In reference to my title on this one, if you haven’t seen Oh, Brother Where Art Thou, get thee to the movie kiosk or the Netflix stream, or whatever flavor of movie rental you prefer!

I believe it was the first Christmas Jenni and I were together. We were recently married and had not known each other for very long in the grand scheme of things. Many people were betting against our success, and it was hard to blame them. In the first year of our marriage, we bought a house, had a kid, and our net income put us comfortably in the poverty bracket. I wouldn’t trade that year for anything.

I’ve got sensitive facial skin. Gillette ought to run the census, because their demographic intel is incredible! When I got to about shaving age in my teens, I started getting Mach 5’s in the mail. They were useless to me. None of those multi-blade monstrosities have been any good on my face, but lead to endless razor burn and breakouts. I found that Grandpa’s old safety razor made for a beautifully close shave without side-effects, but I was not comfortable using it. Teenage boys are not well-known for their minute dexterity, and it took me half and hour and several cuts to get a shave with the thing. So, I went electric. In my adolescence, I had an electric shaver that served me well, even if it didn’t ever shave very close.

Then, on that first Christmas of my marriage, my new wife gave me a really nice Panasonic wet/dry electric shaver. I might add that she doesn’t particularly like me to wear facial hair. Now, that would make the little shaver 11.5 years old. It has served me well for over a decade. But, in the last few months, its performance has suffered. The battery would need to be charged more often, and the blades were showing clearer signs of their age. A couple of weeks ago, it finally deteriorated to the point of uselessness.

I was shaving one morning, and the old motor was giving its hum, albeit a few steps lower in pitch than when it was younger. When I got to the tougher whiskers on my chin, rather than being cut, they got jammed between the blades and the screen, and pulled hard. No amount of turning the switch off would make the shaver release its death grip on my facial hair. I wound up gritting my teeth and yanking the wayward device from my face. That was the final straw.

The Panasonic has gotten to the age that blades and batteries are no longer readily available, and would likely require a seal kit to install. I don’t even want to think about trying to obtain that! A new shaver would probably be a better option. It appears that this early gift from my young bride deserves a Viking funeral at long last. As Murphy’s Law would have it, a new shaver has exactly zero priority in my life right now, as we are pinching pennies in every conceivable way, with the start of the business and all. So, I took up Grandpa’s safety razor again.

I have a few blades for the antique razor, and when they run out, replacements are cheap. I didn’t realize exactly how dilapidated the Panasonic’s blades had gotten until using a real blade again. Where I was shaving every morning with the wet/dry, I can achieve similar results with three mornings a week using the safety razor. With the repetitive use, in my adult life, I’ve gotten a lot more efficient using the blade. What took thirty minutes as a goofy teen takes five now – and that’s with a whole lot more facial hair. I’m starting to think that I won’t own another electric, even when I am not feeling so thrifty again.

Over the last week or so, I’ve been a bit of a slug on grooming. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still showering and using deodorant. I just haven’t bothered to shave. Over the last couple of days, I was noticing that my head was getting a little fuzzier than I like it as well. So, this morning I decided to fix it. I got out the Wahl clippers and the #1 guard and went to town. I don’t often cut my own hair since it’s difficult to see whether I got it even in the back, but I thought that it would be far more likely to get done if I only had to ask Jenni to even up the back when she gets home from work.

Once I got all trimmed up, I looked really funny (to me anyway) as the hair on my head was roughly the same length as my stubble. So, out came Grandpa’s safety razor and I took care of that as well. Now, I look more like a respectable business man than an insane bum – always a good thing. Funny enough, I have not cut myself once in this round of using the old single blade. I’ve often mused about going to a straight razor, and I think I’d like to try that one day. The problem is that you don’t just need the razor, but all the peripheral stuff as well – the strop, stone, brush, cup, soap, etc. The initial investment is significant but well pays for itself in savings on supplies. There’s simply no cheaper way to shave in the long run. Until I do make such a jump, it appears that I’ll be using the old safety razor.

Need a chuckle? Go read this. Jen emailed me the link this morning. It’s pretty much all the same talking points of the anti-gun crowd warmed over again. The author holds to the psychotic principal that we can stop the criminals by making there actions even more illegal than ever before.

