The rig hummed along, thank you very much after a fortune spent at the aptly named "shop," and all was well with rural Texas as I drove to visit a sick cowboy. We talked about liturgy and society at the ranch as well as the Holy Cross Fathers.
Their erstwhile supremo married a nun who'd got herself into trouble for witchcraft in Africa, Una Kroll. Una went on to champion womyn priests and died last year. I don't know if she remained married to the former monk.
After anointing my friend I drove to Waco. "What you going there for?" he asked, hopefully recovering his spirits. "To get some things for my new gun," I replied, quick as you like and then some, "It's a 7.62 battle rifle."
Fun Guns on Franklin supplied the deficit along with the extra bonus of late '70s music on the store jukebox. Go ahead, shop for AR15 barrels, Magpul accessories and all things weaponry while listening to the Clash.
"I say," I asked a youthful shop assistant, "Are you the only deadly assault rifle store in town that plays Machine Gun Etiquette and God Save The Queen on some kind of loop?" The pleasant young man looked embarrassed, made a needless excuse and took all my money. Thanks a lot, Malcolm so-called McLaren.
Wallet several pounds lighter I headed for home and a kid who wants to enlist. He's at the gym now working out and he'll have to if he's going to lift the new rifle. So will I.
Gun rights,
LSP
