I ain't going back and you can't make me

Right now--I mean right now I need some R&R from G&G S&E's. That's Rest an' Recuperation from "Guns & Gear Shows & Expo's." Since SHOT Show back in January, I've been to seven or nine or eleven-teen of 'era, and I think I'm overdosed. Last week I started unconsciously arranging my carry guns, spare mags, knives and truck keys in neat diagonal rows on top of my dresser, and yesterday when the Memsaab called me to ask about meeting her somewhere for lunch I asked, "Which row, an' what's the booth number?" I rest my case.

But my editors won't get off my case, and they keep sending me to 'em. Oh, not the same ones they go to, of course. While they're attending an expo in Frankfort, Germany, I'm stumbling around one in Festered Comers, Georgia. While they're livin' it up in Turin, Italy, I'm lookin' for a decent pizza in Tubaville, Indiana. I suspect there's a little difference in our expense accounts, too. Like, they've got 'em.

Don't get me wrong, OK? SHOT Show, the Great Mohungus of expo's, the Holy Grail of GunNutz, is my personal version of Paradise--with a few exceptions. One is the alleged "food" available at the Grub Pavilion, I happen to think "burger" should indicate some form of recognizable meat, cooked, between bread-like objects. Further, I believe when you order a "cheeseburger," the "meat" and "cheese" should be of distinctly different colors, textures and thicknesses. One should never have to wonder which is which, or if one is a slice of bad eggplant. Yeah, I know--what can you expect for 12 bucks? That, and I think it is now a legal requirement that "food service personnel" have open sores on their hands and mouths. Either that, or you've got two equally bad options: those personnel just emigrated from a country teeming with hemorrhagic fever, or ... those lesions are the result of prolonged exposure to the "food" being handled.

Downhill From SHOT

There are some good shows, but for the most part, it's all downhill from SHOT Show. Take about one-tenth of SHOT's 21 football fields full of goods, jam 'em into an aging aircraft hangar made to house two Cessnas and a bass boat. assure that the air conditioning or heating is defunct. and you've got the picture. To be fair, the Weapons 'X' PoWest in Nogonzos. New Mexico, isn't like that. No Cessnas, no bass boat. But there is undeniable evidence of the ancient--and recent--presence of large numbers of sheep. Sheep with digestive problems.

And at the smaller expo's and trade shows, the "exhibitors" are a bit different. When you see a banner reading "H&K" at SHOT, it means Heckler & Koch. The same letters over a booth in Mudflatz. Minnesota can mean Hal & Karl. "producing world-class .45 autos since last Tuesday."

I think there's about twelve companies left on the planet who do not make 1911 clones, and four of them have taken hacksaws and welding torches to perfectly innocent AR-15s, with horrific results. Their products are about as accurate as a lobbed brick, and cycle like the rusty gate latch in your great aunt Emily's side yard. There's some amazing custom work being done in greasy garages from Bangor to Bakersfield, sure, but I just get this queasy feeling when I see a not-so-reasonable facsimile of John Browning's design bein' reproduced by "Earl's Fine Lawn Furniture & Firearms. LLC." I suspect they're using the same metal in their .45's as they use in their "DeLuxe Folding Reclino-Loungers?"

Too, I get a little tired of the rampant overkill on terms like "tactical," "stealth," "extreme" (usually spelled "X-Treme!" or "EXX-Treme!") and "ninja" when applied to guns and shooting gear. These terms ought to actually mean something, but as far as I can tell. I own a Tactical Toothbrush. cause it has green swooshies of color on the handle-probably toothpaste residue--a "Stealth Squeegee." because it has a foggy-gray rubber grip: an "EXX-Treme Ops Electrolux[TM] Vacuum Cleaner", since it has a built-in "tactical light" and you can get it a little wet an' dirty, and finally, my "Ninja Nutcracker," which apparently qualifies because it has this teensy little fold-out blade for diggin' out walnut hulls.

Someday I'd like to see one gun-maker advertise a firearm, not as a ProOperatorTacticalStealthEXXTremeNinja Model, but as something like a "Pretty Dang Good Reliable Bullet-Launcher." I'd buy it, and to hell with the caliber.

Another concern is security at the "Just Ain't SHOT" expo's and trade shows. At SHOT. no firearms are allowed on the show floor unless firing pins have been removed, or the guns have been otherwise rendered null an' void. That ain't the case at some of these shows, where things can get dangerous, weird, and funny--a bad combination. Like, the last time I observed the phenomenon I call "Prairie Dog Syndrome."

It's Called PDS

You know how sometimes you can fire a shot over a sod-pup colony, and suddenly, dozens of little brown noggins pop up outta their holes, looking around? It ain't real healthy for prairie dogs, and it's downright stupid for humans ...

There I was, shufflin' down an aisle suffering a mild case of compos mentis Alpo[TM], a condition in which your brain assumes the consistency of a popular brand of canned dog food, when BANG!, a detonation reverberated through the place from somewhere off to my three o'clock. About 2.6 nanoseconds later. I was crushin' my shirt buttons in the process of getting a suction-grip purchase on the concrete deck with my chest.

Looking across the aisle. I saw another set of saucer-sized eyeballs, also at ground level. Both of us looked up, seeing flocks of folks standing stock-still, their necks stretched like sandhill cranes, heads swiveling around as if mounted on gimbals. looking for the source of that bang. Our eyes met again.

"Easy to tell who's been shot at, huh?" he asked. "Yup," I agreed.

"First Marine Regiment, Viet Nam, '69 an' '70," he said. "You?"

Yeah. We chatted--and waited for the next shot. There wasn't one. No screams, moans, curses, or sirens in the distance. Cool! I lucked out again! But, ever go back to that "expo"? I ain't goin', and you can't make me. I'm on R&R from G&G S&E's, dudes.

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COPYRIGHT 2005 Gale Group