It’s almost time to flip the calendar! Two versions of Auld Lang Syne for ya…
Country-
And Gospel/Rock…
There are any number of versions out there, but I’ve found these two are kinda classic ones…
Wishing each and everyone a Happy New Year!!! Now get out there and party hardy, if you still can. Otherwise, I suspect you’ll be in bed by ten like me… 🙂
Again…
New laws taking effect Jan. 1
A higher minimum wage, a ban on using “Redskins” as the name of a school team or mascot, and new restrictions on assault weapons are among the latest California laws taking effect with the new year:
Full article HERE from KRON4.com
<snip>
ASSAULT WEAPONS
Lawmakers passed a package of bills to strengthen California’s already tough gun laws then voters reinforced them by passing even more measures. People who own magazines that hold more than 10 rounds will be required to give them up starting Jan. 1. Buyers must undergo a background check before purchasing ammunition and will be barred from buying new weapons that have a device known as a bullet button.
Gun makers developed bullet buttons to get around California’s assault weapons ban, which prohibited new rifles with magazines that can be detached without the aid of tools. A bullet button allows a shooter to quickly dislodge the magazine using the tip of a bullet.
HANDGUN STORAGE
Law enforcement officers will be required to follow the same rules as civilians by securely storing handguns in a lockbox out of plain view or in the trunk if the weapons are left in an unattended vehicle. SB 869 by Sen. Jerry Hill, D-San Mateo, closed a legal loophole that had exempted authorities and concealed weapons permit holders from those rules. The move came after stolen guns were used in high-profile crimes.
Link HERE to that specific report.
Additionally, they are going to start doing background checks for purchase of ammo…
And SFO has a crime rate of 70 per 1000… NOT a misprint, 70 crimes per thousand residents… Link HERE. And the lowest number of PD officers of any major city in the US… sigh
TXRed’s comment yesterday about penalty boxes brought back a memory of dealing with the USAF at certain bases. They didn’t like us trashing up their pretty ramps with our dirty airplanes.
I think the statute of limitations has run out on this one… I hope… 🙂
One of those was CHS, which is a joint military/civilian base.
We used to do ‘school runs’ carrying people up and down the coast for various reasons with stops in Charleston, Norfolk, Andrews, Weymouth and Brunswick, ME. Due to the airplane, we had very limited passenger seating, depending on the schedule.
Now CAFB was a ‘special case’, in that they never gave Navy priority for flights unless there were NO USAF personnel that needed a ride, especially around the holidays. Also, the USAF people always charged personnel $10 for a box lunch on the flights, whether or not they got one (even the few times we got Navy personnel)…After a few negative experiences with them, we started parking across the field at the FBO, since they would let us park for free.
We would then borrow the FBO van, send one of the crew over to the USAF passenger terminal to scout for any Navy folks going north or south depending on that particular flight’s destination. Now we weren’t picky, if you had an ID and weren’t drunk, you could ride with us.
Soooo… The crewman would circulate through, knowing the number of seats we had and what our routing was…
If we had more seats than we had Navy riders, we’d check for Marines, Army and Air Force in that order. The crewman would tell the person- Wait a few minutes, then pick up your bag, go out the door, down to the end of the building. There’s a van sitting there marked such and such. We’ll give you a ride to the airplane…
We got away with that for about a year, until some USAF type woke up one day and noticed the Navy P-3 across the field and passengers disappearing. Apparently there were calls back and forth between the elephants, finally the ‘word’ came down to play nice with the Air Force.
That lasted about three months until the USAF started their crap (again), and we went back to circumventing the system (again)…
Fun times, and we hauled a bunch of folks out of there over the years, right under the Air Force’s nose!!! 🙂
Seventeen fun filled hours getting home last night, can’t brain…
0430 get up at PP’s house, two hour drive to airport, fly to SFO, break airplane twice, get new airplane and crew, finally get to DFW and two hour drive home, finally get there at 2130…
Reminds me why I don’t do this crap for a living anymore!
Go read the folks on the sidebar, hopefully a decent nights sleep (OWN BED, yea!) will allow me to actually put coherent sentences together today…
Back to reality…
In lieu of my posting drivel, these are some excerpts from Stephen Wenger’s excellent blog on guns… With links 🙂
Drawing and reholstering should be programmed reflexes. If you program them with a simple open-top holster, then use a thumb-break holster for a special occasion, your reflexes may not be tuned to pop that thumb-break in an emergency. Conversely, if you are programmed to pop the snap on a thumb-break holster, you may waste time seeking it the day you wear an open-top holster.
http://spw-duf.info/holster.html
One of the great pleasures in life is meeting someone and clicking right off the bat. I don’t recall which year I met Rich Grassi at a seminar of the now-defunct American Society of Law Enforcement Trainers but it was one of those meetings. I do, however, have very specific recall of the invaluable lesson he taught me at the later 1996 ASLET seminar, for which he is briefly acknowledged in my book.
