire area of the paper. I left no 4X4 inch area unshot. Dadgum I was good! I didn't want to talk about those old men targets. Heck, all they could do was shoot one hole. They were wasting a heck of a lot of target out there. They chomped cigars. I sprayed and prayed. I was, however, in style, at least as depicted in Hollywood.

Over time, I learned to love that old WW1 pistol the military had eschewed. Then I learned to love wide, empty spaces of unshot target and single holes in the center. The next thing I knew, I was fondling a blued S&W P&R sixgun. My fate was sealed. I had grey in my beard. I haven't started to smoke cigars though. After all, I don't want to be "in style"!