He alleges that violent gun crime is running rampant in America without citing figures (as they tend to do). In reference to our very well-documented arguments that concealed weapons do indeed reduce violent crime, I will paraphrase his counter-argument to a sophisticated “Nuh-uh!” He says that it is an illogical stance and that we should prevent criminals from getting guns. He prattles on with his “There ought to be a law” attitude, missing the point that thousands of existing, restrictive gun laws are not doing any good, and completely writes off the natural deterrent of would-be criminals risking their life to violate others. That’s natural law right there.

It drives me nuts when these morons refuse to see that the stuff that they want to be illegal already is. There are sick people in the world that will do sick things to other people. Period. He writes about “violence enacted by guns” as though the little suckers go gallivanting about of their own free will, just looking for someone to shoot. Guns do not kill people. Gun operators kill people. Whether out of malice or negligence, it takes human interaction for a gun to become lethal. Well, almost always. All jokes aside, the gun has no will of its own. It has no hate, malice, or danger to enact on anyone or anything.

It is illegal for criminals to have guns. Criminals are people who break the law and do illegal things. More laws won’t keep them from getting guns. The criminals will simply break more laws. Even if you could somehow magically wipe the guns off the face of the planet, the sick people out there would find other ways. A tire iron will kill a victim. A rope, a stick, a bowling pin, a barbell, or even a hammer or screwdriver. There is a video at that last link, but I don’t recommend watching it. It is very gory and given the choice, I’d rather be shot dead than go through what those teens did to that man. I made it about two minutes in and thought I was going to be sick. My point is that there are weapons all around us. Most of them are less than ideal, certainly not so much as a gun, but will do the job in a pinch. The gun is not the danger in crime – the will to do harm is the danger. Take away guns, they will use knives. Take away knives, they will use something else.

He goes on to describe the Brady Campaign as ‘non-partisan’. I find myself giggling at anyone gushing over the Bradys.

He then cites the Westside School shooting as evidence of his anti-gun stance, and to argue that there should be tougher penalties. What he fails to mention is that it was in no way legal for these children to have guns. They stole guns, possessed them underage, illegally transported them, took them to a banned location, and committed murder. How much more illegal does it need to be to keep such things from happening? My solution – arm the staff. Arm the parents. When the little turds open fire, sixth grade teacher Shannon Wright returns fire, and the shooters die instead of her along with Natalie Brooks (age eleven), Paige Ann Herring (age twelve), Stephanie Johnson (age twelve), and Brittheny Varner (age eleven). Beyond what these two boys did, it is criminal that the five deceased had no defense whatsoever. It violates their God-given right to further life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness, not to mention infringing their inalienable right to keep and bear arms.

Our author then cites the Binghamton NY shooting which claimed fourteen victims. Although a tragic case, it is another that suits the pro-gun argument far better. The shooter, Jiverly Voong could not legally obtain or possess guns. He had hardware that was not legal to possess in Binghamton (with upstate NY’s draconian gun laws). He transported illegally. Then, he committed murder. I wonder how many of those fourteen victims might be alive if there were a few good guys in the American Civic Association legally armed. I wonder if Voong would have bothered with his shooting if that had been a possibility.

This sentence is the real gem in the article that stands out to me:

Tragic calamities such as these beg the queWhy was an illegal immigrant able to obtain such deadly weapons so readily?

It’s actually a very good question. The answer is that when people are committed to a goal, they will find a way to achieve it. The United States is not unique in having a very healthy black market for guns. In fact, there are black market guns in countries where guns are completely banned from private possession.

The bottom line is this: Bad people do bad things. No amount of legislation is going to cure bad people. No amount of disarmament is going to fix them. At some point, the most reasonable solution is a .45-caliber slug in the brain stem. Guns are expensive. Ammunition prices grow faster than grass it seems. A good holster is worth its weight in gold, though I don’t charge that much. Training and practice take time and money. They are still far cheaper than trials for evil people, repeat offenses, and broken lives of innocent people. I pray to God that I never have to use my gun against another human being. But, I’m more willing to carry the scars from having taken another life than I am to bear the broken heart from losing my spouse or child, or to leave them without a husband and father.

If you want to do things that others have already done, dot them exactly like others have achieved their success. If you want to accomplish things that nobody else ever has, you may have to go about it in ways that no one has ever done before. There are moments in which it will seem like insanity. But, there is a narrow line between insanity and genius, or so I hear. I won’t claim either until I either firmly accomplish my goals or fail miserably. So far, everything is going well, thank God.