I was reminded of this when Rich posted a five-years-after review of my book at The Tactical Wire, a site he now edits in his retirement from the Shawnee County [KS] Sheriff’s Office, an agency he served as a sergeant and one of its key use-of-force trainers. As Paul Harvey used to say, “and now for the rest of the story…”
Anyhow, after Rich completed his lecture on the criteria one should consider for a backup gun, he explained that he gave the deputies on his department fairly free rein in their choices, so long as they could pass the standard department “qualification” with that gun. He then marched us out of the heated trailer and made us fire that course.
I embarrassed myself turning in a score of 60% (I think 75% was the minimum score to “pass.”) I spent some time rationalizing that I had been shooting an Airweight Centennial revolver, in my non-dominant hand, wearing gloves that did little for the cold but still encumbered my shooting. Further, the wind was gusting hard enough that I was literally having trouble keeping my sights anywhere on the target at the 25-yard line and anywhere near the center at the 15-yard line, for the length of time required to complete a double- action trigger stroke.
Rationalization is still rationalization. Airweight Centennials were what I was carrying in those days. When I went home from the seminar I spent the next three months shooting nothing but those guns, dividing my range time equally between my right and left hands, with a large proportion of it shooting one-handed. When I finally felt that I had achieved competence with my carry guns, I discovered that I actually felt more comfortable shooting a J-frame S&W revolver than one of the larger K-, L- or N-frame models that had previously consumed most of my range time.
There’s an old country saying about dating that refers to spotting a prettier girl at the dance than the one who had agreed to accompany you: “Dance with the one yah brung.” If you regard shooting as a skill that you may need some dark night at a “party” for which you received no formal invitation, you’d better spend your range time “dancing with the one yer gonna bring.”
http://spw-duf.info/emperor.html#dance
George Patton liked to say that the perfect is the enemy of the good. He usually said it in the context that, in warfare, a good plan, executed vigorously and quickly, will prove superior to a perfect plan executed after a delay for the additional planning.
As I’ve discussed elsewhere, I believe that serious users of firearms are best served by finding a gun that does a good job of meeting their needs for a defensive firearm. Once that choice is made, I recommend concentrating on honing the skill to use it and acquiring multiple copies of that gun. I contrast this with the ongoing quest to find the perfect gun. The reason to purchase multiple copies of the good gun that you select – aside from whether you heed my advice to carry more than one gun – is that a firearm used in self-defense will likely vanish into an evidence locker. Further, if your carry gun has to go in for repair – and that does happen – it’s nice to be able to go to the safe and pull out a duplicate that matches your trained reflexes and carry system.
Like Glock pistols, the Shield has a “safety” built into the trigger. Unlike the centrally mounted levers on the triggers of Glocks, the “safety” on the Shield takes the form of a hinged, two-piece trigger. The Apex trigger, on the other hand emulates the Glock trigger, with the “safety” lever centered on its face. As I understand the problem that Rich experienced, the placement of the distal crease of his trigger finger on the outer edge of the factory trigger worked fine but failed to depress the “safety” lever consistently with the Apex trigger. This necessitated what I take to be the placement of the pad of the finger over the center of the face of the trigger. Thankfully, the unintended consequence of this modification was discovered in the “sterile” environment of the range, not during a gunfight.
By no means am I trying to suggest that all guns function perfectly out of the box and should never be modified. In fact, I am a proponent of Evan Marshall’s “one-year rule” – wait until a newly designed firearm is on the market for at least one year, to allow for debugging – before purchasing that new design. What I am trying to suggest is to evaluate very carefully any contemplated modifications. Ask yourself whether and how the contemplated modification will improve your use of the gun as a life-saving tool. Recognize that you may be challenged to defend any modification in court.
By contrast, if you spend the money on aftermarket grips for a revolver or a “grip reduction” on a pistol, you may improve your ability to keep the muzzle aligned where you want to place your shot without affecting the mechanical operation of the gun. The same argument of reasonableness can be made for the substitution of aftermarket sights that better serve your needs.
Most self-defense incidents take place at distances better measured in feet than in yards. While I would be wary of selecting a handgun that produces more of a pattern than a group, modifying a reliable pistol –such as a 1911 – to produce one-inch groups at 25 yards may compromise its reliability under less than ideal conditions.
