Saturday, September 19, 2009

A Lament

Being on the forced active job search, I am under somewhat of a strain lately. To put it mildly. I thought it might be nice to slip out this afternoon and go down the grass path to the low water bridge and squeeze off a few rounds of my trusty pistola.

I gathered my .40 and magazines full of 42 rounds of Winchester ammunition, along with my trusty Daisy Powerline, two CO2 cartriges and a box of BBs.

Heading off toward the ditch, I was enjoying the Southeast breeze and the smell of all the grass. I saw a two foot long rat snake. We exchanged greetings and went our separate ways.

As I got closer to the ditch and the “road” that leads to our shooting spot, I noticed that there were new fenceposts and a strand of brand new bob wahr. To the rest of the country that’s “barbed wire”.

I was aghast. How could they do that? Staring in disbelief, I kept walking closer and closer, not wanting to believe my entry was being barred. Passively, yes, but barred nonetheless. There was a day not so long ago that I would have simply ducked under the fence, but in those days I wasn’t carrying a serious caliber pistol in my hip pocket. The thought of encountering someone and them calling the county mounties on me, all the while with a firearm (concealed) and a pile of ammo did not appeal to me. I am out of work, but I don’t think I want to spend that time in jail.

Crestfallen, I trudged back up the dirt track, half hoping to tell the snake my troubles. I crossed the dried up ditch and went up the other side of the tributary. This leads down to the main bayou/ditch where the low concrete bridge is where we used to stand and shoot.

Tromping down the open dirt road that runs parallel to the familiar road to the place I taught my youngest daughter to shoot, I began to really regret the advancement of civilization. Who would do that? Well, it’s just as well; the property I was walking alongside is rumored to have sold for development a while back, and the property behind that has turned into improved pasture for cattle. I looked out across the field to my right and even saw houses. I grew more nervous about seeing houses across the pasture. I made the decision to leave my big pistol holstered, so to speak.

But I just had to reach out and touch something! Good thing I brung my BB gun. I set up a lonesome Sam’s cola can and used up both CO2 cartridges, practicing my aim and trigger control, to the extent that one can on a Daisy Powerline.

So another page turns in my life; no more places to shoot for free. No more getting my nitrocellulose fix, not to mention my little gal and her Annie Oakley practice.

Dang civilization.


innominatus said...

They (whoever "they" are) did the same thing to the abandoned rock quarry I used to go to.

It is still there, unchanged - just an ugly scar on the side of the hill - dunno what "they" think they're protecting.

DammitWomann said...

Being a "Certified" City Girl, I couldn't believe you didn't shoot and kill the rattler........


aA said...

Innominatus: the arrested beginnings of "progress" are often as bad as the actual "progress"; "THEY" need to back off and let us do OUR thing!

DW: "RAT SNAKE" not "rattlesnake"; there's a big difference! One is a shy, harmless constrictor, endangering only rats; the other is a dangerous pit viper waiting to inflict pain and the $100 Emergency Room co-pay on unwary walkers.

Rob V. said...

Calls to mind the time my step-brother moved to Montana to get away from the "dang civilization." Few years later he returned to Houston. Asked him why he would trade the natural beauty of the Big Sky country for Houston. "It was beautiful in Montana," he answered. "It really was. But, I discovered that all those beautiful mountains, lakes, rivers and trees could not pay any bills."

DammitWomann said...

Rat snake ONLY eats rats???


aA said...

DW: uh DUH! well they eat mice, too.

Better in the snake's belly than in your house, right?

DammitWomann said...

Never heard of a Rat Snake b4.