In order to make top-quality luxury products, you need three things; skill, tools, and materials. I’m not necessarily writing this as a tutorial or a how-to, but for personal introspect. No, this is not advice. I’m way too early in the game to give any. Hopefully, when I get to the other end of the tunnel, I will write pretty much this same thing as advice, and add, “This is how I did it.”

The tools are anything that enable you to physically produce, or allow you to produce more efficiently. There is an overlap between tools and skills. I’ve accumulated a couple of sewing machines that allow me to stitch everything from fine silk and lace all the way up to saddle and strap type leather.

There are multiple cutting systems in my arsenal that include specialized scissors and shears, rotary wheel cutter and mat, knives, skivers, and other blades. I have made several tools, and modified others. I’ve gone from free-handing patterns onto lined yellow legal pads with a pencil to precision drawings using graph paper and a protractor, and transferring that to other media to translate it to leather. I have two vastly different rulers, two measuring tapes and a tape measure – each that get used on a regular basis. My work requires dummy guns precision cast from plastic and aluminum. It is safe to assume that this will be an ongoing process of accumulation, and weeding out of tools that proved to not be as useful as I originally thought.

All the best tools in the world are themselves useless without the skills to operate them properly and effectively. Anyone can gain skills with practice and experimentation. There are only two ways to gain skills quickly – formal training or purposeful practice and experimentation. I’ve taken the route of the latter. If I don’t like how something has turned out, I figure out what went wrong and how I must do it differently next time to get the results I want. My close friends and family have been impressed at how quickly I’ve picked up the necessary skills. My response, “I had to.” I don’t have the money or time to go through school, and I don’t have the time and luxury to learn this stuff on my own at a slow pace. Therefore, I’ve pushed myself to pick up the skills quickly. I’m not there yet, but what I lack in skills I can get with patience at this point.

Jonathan Swift coined an old saying that goes, “You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.” This is to say that you can’t produce a luxurious product from crappy materials. This is one of my biggest irks about the direction American retail is going. It was not that long ago that Jenni could buy Italian-made, all-leather shoes at the discount store on any given day. Now it seems that all the shoes are mostly (if not all) made from cheap, artificial materials. It’s not just the shoe industry either. Clothing is poly/cotton blend (if you’re lucky), furniture is particle board with a veneer, sprinklers are plastic, watches are battery-operated and largely disposable. Home electronics are designed to be obsolete in a few years. I have an antique chrome toaster with bakelite handles on it that just keeps on going. Any modern toaster that I’ve owned burns out after only a couple of years. Where are the things that last? The luxurious things? They are being driven out by the flashy and cheap. I know that I’m not the only one that doesn’t want to participate in a disposable lifestyle. Hence, the materials that I like to work with. I have made practice runs with cheaper materials simply because I didn’t want to screw up the good stuff, but I don’t want to make a real finished product with anything less than great materials.

Recently, I was commissioned to make a purse by an internet friend. Like me, she wants something special, unique, and luxurious. We settled on a basic concept and a price, and I went to town gathering up the materials necessary. The bag is to be black, because black goes with everything. So, I will start with buttery-soft, top-grain, black leather.

This stuff is soft and strong. Many of the factory-made bags are made of mystery cloth or vinyl. Even when they are leather, often they are a finished split instead of top-grain hide. Usually a top-grain bag is going to be expensive when you can find one.

She asked if I could line the bag in the brightest magenta that I could get my hands on. I scoured the local fabric stores until I sourced this heavy, tightly-woven, imported silk.

Not only is this stuff beautiful, silk has a tensile strength greater than steel, and it is highly abrasion resistant. As delicate as it feels, it is incredibly rugged and durable. At sixty inches wide, a yard is way more silk than I need to put a lining in this bag. But, there are other things it will be used for in this project. I’ll get into that more in a later post.

She asked me if I could do some accent work on her bag in stingray. She was open to color options on it, but wanted something extra to give it a little extra spark. So, I sourced this ivory-colored, sanded and polished stingray pelt.

