Monday, April 28, 2008

Myths, the Dispelling of

I am frequently amazed at how things I thought people had stopped believing will, at the oddest moments, pop back up. I haven't even gotten out much recently because I've been sick, again. Anyway...

When I was a kid studying various martial arts I heard repeatedly, from ostensibly good sources, that if your life was in danger you could kill a person with a single strike delivered to the nose with the palm at an upward angle. It seems everyone knew this. Except, it's not true. Sheer, utter balderdash. I'm pretty confident of this because it's been done to me, twice. The first time I'm sure the guy had no intention of killing me, he was just trying to win the fight. The second instance I'm less sure about. In both cases my nose shattered like antique china and I subsequently pounded my assailant into the ground. It is pretty disabling. Your nose, usually broken at that point, starts to run with both blood and mucus, your eyes tear up and want to close, and your vision gets blurry. It CAN be a fight stopper, but for someone, like me, who has been exposed to something like OC a few times, it'll only slow them down marginally.

As you can see, there is no bone in the nose to 'shove into a person's brain.'

There is a bony bit between the eyes, but if you're hitting that, it's likely your opponent isn't moving, so you shouldn't be hitting him anyway.

There are other ways to kill with bare hands if and when necessary, but I'm a little hesitant to post them.

Next myth is mostly funny.

"If I keep my pistol in a fanny pack, no one will know I have one." Hah! That hasn't fooled anyone in years! Okay, caveat, women can sometimes get away with it, when dressed for running for example. Men cannot. Wifey and I were at a Subaru dealership a few days ago and a guy had a fanny pack on and not only did the wifey and I know he was armed, everyone in the dealership did. I even heard one of the salesmen ask him if he was a cop or a permit holder. Guy got a little embarrassed. Turned out he was a cop.

So stop it guys, you're not fooling anyone!

Thursday, April 17, 2008

BAG day purchase, well not really

So it was made clear to me that for my chosen line of work, I needed a new pistol. Preferably two or three actually, but at least one. None of the guns I currently owned were right for it. Little bit of a bummer, trust me. I've been carrying and using 1911s for darn near a decade, and because they are single action and have a light trigger, it would be bad to use one in a job where I have to point guns at people from time to time (not wanting to shoot them, but willing to) and even worry about someone else trying to wrestle it from me.

So I've been doing asking some questions, which started with some pros who have been doing the job for some time already, and doing some research. Well, today I bought myself a brand new Springfield Armory XD Compact in .45 caliber with tritium night sights. A very nice gun. I handled it, fond it WAY more comfortable than a Glock, stripped and reassembled, tested for accuracy, everything. The trigger was something else, smooth as butter with a crisp break. Not too heavy or too light, although I may get it adjusted to a heavier pull (I really don't want to shoot a defendant). All checks out, very slick.

I'm obviously very happy, even though I won't have it in hand until Monday since I wanted (needed, really) the night sights. What good is a concealed carry permit if I can't take a recent purchase home the day I buy it? Oh well.

Only one complaint. She's accurate, reliable, affordable, fairly concealable, and has no safety selector, removing an unnecessary step. The only problem is...

(picture removed because I shouldn't have used it)

It is kinda ugly.
Oh well, functionality creates a beauty all its own. Too bad I believe in carrying the same concealed handgun all the time to prevent confusion at the wrong moment. I sure am going to miss carrying Julie (my fav 1911).

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

The next time I hear...

...About how we should end the war because it's all our sons, daughters, etc in Iraq, I'm going to verbally, and quiet possibly physically, beat the speaker down. Let me make something ABUNDANTLY clear. This war has been going on longer than everyone's enlistments, which means everyone NOW in the military chose to be in WHILE THE WAR WAS GOING ON!

Why is that so significant? Because they all knew what they were getting into and did it anyway. It was THEIR choice to serve in a time of war. So instead of all this crap about bringing our family members home only undermines the sacrifices and dedication of those serving.

