Is This The Reform Club?

 

No, it's a Best Western Plus outside of Georgetown, Texas. Georgetown, word to the wise, is an Olde Worlde Texan town which lives cheek by jowl to Austin. Yes, the very same Austin that's twinned with San Francisco and the appalling SXSW music festival. Why, LSP, would you go to such a place, you ask with bated breath.

Because, dear friends, I had to celebrate a marriage there, in a little prairie gothic wooden chapel right off the town square. And you know what? It was perhaps the best wedding I've ever officiated at. Simple but dignified, totally not contrived, and a great company of people, young and old.

The bride was gorgeous and elegant, the groom and his men looked sharp and the whole thing was a joy to be at. Was it because almost every man there was former military, some having served with distinction? Quite possibly. Was it because nobody had any side or something to prove? Most definitely, what a down to earth group of people. Was it because the bride and groom are genuinely in love? Yes indeed, what a stand-up couple.

By way of a short homily, I counseled S&S to never, ever give up on one another, come hell or highwater and, when the going gets tough, persevere. At that point, which inevitably comes my friends, love becomes a sacrificial act of will, a conscious, deliberate, giving of oneself for the benefit and good of the beloved. With that in mind, never forget your vows. Viz:

I N. take thee N. to my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.

 

Till death do us part. Serious business, and in performing it, be assured of God's abundant blessing. To that end, I was more than happy to pronounce the couple Man and Wife and, in conclusion, we all fell back to the City Post for a fun and delicious reception meal.

I tell you, I've not celebrated a better wedding in over 30 years. Just a lot of fun and, I think, uniquely American or Texan. Optimistic, patriotic, down to earth, humorous, experienced but not jaded, eyes-wide-open good people with none of that old world clever cynicism we loathe and despise. Ranchers, soldiers, cops, doctors, pilots, hunters, fishermen, professors, you name it, and not a rainbow lib in sight. Great result.

At the end of the day I retired to the jolly old Best Western Plus and parsed the world with the Father of the Groom, an outstanding man and friend. Was he armed? Of course, think waistband 1911 .45 and a little XD boot gun in the same caliber. You see, free men can defend themselves, slaves cannot.

Your Pal,

LSP

Shoot

 

A young churchman called, "We're shooting skeet this evening at the ranch to knock the rust off before Opening Day. Are you in?" Sure I was, and loaded a new CZ over and under 20 gauge into the rig and drove off to the countryside.

It's not far, and before you could say Dialectical Materialism is rubbish, there we were, five shooters and a couple of spectators in a ranch shop, checking out guns, shaking hands and all of that. Then we set up in the shade of an old oak and got down to it.

First up, two shooters on the firing line with Old LSP throwing the clays. Boom! Smoke that skeet! Good work boys, didn't take long at all to get in the zone. Then it was my turn, would the CZ work, would I work? Magnum mysterium. But lo and behold, I somehow remembered how to shoot and was up there with the young 'uns. What a lot of fun. But here's the thing.

The boys were shooting 12 gauge pumps, mostly newer Remington 870 Wingmasters, to be precise, and guess what, their weapons kept jamming. My CZ 20? Worked flawlessly, as well as being lighter and easier to shoot. I tell you, I'm a double barrel 20 convert after years of 12 gauge pumpery (Mossberg Ulti Mag and Wingmaster). For that matter and for the most part, I'd go for a double 12 over a pump, they're more reliable. 

Mind you, a smooth working pump does have that rate of fire advantage, so there is that. Double v. Pump, 12 v. 20 reverie over, my shoot was done and I left the guys striking steel with various deadly assault rifles and banned in England pistols. 

What a great evening and so good to get out in the clean air and big sky of Texas, with the added bonus of putting lead on clay to boot. Maybe we need to organize a church shoot, with BBQ, obviously, and prizes for taking out John Lennon CDs at 500 yards.

#2A,

LSP

Dallas Reflections

 

When you think of Dallas do you think of the ancient TV show featuring JR Ewing? Perhaps, but regardless, one of the things you get to do in LSPland is drive there, down the murder expressway called I35. I did so today, bumper to bumper tailgating crazy at 85/90 mph. Whatev, same old.

Before long you get to the outer reaches of the massive DFW connurb, but keep on, foot on the pedal, and then there it is, rising like a gunmetal OZ, Dallas' skyline. No small thing and especially emerald impressive at night.

Don't be fooled, though. Get in amongst those gleaming glass and steel towers, which rise Babel to the sky, and what do you find? Beggars, indigents, homeless encampments and associated ne'er do wells chancing it in triple digit climate change. We've moved, you see, into SUMMER. It's like this ineluctable climatic progression.

That in mind, take the Illinois exit, head south on Zang past old and new ghetto housing and ride on 'til you hit Davies and Bishops Arts. Marvel at the throngs hanging out at various bars and eateries, wonder at multiple apartment blocks which have sprung up in the last couple of years, and mourn the tragic passing of Ten Bells and Hattie's, two BA stalwarts which went under post COVID.

Oh well. Hang a right opposite the appalling PHD Pourhouse sports bar and into this neat wine shop. Buy a bot and get into a convo with the staff. Like this: 

"Hey, man, I saw you went into here by the door." You pause and reply, "Yeah, that's what I did."

"But why did you do it that way, was there, like, a METHOD?"

"Say again?"

"A method?"

"Sure there was. I walked in the door and spotted some kind of white zin on offer and wanted to look further, that's why I ended up by your fridge and this great bottle of Malbec."

"Wow, man, you sound like Elon Musk!"

"Is that a good thing, brother?"

"Yeah it it is, all good, man."

 

I looked at my tattooed counterparts, what were they, extras for Pirates of the Caribbean?, and gave both boys a sunny hello goodbye. Yeah, they'll be laughing when they're extradited to England. Good luck with that, stoneheads.

Vinter's done, fall back to Ma LSP, who's watching a neat show called, "Why Does Everyone Hate Meghan Markle?" What a good show. Surely not because she's a D-List, simpering, fraudulent, delta minus semi moron, social climber, gold digging Hollywood fool. Surely not, and a witch who ensorcelled Harry with her witch power. He, of course, is obviously an idiot.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Well Shoot

 

"Dad, let's go for a shoot." I thought about this, "What kind of shoot?" The once and maybe future Cadet replied, "A pistol shoot, my pal's never shot one because Canada and needs to get on it." I reflected on this, "D'ye know what .45 ACP costs, son?" and long story short, loaded up some guns in the rig and headed for the range.

First up, a no name Italian O/U 12 and a CZ 20 SxS, would the skeet survive the flak barrage? At first they did but we warmed up, smoking those clays like orange Focke Wulf's going down over France. Nice, good work, if remedial for me.

Then we moved on to .45 and I was genuinely impressed by the kids, really good shooting. Well done boys, and especially Canadian pal, right on in there without any prior experience, a natural. Hey, shoot on, and so we did, finishing up with a Ruger American .22 against random clays, shotgun shells, and assorted steel at 50 and 100 yards. Big fun.

Mission accomplished, we headed back to base and ordered pizza, cleaned weapons and all was well. What a great afternoon in the field.

#2A,

LSP