You may be able to find a gun that meets your defensive needs out of the box. Alternatively, you may find that you need to make some reasonable modifications of your chosen gun to improve its function in your hands. Either way, give the gun a realistic test of reliability. Before pistols were designed to feed hollowpoint rounds, the rule of thumb was that a pistol should be able to cycle a minimum of 200 rounds of your chosen carry load without a malfunction. I know of a state police agency that made a decision to switch to a relatively newly designed pistol, only to learn that the first lot that they received would not function reliably with the agency’s choice of duty round, requiring the manufacturer to reconfigure the feed ramp. Revolvers ought not to require as extensive testing but I read a blog posting from another instructor who had purchased a seven-shot revolver from a reputable manufacturer. “It fired exactly four rounds before breaking.”
http://spw-duf.info/emperor.html#perfect
h/t Stephen Wenger
Except for picking up all the wrapping paper!!!
Vito got the last gift, three new tennis balls! And he chased them all over the place, picking up one, dropping it, finding another and so on. Kaya had more fun sitting in her box and chewing on presents than anything else.
Everybody got at least ONE thing they liked, so I’ll call that a success… 🙂
The Tryptophan coma was survived, the football games good, and there were no meltdowns (well, other than Kaya wanting to be fed in the middle of opening presents)…
I hope each of you had the best Christmas under the sun, wherever you may be.
I hope this day finds you spending it with your loved ones, if not enjoy as well as you can wherever you may be…
And yes, we’re having turkey…
Merry Christmas to all!!!
Before Christmas
Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house made of plaster & stone.
I had come down the chimney with presents to give
And to see just who in this home did live.
I looked all about a strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by the fire, just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures of far distant lands.
With medals and badges, awards of all kind
A sober thought came through my mind.
For this house was different, so dark and dreary,
I knew I had found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.
I heard stories about them, I had to see more
So I walked down the hall and pushed open the door.
And there he lay sleeping silent alone,
Curled up on the floor in his one bedroom home.
His face so gentle, his room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured a United States soldier.
Was this the hero of whom I’d just read?
Curled up in his poncho, a floor for his bed?
His head was clean shaven, his weathered face tan,
I soon understood this was more than a man.
For I realized the families that I saw that night
Owed their lives to these men who were willing to fight.
Soon ‘round the world, the children would play,
And grownups would celebrate on a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year,
Because of soldiers like this one lying here.
I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone
On a cold Christmas Eve in a land far from home.
Just the very thought brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice,
“Santa don’t cry, this life is my choice;
I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more,
my life is my God, my country, my Corps.”
With that he rolled over and drifted off into sleep,
I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.
I watched him for hours, so silent and still,
I noticed he shivered from the cold night’s chill.
So I took off my jacket, the one made of red,
And I covered this Soldier from his toes to his head.
And I put on his T-shirt of gray and black,
With an eagle and an Army patch embroidered on back.
And although it barely fit me, I began to swell with pride,
And for a shining moment, I was United States Army deep inside.
I didn’t want to leave him on that cold dark night,
This guardian of honor so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over, whispered with a voice so clean and pure,
“Carry on Santa, it’s Christmas Day, all is secure.”
One look at my watch, and I knew he was right,
Merry Christmas my friend, and to all a good night!
LC James M. Schmidt, HQ Marine Corps, 1986
And the NAVAIR version… 🙂
‘Twas the night before Christmas, And out on the ramp,
Not an airplane was stirring, Not even a Champ.
The aircraft were fastened, To tiedowns with care,
In hopes that come morning, They all would be there.
The fuel trucks were nestled, All snug in their spots,
With gusts from two-forty, At 39 knots.
I slumped at the fuel desk, Now finally caught up,
And settled down comfortably, Resting my butt.
When the radio lit up, With noise and chatter,
I turned up the scanner, To see what was the matter.
A voice clearly heard, Over static and snow,
Called for clearance to land, At the airport below.
He barked his transmission, So lively and quick,
Couldn’t hear him too well, But think his call sign was “St.Nick”.
I ran to the panel, To turn up the lights,
The better to welcome, This magical flight.
He called his position, No room for denial,
“St. Nicholas One, Turnin’ left onto final.”
And then to my wondering eyes, There did suddenly appear,
A Rutan-built sleigh, With eight Rotax Reindeer!
With vectors to final, Down the glide slope he came,
As he passed all fixes, He called them by name.
Now Ringo! Now Tolga! Now Trini and Bacun!
On Comet! On Cupid! ” What pills was he takin’?
