November 27th, 2007
I grew up in New Jersey, and was taught to hate handguns. Really. Shotguns and rifles were okay if you hunted (not that I ever had the desire to hunt), but handguns? Evil. Death machines. The only reason to have one is to use it to kill someone. People get killed all the time by handguns, mostly people who found one, played with it, and shot themselves or someone else by accident. At least, that’s the lore I grew up on.
But
I spent Sunday afternoon at the Blue Ridge Arsenal in northern Virginia learning to load, shoot, and unload four different kinds of handguns. Plus a rifle.
And get this:
I was also tickled to hear [my teacher] Stretch compliment me on holding my finger properly off the trigger of each weapon until actually firing it. Because believe it or not, I learned that from reading military bloggers. Their posts making fun of faux soldiers, terrorists, and fauxtography taught me how to hold a weapon properly.
Good on ya, Meryl. Via Instapundit.