(in sunlight)
(under fluorescent)

Here are the three materials together:

Of course, the whole thing will be stitched together in Kevlar thread where it doesn’t show, and bonded nylon where it does. I’ll finish the bag off with nickle findings and more pockets than you’ll find in a typical bag (including a couple of specialized pockets at her request). I’ll be working on this one next week. I have a feeling that it’s going to occupy most of my time over the course of the week to get everything just right. Of course, I’ll post more pictures when I’ve got a final product to show off!

I had a dream last night that I bought a cow and buried it in the front yard. I buried it alive, but I left a little tunnel from the surface to its head, so that it could breathe and I could provide it with food and water. Other than that, the animal was buried – its body completely encased in soil. The thought was if I could figure out how to make this work, just think of how it could revolutionize the beef industry! Besides that, domestic cows are not exactly active creatures. They just stand around and eat grass all day. They could do that any old place – like in a hole in the ground!

Of course, in real life, the thought of treating a living creature in such a manner is revolting, and it is very clear that there are many reasons that this would never work, but the dreaming mind doesn’t necessarily consider all of the same implications that the waking mind does. My friends and family were excited about my cow. They were constantly asking, “How’s that cow experiment going?” My initial thought was that I would bury the cow, making provisions so that it could live, and I would dig up the animal after a week to record and analyze the results.

About two days into the experiment, we had a get together at our house where we cooked on the grill. Our friends and family came to eat and have a great time with us. Someone in the party was asking me about the cow and my experiment. That’s when it dawned on me – although I had made provisions for air, water, and food to get to the animal for its consumption, I had made no provisions for the urine and feces. And even worse, I had the animal’s body buried with no room for it to expand as the cow breathed. I was mortified and discouraged as I realized what I had done. I answered the question at the party, “I’m pretty sure my cow is dead.”

Now, please allow me to interpret:

I believe the dream represents my latent fear in going into business for myself. The cow directly represents my leatherwork, and indirectly the financial investment in the tools, equipment, and raw materials. The experiment – burying the cow, digging the air/feeding tunnel, pretty much every effort of the experiment represents the real-world effort that I’ve put into learning how to make great leather goods. The very fact that I did something as outrageous as burying the cow both represents that I want to accomplish something truly unique with my efforts, and it represents planting a seed – in this case, planting the seed of my business.

The fact that I came to a sudden realization that I had done something horrible, and destroyed all the investment, and that all the effort was for nothing – that represents my fear of the unknown. In real life, do I have any idea how much money I will or will not wind up making by the end of the year? No, I have no clue. Do I have any guarantee that The Holster Site will make a living for me and my family? No – but I had no more guarantee this time last year that I would continue to work in a traditional job.

The fact of the matter is that the fear itself is kind of freeing. In traditional employment I enjoyed the illusion of stability, when I had no more job security than I do now. Frustration then came in the form of not feeling like I was being appreciated for my accomplishments and abilities, but that was the price I paid for the illusion of stability. And, I accepted a ceilinged-out paycheck that was probably less than I was worth in return for the false security that the next paycheck would be exactly the same as the one before it.

Had the dream with the cow continued, I would have liked to see myself do something wily and industrious with my failed experiment. Perhaps I would have discovered that burying beef for several days tenderizes and seasons the meat and makes it uniquely delectable. Conversely, maybe I would have discovered that my fears were in vain, and the cow had actually thrived in those bizarre conditions. I don’t know, but I think that’s the point – the dream was supposed to be a cliff-hanger. The lesson I take away from it is to not let my fears win. I will win. I will make the best of my situation, take the steer by the horns (as it were), and make my own destiny.

As I continued dreaming after the cow dream, a neighbor down the street had a shack in their back yard. In that shack was a hideous creature that appeared to be a cross between a human child and a piglet. They kept this child-pig in a chicken wire cage in the shack. There was a six-inch tall bi-pedal dinosaur that was in the cage with the child-pig. The child-pig would draw the dinosaur in and snuggle with it, but the dinosaur was uncomfortable with this and wanted to escape. A ninja-like character crept into the neighbor’s yard and entered the shack. He used a shovel to pry the chicken-wire cage open and scooped out the tiny dinosaur with the shovel. He tossed the dinosaur into the trees behind the shack. The child-pig was furious! It screamed and squealed and threw such a tantrum that the entire shack swayed and creaked. Just as the ninja made his escape, the child-pig’s tantrum peaked and he literally exploded in a burst of fire which leveled the shack to splinters and ash. And, that was all.

