Thursday, December 01, 2016

Life among the Social Justice Warriors and Precious Snowflakes.

I've noticed a distinctly cooler attitude recently from some of the folks I have been associating with in a couple of neighborhood bars that I frequent here, and it's coming from both regular customers and staff.

I just found out it's because there is a RUMOR that I voted for Trump.

(Full disclosure: I did. But I made it a point to keep quiet about it there because it's totally SJW and snowflake infested.)

When I asked one of the ones that I heard this from where that came from since I never said a single thing in support of him (in that bar, because I knew better), she said "Well it's kinda obvious. Everyone here was all upset and really scared about it and you were acting like nothing bad happened."

And it's true. For the first few days after the election, it was almost commonplace to walk in there and find at least one person actually CRYING because Donald Trump was going to be the next President. The predictions, courtesy of Facebook and left-wing websites, was that come January, they and all of their friends will see their gay marriages be dissolved, their Obamacare or SSI disability will be taken away, and Mike Pence will personally electrocute every one of them who fails to convert to heterosexuality. Even worse, all of the muslim immigrants will be deported immediately right along with all of the poor illegal aliens while bands of skinheads and hooded klansmen will roam the country, attacking them at will with no fear of consequences because they'll have Trump's blessing.

You and I laugh at all of this crap of course, but a lot of these people here really and truly believe it. Some are just out of their teens of course and this was their first election cycle as "adults" but others here are in their 50's and 60's and should know better.

And because I did not join them in visibly shedding tears, I was added to the watchlist of suspected Trump voters.

And I wasn't alone, either. A couple others here who are much closer to the inner circle of this crowd have been verbally attacked and openly blamed for Trump's election because they admitted to having voted for one of the third-party candidates. This has actually sparked one fistfight that I know of. Admittedly it's great fun watching them eat each other.

Now they're starting to get over the election, but their new hobby horse is the "Standing Rock" gathering of scumbags in North Dakota who are trying to stop an oil pipeline from crossing an indian reservation and despoil indian burial sites even though it's not running through the reservation or near any graves. They are now crying over those "outrages" and raising money to send up there.

My opinions haven't been sought on this issue yet, which is probably good for all involved as my ideal solution involves the use of Forest Service aerial water bombers on the next cold night and beatings and jail for every anarchist hippie up there, preferably in some work camp on our southern border where Sheriff Joe Arpaio will put them to work building President Trump's new wall.

Yeah, probably best that they not ask me about that.

They're a weird bunch here, and few of them have full-time jobs or cars because...well you know--you've got to make smart choices and put some hard work into life if you want to get anything out of it and this neighborhood doesn't have many people here yet who live like that. I wouldn't hang out with them as a matter of choice, but this area isn't exactly known for it's large number of conservative watering holes. Besides, they are fun to watch in their tearfulness so long as I can keep my smug under control.

Monday, November 28, 2016

New rifle score!

I've been looking for one of these for years. Found one every now and again, but they always shot out of my hands price-wise. Not this one though. I finally nailed one.
A Marlin 1894 FG. In the most awesome caliber.
.41 Magnum. Or ".41 Remington Magnum" if you want to be precise.

A great caliber, created by great men and great American companies. Alas, it fell victim to the concurrent rise of the .44 Magnum, which got a major boost from a movie cop named "Dirty Harry", who blew bad guys and audiences away with his Smith and Wesson Model 629. There were other problems too, like Remington trying to boost it's velocity to the point where it became impractical for law enforcement and self-defense, but the result was that the .41 withered on the vine despite being a ballistic work of art, and today it's carried and admired by a small cult following, and I'm a proud member.

My favorite N-Frame Smith, the Model 58.
Took me forever to find that one too.

The problem with these guns is that not many were made. Marlin has not made this rifle in .41 Magnum in 15 years and they draw a premium when sold, and many of these are being hoarded as collectors' pieces and not shot. But what's the point of a gun that you aren't going to shoot? My Model 58 is beat to tar, but it shoots well and I shoot it a lot. This rifle has a few small handling dings but is still 98% or so. Still, the seller told me that at least two people passed on it because he'd drilled the stock to mount a sling. They thought it ruined the collectibility. To the contrary, I thought it saved me the trouble. I plan to shoot this rifle and carry it afield in company with the Model .58.
There are advantages to a rifle and pistol using the same cartridge. It's easier logistically to just carry one round that works on both, and the rifle's longer barrel gives greater range and velocity over the handgun. Plus it's just plain "Cowboy Cool".

I already have one carbine/pistol combo consisting of a Marlin 1894 and a Smith and Wesson Model 66, both in .357 Magnum. I love that set-up for hiking and camping. And now I have a big-bore option for those trips. Or for my wanderings down Bourbon Street.

Lucas McCain, eat yer heart out.

Sunday, November 27, 2016

Another day, another mass shooting here. Not involved.

Once again, we have gunshots on Bourbon street on a Saturday night after midnight, just a short walk from my house.