While controllers were sittin’, And scratchin’ their head,
They phoned to my office, And I heard it with dread.
The message they left, Was both urgent and dour:
“When Santa pulls in, Have him please call the tower.”
He landed like silk, With the sled runners sparking,
Then I heard “Left at Charlie,” And “Taxi to parking.”
He slowed to a taxi, Turned off of three-oh,
And stopped on the ramp, With a “Ho-Ho-Ho…”
He stepped out of the sleigh, But before he talks,
I ran out to meet him, With my best set of chocks.
His red helmet and goggles, Were covered with frost,
And his beard was all blackened, From Reindeer exhaust.
His breath smelled like peppermint, Gone slightly stale,
And he puffed on a pipe, But didn’t inhale.
His cheeks were all rosy, And jiggled like jelly,
His boots were as black, As a cropduster’s belly.
He was chubby and plump, In his suit of bright red,
And he asked me to “fill it, With hundred low-lead.”
Then he came dashing in, From the snow-covered pump,
I knew he was anxious, For drainin’ the sump.
I spoke not a word, But went straight to my work,
And I filled up the sleigh, But I spilled like a jerk.
He came out of the restroom, And sighed in relief,
Then he picked up a phone, For a Flight Service brief.
And I thought as he silently, Scribed in his log,
These reindeer could land, In an eighth-mile fog.
He completed his pre-flight, From the front to the rear,
Then he put on his headset, And I heard him yell, “Clear!”
And laying a finger, On his push-to-talk,
He called up the tower, For clearance and squawk.
“Take taxiway Charlie, The southbound direction,
Turn right three-two-zero, At pilot’s discretion”
He sped down the runway, The best of the best,
“Your traffic’s a T-6, Inbound from the west”
Then I heard him proclaim, As he climbed thru the night,
“Merry Christmas to all! I have traffic in sight.
And one serious one-
The sea is cold, the night is dark… the blowing wind is crisp,
I stare across the ship’s huge deck… I did not get my wish.
I wanted so, to be at home… this year on Christmas Eve,
But this will be the year that I… did not get Christmas leave.
I stand and think about my family… gathered by the tree,
I know that one will say my name… and then they’ll think of me.
I am not there to share their joy… my country needs me here,
But I am not the only one… who won’t get home this year.
I miss my family but I am… on guard for my country,
Protecting those who can have Christmas… is my first duty.
Many men have given all… for us to have that right,
And I feel honored just to sacrifice… a Christmas night.
But still I’m feeling so alone… as many of us are,
As I just stand here on the deck… and watch a Christmas star.
I guess it is a Christmas star… it shines for all it’s worth,
And I think back to when a star… foretold His peace on earth.
If only people felt this calm… as on this Christmas Eve,
And not create hostilities… that make their brothers grieve.
Then we could have a peaceful world… as it was meant to be,
But until then we must stand guard… and this night it is me.
Once again my thoughts turn home… my family safe and sound,
Because this ship and other men… are ready to stand ground.
The Navy and the other branches… keep us safe and strong,
So those at home can celebrate… and sing their Christmas song.
But knowing that I must do this… I can’t hold back a tear,
Wishing I was home this Christmas… sharing in the cheer.
Seeing all my families faces… lights and Christmas trim,
Now the night is getting darker… as I think of them.
Trying now to fight this feeling… of such loneliness,
Softly speaking to myself… a lonely Christmas wish.
Actually my Christmas wish… is now a Christmas prayer,
Thank you for the men who serve… our country everywhere.
Thank you for our families… who enjoy this Christmas free,
Thank you for the other men… who serve this ship with me.
Thank you for allowing me… to make this sacrifice,
A joyous Christmas for our families… makes it worth the price.
May there be peace within you today.
May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
I believe that friends are quiet angels who lift us to our feet when our
Wings have trouble remembering how to fly.
As we approach Christmas, one makes choices…
How much can I afford to spend, and who do I buy things for?
What does that person want/need?
Are they old enough to appreciate the gift?
Do you buy for the parents or the kids? If so, do you check with the parents?
Can you actually GET the gift in time, or is it even legal in that location?
How do you corral the kids long enough to get the ^%*( gifts wrapped???
How do you integrate various family’s traditions?
How do you deal with those ‘inappropriate’ gifts? Like the three times regifted fruit cake?
Or the kids opening presents when your back is turned… Sigh…
I give up…
But sometimes, the looks are hilarious! A six foot plush toy for Kaya, who has NO idea what the hell has her surrounded… 🙂
Enjoy whatever traditions y’all have, do your best to keep your sanity, and remember- Tis the season… 🙂