I don’t have an interpretation for that last one. I’m pretty sure it has something to do with the fact that I watched Beowulf before bed last night. That makes more sense than anything else I can think of.

If any of you have been following the news, you know that we in Central Oklahoma have spent the last couple of days getting drenched by several storm’s worth of rain. Fortunately, we’ve stayed relatively dry here in the Evyl Robot Empyre. It was A LOT of rain. The neighborhood streets were flowing yesterday, but it never did get over the top of the curbs on our street.

The sound of rain is relaxing. There’s no better sedative for me than a good downpour. Usually, when it’s raining while I’m in bed, I sleep harder than any other situation. On Sunday night, probably about one in the morning, there was a thunder crack that rattled the entire house for several seconds. Jenni and I both woke up and laid in the dark, listening.

I’m not sure specifically what we were listening for – just anything odd. We listened for any evidence that we needed to crawl out of the warm bed to patch a window, lash a tarp over the open corner of the living room, pry the car out of the front door, etc. Besides the dull roar of the falling rain, all was quiet. It certainly was an electrical storm, with cracks and growls of thunder all night. In fact, I keep hearing gentle thunder this morning even.

Yesterday morning, we made a more thorough assessment of the possible damage. Peeking out the back window, we could see that all the vegetation was intact, if not wading in a pond that didn’t belong there. Peeking out the front, we could see our unmolested Bradford pear tree, and beyond it, the river in the street. Jenni prepared to go to work, and I got ready for my day. When it was time for her to leave, I walked her out to the car. Once we got past the Bradford pear, we say this directly across the street:

If that was the lightning we heard in the night, no wonder it was so loud in our house! On the up-side, I don’t think that the neighbor’s truck actually took any damage – I haven’t seen any dents on it anyway. And, the breakage on the tree looks like it will grow in well.

On a side note, after making my commitment to post here weekly, I apparently didn’t post last week. So, I owe you an extra this week. That’s okay though, because I think I know just what I’m going to tell you about…

1 – As they have preached to me for years, I should not cut towards myself, but rather away from myself.

2 – A good, tough, leather shaft on a boot is worth its weight in gold.

3 – Knife safety is as valuable as any other kind of safety, and often overlooked.

At work, we close many boxes with hot glue. There are times that we have to reopen boxes to check the contents. When I open a brand new box, I want to do it in such a way that it can be resealed. So, I’ve found that my Ka-Bar folder is just about the most effective box opener known to man. The D2 blade is tough enough to rip through the most unsavory of adhesives, and cleans up true and bright, and holds its edge well.

Today, I was in a hurry. The boxes had to be opened NOW. There was a bit of a busy crowd around me in the shop as I produced my Ka-Bar and started cutting through recently set hot glue. I drew the knife through the seam towards me. It’s not that I was deliberately disobeying the knife rules so much as I was pointing inward to protect the individuals around me.

The blade made it through a tough spot in the glue and into a softer spot that instantly gave. Before I was aware of what was happening, I felt the blow against my calf. I quickly inspected by jeans for the hole, and could not find it. Nothing felt wet (with blood), and there was no pain. So, I completed the task at hand.

Afterward, thinking of the tangible blow to my calf, I inspected more closely. I discovered a chisel-point hole in the top of my boot shaft, not an inch from the top.

I found a matching scratch on the inside of my calf, right behind the tibia.

My heart skipped several beats as I realized that I had been less than an inch away from having that D2 steel, Ka-Bar blade sunken deeply between my tibia and fibula on my left leg.

Thank God boot shafts are made from durable leather. Thank God that I have ignored the dress code that prohibits leather-soled footwear. Thank God that the blade landed where it did instead of 3/4-inch higher.

Since I’m currently an independent contractor, Workman’s Comp would be a supreme PITA at its best, and out of the question at its worst. The probable injury to ensue would most likely put me off my feet for some time, and would certainly require stitches, if not surgery.

I’m just really thankful that everything worked out so well despite my negligence. Once in a great while, I have an incident that reminds me how careful I should be with my knives. This has been my latest incident. Thankfully, my boot will carry the scar instead of me. I was very fortunate this time.

To both my readers – I’m sorry. I haven’t been a very good blogger lately. If you have been following my rants, you both probably know that I haven’t been very good at keeping up with my online presence. You probably also know that I’ve been working – A LOT!!!!! If you haven’t, you can pretty much catch up on the antics here or here. If you haven’t already, GO, READ!