1 Dead, Nine Wounded in Bourbon Street Shooting.

I am safe though. I will never be in danger of this particular recurring event because I know better than to be there. The old saying "Nothing good happens on Bourbon Street after midnight" is a truism, and especially so during the Bayou Classic week-end, when the Quarter fills up with, shall we say, a more "urban" crowd that tends to be unwelcome and the source of trouble pretty much everywhere that they gather in large numbers.

I avoid Bourbon Street after midnight as a rule, but I've learned from my friends here, including some of the most liberal SJW types you'll ever meet, to avoid the entire French Quarter during Bayou Classic and Essence Fest week-ends. Even liberals know trouble when they see it.

But this brings up a good point about concealed carry.

"You carry your gun when you go places like that, don't you?" This is a question I've been asked more than once. and my response is always the same:

"No. I don't go places like that." Duh.

While it's true that I carry almost all of the time, I also have the common sense to not go places where I know that there is a higher-than-average chance of needing that weapon. I don't go looking for trouble and trusting my firearm to get me out of it. I avoid trouble wherever possible by not going where it is expected to be. I was taught two good rules early on and I teach them to others every chance I get.

Rule #1. Always carry a gun.
Rule #2. Don't go places where you suspect that you might need to use that gun.

Of course I hope that trouble does not find me in other places, but if it does, I'm definitely prepared to deal with it, and with clean hands because I did not go forth to seek it out.

And that last bit: Crucial. Your legal right to self-defense fades quickly if you do things that contribute to the situation in which you were forced to use deadly force. That means if you provoke the fight, you may lose the defense, and the same applies if you knowingly go in harm's way. A license to carry doesn't mean that you get to go out and be Paul Kersey (Charles Bronson's character in the "Death Wish" movies for the younger readers here.) and just wait for muggers so you can shoot them. If a judge or jury decides that's what you were doing...well anyone who remembers Death Wish probably remembers Bernie Goetz, too. Don't be that guy.

Come to New Orleans. Have a good time. Look me up. Just don't look for me in places where trouble is expected because me and my ever-present sidearm will not be there.

Thursday, November 24, 2016

Happy Thanksgiving

I am thankful today for several things.

1. I woke up alive this morning. This day was not promised to any of us.

2. I live in America. I have freedom and opportunity.

3. I have a house and a car, money in the bank and a job. I have electricity, running water, air conditioning and the internet. By global standards, I am wealthy.

4. I am surrounded by people that I love--some truly great people that I am proud to know.

I Thank God for all of this. I am blessed and truly grateful.

So what are YOU thankful for?

Out for coffee, and a parade happened.

So the dogs and I were out roaming last night, because they seem to have some excess energy as of late and because the weather was perfect for it. I also wanted a cup of coffee and didn't feel like making any so I figured we'd walk to this little overpriced coffee shop down on Decatur Street and I could get a cup.

So we walked down towards Frenchmen Street, and since we were passing one of my favorite wine and beer stores, I got a nice dark German beer, because walking a little over a mile to get coffee can make you pretty thirsty. And the dogs are welcome in the store, so why not? We hung out there for a while and watched TV while Belle got petted and played with by a couple of the customers. Murphy, being the watcher, was too busy watching everyone. It's just what he does.

Finally we did a turn of Frenchmen street and Belle got some more love from people. A woman sitting in a chair outside one of the clubs kept trying to coax Murphy over and finally he gave in and waked over to her, but when she started petting him, he stuck his muzzle into her glass and took a drink of her beer. Like I said, it's just what he does. Sigh.

Eventually we got to the coffee shop and I got my coffee. Then as we ambled along Decatur St. going nowhere in particular, We ran into a crowd of people in costumes and a brass band. It was a second line pub crawl--the annual Turkey Tumble, in fact.

I had no idea about this beforehand, but having nothing better to do, we joined in and paraded from bar to bar for a while.
And this really showed me how well the dogs are acclimating to New Orleans. Back in April, they encountered their first sidewalk brass band and both dogs lost it, particularly Belle. Now Belle sits right in front of a snare drummer and watches him as he beats out the tempo and Murphy practically dozes between a pair of trumpets. They are second-line dogs for sure now and they'll walk right along in the middle of any parade like they were born to it.

Indian plays a horn.

Belle made a new friend.

That's what I like about this city. There's always something going on around here, and if you can find it, you're almost always welcome to join right in.

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

I can so relate

Sent to me by a friend. Yeah, this is my world.

Tuesday, November 22, 2016


I tried some baking today. I learned some things.

I learned that all of the smoke detectors in my house work.
I learned that said smoke detectors are wired together, and when one goes off, they all go off.
I learned that they are quite loud AND a chrome-plated bitch to reset, at least until the doors are opened and the residual smoke is vented out.

More to come later.

Monday, November 21, 2016

A serious canine "WTF?"

So now that I'm shooting shotguns at the range again, I've dug out the trap and skeet loads from the milk crates full of boxed shotgun shells (Thanks again for helping me move all that stuff, Aaron) and I put some of them by my shotgun cabinet in the living room. And those shells, in the form of a hundred rounds (four boxes ot 25 rds each boxed together) have sat there for over a month without bothering anyone or being bothered...until today.