As you can already tell from the preceding, I’ve been worked really hard over the course of the last month’s time. I’ve been on my feet on a shop floor for a good ten hours a day. This is no excuse for my absence in my blogging, but I hope that you will forgive me and understand that there has been some other pressure.

I learned a lot at Appleseed when we went, but it was a real disaster to me in the present state of things. It was a real lifter to Jenni, and you can read about it here. Once again, I learned A LOT. If I skip the part about my failure (or my lack of mastery) can I skip on to the part about bad equipment without guilt? Frankly, I feel like the equipment challenges forced me to learn a whole lot more than the other students of the workshop. This won’t be my last Appleseed, as I WANT THAT PATCH!!!!!!!!

Jenni and I are still in the one-income mindset for some reason. This means that we’ve been living on the cheap (a.k.a. like poor people), and I’ve been working a lot of hours, and dragging the cash home. So, we found ourselves with a household export deficiency.

When Christmas was coming around, we had this grand idea that we were going to have a gunny Christmas. The fat man was going to come down our non-existent chimney with a bag full of shooty goodness, and he was going to leave a precision air rifle for the kiddo, a DAO Beretta PX4 Storm .45 for Jenni, and a Saiga 12 for Your’s Truly. But, that didn’t happen. Life got in the way, and we took care of life instead. We made it right for the kiddo, but we vowed that we’d take care of each other later.

Valentine’s Day came and went. I was unemployed. This weekend, we found ourselves together with a little excess cash. So, we took care of each other. We found a great Nikon camera that Jenni couldn’t go on without, and we made our way to the range to return some loaner gear to my friend, Will.

While we were at the range, I looked over that 12-gauge AK that I’ve been imagining owning. They didn’t have the exact model that I’d like to own, the price was a little higher than I remembered, and I was thinking of all the mods I’d have to do to it before I loved it. So, after much deliberation I didn’t go that route. Instead, I bought a brand new Smith & Wesson M&P45c.

“Why that particular gun?” you might ask. Well, I’ve been a fan of Smith & Wesson since I’ve been even fascinated by guns. They haven’t let me down yet. Jenni has the 9mm equivalent of this gun, and although I was thinking about getting a nine, it made more sense for me to get a different caliber if I was getting the same model – and I don’t believe in .40 or .357 Sig. Bang for the buck, it’s really hard to argue with S&W’s M&P guns. They’re really fantastic firearms for the green they command.

While at the range, I rented a S&W M&P45 full-sized model, just to get the feel for the thing. The rental gun was well-abused, with many thousands of careless rounds put through it. And, its countenance showed it. The sucker was visibly mal-handled as a lifestyle. The polymer frame was warped away from the muzzle, and everything in it that could rattle was. And yet, it returned fuzzy hole after fuzzy hole in the way of groups. The gun felt remarkably solid in the hand and all actions were consistent – safety, slide, trigger, etc.

Smith & Wesson is currently offering a $50 or two-free mags mail-in rebate on this line of guns, so the economics made perfect sense. I went to the young man who had showed me the Saiga and broke the news that I would not be buying that shotgun – but asked him if he would sell me a pistol instead.

Over the weekend, Jenni and I took the little big bore to the range. She performed perfectly over the course of 200-rounds. I resisted the urge to be horribly stingy, and let Jenni shoot her a few times. Although the users weren’t perfect, the equipment itself performed flawlessly. There were fuzzy groups returned when we shot our wellest, and adequate-to-kill-teh-BG for our worstest of shooting.

This evening, when Jenni was out to church choir, I walked down to the range at the corner and picked up some defensive .45. It’s the Bonded PDX – or whatever bullet, as loaded by Winchester. Now, I need to work myself into my holster-making schedule. My real customers come first, but this girl will have a name and be riding in good leather in no time flat!

Jenni has taken some very impressive pictures with her new camera, and the new pistol shoots wonderfully. So, for a VERY late Christmas present, Jenni took some nice shots at my new pistol. I very wisely did not reciprocate. There are pics of the new gun which will come out shortly, but you aren’t missing anything as it looks like a very generic, polymer, striker-fired auto-chucker.

So, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Happy St. Patrick’s Day and Merry Christmas to both my readers!

To both my faithful readers: I give my sincerest apologies for not writing a blog entry for over two weeks. These are the actions of a n00b, and I hope you can forgive me. Now, please allow me to explain myself. Right now, I’m receiving my 100-proof therapy after my fifteenth consecutive day of work at the new place. I’m not much worried about getting Dooced right now, as I don’t think anybody there has any time to find my blog, much less read it. Week one wound up around fifty-two hours of labor. Last week tallied in at a little over sixty. Fortunately, I will not be working this weekend. I’ve made comment and had coworkers say that they thought ‘we’ would be working. I’ve explained that I have scheduled the time off, and will be taking it, as I have already purchased my tickets to the Appleseed shoot that I’ve been wanting to go to for two years now! I’m friggin’ excited and dead tired all at the same time. The weather looks like it will be great (although I don’t put any faith in a forecast beyond 72-hours).

The wife, child, and I will be well-overdue for some challenging rifle action. I hope to learn some tricks that will make my shooting go from adequate to astounding. From what I’ve heard and read from other Appleseed attendees, this is exactly what I should expect. It was about two years ago that there was an event near my home, and that’s where we are going next weekend. I inquired, and there were no assurances that there would be another event at said location in the foreseeable future. So, we ponied up, paid the admission, called in some favors to complete our gear, and we will be storming our stores for the remainder of what it will take to go to this magnificent event. With our awesome .22lr’s in hand, we will drive to the gun range where the three of us will learn to reliably hit a man-sized target at 500-meters with a rifle equipped with iron sights. Yeah. I’m psyched! The range also has an area reserved for some real-life, 600-yard shooting, so I imagine that we’ll also drag our AR’s along for the ride. We’re going to have a really nice, soopah awsom, rifley weekend!

Besides the obvious complaint about the hours, I REALLY like the new job. I thought that I was working with an outstanding group of people at my last job. But, this company is 10x bigger than the last, and I can’t find anybody that I have had any significant head-butting with. Having crammed three weeks worth of work into two, that’s really saying something! As far as the hours are concerned, my one saving grace is that it is temporary. The factory is:
1 – Moving from one computer system to a distinctly different one.
2 – Changing warehouse and manufacturing locations to streamline production.
3 – Going through a meticulous inventory of like a quarter million distinct part numbers (I may be exaggerating a little there).
and:
4 – Implementing a massive overhaul of the part numbering system.
The bottom line is that they need all the help they can get. My position is the obvious help there. Salaried employees put in free overtime, and they perform accordingly. Hourly employees must legally get paid time-and-a-half for their overtime. Consultants (a. k. a. ‘contract labor’), such as I, may be paid straight, hourly pay for any and all time over the Federally allotted, forty per week. Therefore, they will make their hardest attempt to work the snot out of me for the duration for the ninety-day contract. I must say that I don’t mind the extra pay, even if I do mind the extra hours. I am rapidly wearing thin, but I don’t think that it will be a problem to deliver at least their money’s worth through the end of the week. I have even managed to get a little of my holster work in on the side! Granted, I have not completed a huge amount of that work, but it has been progress… As far as more traditional work is concerned, I like them a lot, and they seem to like me as well. The people at the new company express in many ways that they are really impressed and appreciative of my presence there. Apparently, I have not offered disappointment since my interview. I don’t plan on offering any.

On the holster end of things, I’m just about to unveil my first exotic-skinned holster as well as the much-requested, much awaited, pocket/IWB convertible. And, I’ve got a few tricks in store there! I’ve also freshened up my belt-optional IWB holsters and added a matching magazine carrier for the weak side. True to my previous promises, I’m about to show off some beautiful new products! For a teaser, please look at what Caleb has to say about his new Red Racer! I’m trying my hardest to make the best holster you can get, regardless of price – and a .2-second drop in draw speed over kydex for a Bianchi Cup competing IDPA shooter is nothing to scoff at!

Yes, friends. I’m very tired. But, the ride has been a good one. I’m looking forward to some much earned R&R, but for now, I believe I’ve got enough fuel left to get through the demanding part. Once again, I’ll try my hardest to not let it get to two weeks before my next post. Thanks for reading. Regards,

ERM

On his email list on 2/5/10, John Farnam wrote:

Excellent response to a common question from naive students, “Why can’t I just shoot him in the leg?”