I'm not sure what those shotgun shells said or did to piss the dogs off today while I was at work, but I walked in to find the cardboard all over the floor and a hundred rounds of #7 shot scattered all over the living room.


Just WHY?

The dogs are both pleading the Fifth and suggesting that I might want to ask the cats outside about this mystery.
The Nuttin' gang--Dindu Nuttin and Dinsee Nuttin.

Saturday, November 12, 2016

Haze gray and here for three days. DESTROYER!!

So I'm down along the river having breakfast, and I notice something different on the Gov. Nicholls St. wharf skyline.
That wasn't there before.

I ride around the other side of the wharf and lookie, lookie!!
It's USS Lassen (DDG82), an Arleigh Burke class guided missile destroyer! She's here for the week-end and they're giving tours!

So I get all metal-detected (just like at the airport, only here there are four sailors with guns and plate carriers watching me "No pictures of the checkpoint please!") and head aboard.
This is NOT a World War Two destroyer like USS Kidd. It's much bigger. She's 509ft long, 60ft wide, and displaces 9,600 tons. Comes with a crew of 320.

Still has torpedo tubes though.
And 25mm guns.

But the welcome mat was out for guests today.
They took us aboard in small groups of ten (And I was in the first group) and took us all around her deck to show us stuff and tell us about her.

Port side 25mm gun.
With warnings and safety instructions. (See, it's not just Ruger and S&W doing this.)
A plaque commemorating her namesake, Lt. Clyde E. Lassen, a Vietnam War rescue helicopter pilot.

Let's read that up close.
No, they didn't name this ship after some gay-rights activist or Democrat party icon. This ship was named for a warrior and meant to go in harm's way.

Here's a sailor standing watch with an M-240. And he does have an ammo can at his feet.

Phalanx CIWS (Sea-Whiz) all ready for close-in anti-missile defense.
Forward 5"62 gun, with a range of 13NM and a rate of fire of 20 rounds per minute. Belt-fed (!!) and pretty much entirely automated.

Comes factory standard with two Vertical Launch Missile Systems (VLMS), one forward here, and one aft. This one holds 32 missiles and the aft launcher holds 64.

Port side torpedo tubes.

Then it was up one deck to see a display of damage-control/firefighting gear.
The young sailor giving this lecture had just turned 21. Average age of the ship's enlisted crew is 25 and they operate this ship in places like the Persian Gulf and the Spratley Islands. These are real Americans, and you won't see them out protesting or demanding "safe spaces".


Sailor on aft port watch with his 240, doing what sailors on watch do.

Other sailors doing what sailors off watch do. They are still young Americans, after all.

Flight deck. This ship deploys with two MH-60R Seahawk helicopters. The tracks on the deck allow the helos to be locked down quickly then pulled into the hangars.

Another display for the we're talking my language.
The M-14 only uses 10-rd box mags here, and they keep them aboard for line-throwing and shark watch. Anything else, it's all M-167/M-4 or the Mossberg shotgun and Beretta 9mm.
I did get to pet the M-14 though. Springfield Armory with a lock on the selector.

Starboard side rigid-hull boats.

This wonderful ship can support infantry ashore with her guns but the main role is tracking enemy submarines in conjunction with Naval Air P-8 aircraft. Her radars are so finely-tuned that they can spot sub periscopes breaking the water surface and this particular ship has played cat-and-mouse with plenty of Chinese subs in the Spratleys. And impressive as she is, the class is aging towards obsolescence already and the newer ships coming out are light years ahead of this one, and are both larger and have much smaller crews due to increased automation.

Too cool indeed, and many thanks to the crew of Lassen for the tour, for their service, and for coming to New Orleans.

Friday, November 11, 2016

Friday night, New Orleans

It's Friday. I had the day off so I've been running and roaming the French Quarter.

The universal butt-hurt over Tuesday is still hanging on this city like a cloud. Many, many people are still upset and I have seen tears today as allegedly grown women pronounce themselves "scared" and blame "white supremacist rednecks" (all 60,000,000 of them, I guess) for this shocking turn of events.

One saleswoman came into a restaurant today to talk to the manager, and she said that she's have been in Wednesday when she was supposed to except that she's been so upset that she'd been in bed crying for the last two days. So hard not to laugh in my beer.

Coffee shop in the Quarter looked like a hippie drum circle that got rained out and lost their drums, and they were arguing among themselves about what this means for America's future. I'd have gloated over my stock market gains, but that's just bad form, especially when I was probably the only one in the shop with so much as a bank account much less any money in the market.

And of course the first semi-local Special Snowflake that ran to the media claiming that Trump supporters attacked her has been proven to have lied and now faces charges after getting a ton of sympathy from her fellow snowflakes and her college administrators.

Lafayette woman to be charged for false claim that Trump supporters robbed her, newspaper reports

Hell, I wouldn't be missing this for the world. All entertainment and all free. Bwahahahahaha!