… from a colleague:

“Deliberately launching high-velocity missiles, from a firearm, in someone’s direction, necessarily represents a voluntary employment of ‘deadly-force.’ Your sincerely articulated ‘intended outcome,’ for the most part, ceases to be relevant once you press the trigger!

I’m not sure why so many apparently fail to grasp the foregoing, when they simultaneously claim to understand perfectly why they are shooting someone in the first place! When defending yourself with gunfire, it is always because you perceive an imminent, deadly threat to yourself (and/or other innocent parties), and other, lesser options are precluded, ie: unlikely to be efficacious, unavailable, or not practicable.

Any time you shoot someone, you are employing ‘deadly-force,’ because no one can accurately predict the ultimate damage a bullet (any kind of bullet, striking anywhere on the body) will do. You may attempt a shot to an extremity, and you may even be successful, but your bullet may still sever an artery, and, as a direct result, the person may bleed to death in short order, even when that outcome was not your ‘intention.’ Even when death does not result immediately, permanent disablement/impairment/disfigurement surely will. No one ever ‘recovers completely’ from a gunshot wound!

Deadly force is deadly force. Know and understand that you cannot shoot anyone in a ‘non-deadly’ manner!

In defensive shooting, our goal is, of course, to end the criminal’s violent behavior as quickly as possible. To that end, we shoot with sufficient precision and volume to accomplish the goal. After that goal is accomplished, additional shooting is unnecessary, and thus unjustified.

The incontrovertible, inescapable maxim is: Shot placement that is most likely to stop violent, criminal behavior quickly is also most likely to beget fatal wounds. For better or worse, the two outcomes are inseparably linked! Accordingly, purposely attempting to inflict ostensibly non-fatal wounds may well actually prolong the fight, exacerbating risk-exposure yourself, other innocent parties, even the VCA himself.

In addition, attempting to hit arms or legs of an aggressively animated attacker represents a far greater challenge, even for competent marksman, than does aiming for the chest and trunk. Thus, attempting to ’shoot him in the leg’ is unlikely to be successful to begin with!

You must, at long last, confront the unavoidable fact that employing gunfire in self-defense, no matter your intent, is likely to result in forceful death, or permanent, crippling injury, to the VCA in question. Who cannot
accept, nor deal with, that stark reality, should have naught to do with guns!

Trying, in the face of the foregoing, to convince yourself that ’shooting him in the leg’ is an appropriate force-response to a lethal, personal attack is delusional in the extreme! It is identical to the self-deceptive concept that a nation can print its way to prosperity, or that death, pain, and suffering, in general, can all be legislated out of existence.

Only cretins and children believe that!

‘Shooting with charity’ is thus an absurd contradiction! Who believe it are destined for a short and unhappy life!”

Comment: Years ago, the false concept of deliberately wounding an attacker with gunfire was actually taught in some circles. No one, with any credibility, teaches it today.

/John

As many times as I’ve tried to state the same point, I’ve never been able to say it so fully and yet plainly. This was simply too good to not pass on.

Make that SELF-employment!  I’m feeling pretty good, actually.  Apparently, I need to put together a real workspace.  My back has been hurting, and I’m getting sick of seeing work laying around.  Getting laid off sucks, but being in the first wave is a blessing in disguise.  It seems noble, but going down with the ship could not be a good thing.  I know that now I could get lulled in by the “I don’t want to work” bug, but if I make myself make a habit of doing what needs to be done, it will work out.  Last night, I did work on a holster for a little while, even though I said I wouldn’t.  Explanation:  I’ve seen way too many of the self-employed work at all hours.  I decided that I would work within hours and not otherwise.  Last night, I had to trim and wet-mold a holster so I could dye it today.  It wasn’t dry until this evening, so I was going to dye it and face another holster this evening.  Then, we got a storm.  I can’t dye when it’s raining, and the adhesive won’t set right when it’s raining.  So, I blew it off.  This is the first time I’ve felt relaxed since Thursday, and it feels WONDERFUL!!!  Two days in, two orders well underway.  I even finished a holster for Jenni.  (I have a friend that makes jewelry.  His wife gets diamonds as random presents.  Jenni got the short end of the stick, apparently.)  If that is any sign, it is going to work.  I still need holster orders, people!  Get off your duffs and buy!