There is no more disgusting thing to me than, "Oh, my son is over there fighting, so we have to end the war!" You know what? SCREW YOU! Your son (daughter, husband, wife, whatever) is doing what he believes in and all you're doing is trying to keep him from doing it. Traitors to both their country and their family member in question.

I consider myself something of an expert on the topic. After all, I've been both the boots on the ground and the spouse waiting at home. Nearly all my friends are either military, or were. If anyone has an interest in keeping service members alive, it's me. AND YOU"LL NEVER HEAR ME SAY SOME CRAP LIKE THAT. I love them all for who they are and because they believe in what they do.

As to the tired soundbite, "What would you do if it was your son in Iraq?" Bah! Easy, I'd be damned pround of the little scamp and rest assured that I'd brought him up right.

Anyone who disagrees with me here is more than welcome to take a long walk off a short pier. My patience on this issue is GONE, and the next person to set me off will regret it immensely. I don't care who it is.

Note: This is cross posted from my old blog which I don't use any more, if you've read this already, sorry.


You know, paying quite a pretty penny to be tased and subsequently sprayed with OC seems a lot less like a good idea in retrospect. (Not really.)

So, as I said earlier, I was away attending the Pacific Northwest Bail Enforcement Academy. It was certainly educational. I, fortunately, never got to mention to the head instructor my previous involvement in bail enforcement. Not that that really matters, as he asked for a link to this blog and I'll be sending it to him. Why do I say that? Turns out what I was being taught to do was one hundred eighty degrees WRONG. I had suspected as much the whole time I was doing it, but never voiced my concern. Turns out I should have run from those yahoos from the get-go. I'm lucky as hell I was never charged with anything or sued back then. It was a little humbling having that all spelled out for me so clearly.

Some of you may have noticed that I made some slight changes to my account. These were done to make my internet persona harder to find. Not that I expect this blog to ever be linked to any of my professional activities, but why take the chance?

On to the fun stuff.

So I learned all about the bail enforcement industry last weekend. More, in fact, in four days than I did in the five months I actually spent doing it. The funny part is, the guys I was supposedly learning from very likely didn't know any better either and now I know why. All very interesting, and mostly stuff I won't talk about except to fellow Alumni.

The Taser, however, is a story you guys probably want to hear. Now most of you know I've been shot, beaten, stabbed, blown-(partially)-up, sprayed with OC, etc and was never fully incapacitated. I may not have the nerve and physical condition of my youth, but I'm still a scrappy kind of guy. That said, I had mixed expectation of the taser. On the one hand, I've fought through everything that's ever been thrown at me before, on the other, I've seen videos of guys way tougher than me getting dropped.

So we do the class, get the knowledge and such out of the way. Pretty interesting, actually. Then it was time for 'participation.' I, alas, was not the first volunteer. We had a former Recon marine who went first (if you're wondering why I won't use names, it's for the same reason I changed my profile). I've never seen such a tough guy surrender so quickly, and he didn't even get the probes (darts), just contact with the leads on the face of the taser. Little intimidating, lemme tell you. So I volunteered to take the full shot, barbed probes and all. The instructor and I had discussed the back pain I'd been having and he said he'd do my leg if I thought that was a better idea. I agreed and the same marine and an agent out of Idaho took on arm apiece and the instructor deployed the probes on my leg. Now bear in mind I'm not a weight lifter, I jerked both my spotters so hard that they lost their footing, then I dropped hard. Not their fault, they at least prevented me from bashing my head.

Ladies and gentleman, while I still have reservations on the suitability of tasers for self-defense, if they're all you can have, trust me, they will take someone down. Hard. I tried to see if I could stay up, resist somehow. Nothing doing. I went down like a sack of jumpy potatoes.

Next was good old OC spray. Wasn't too big a thing. I went first, half expected to get as messed up as the first time I got sprayed. It had, afterall, been eight years since my last direct exposure. Despite getting a stream directly in my right eye, it was actually the least painful of all my exposures. Not to stay it didn't hurt, but other than the eye is was easily bearable, and I got the eye cleaned out pretty quick. All the former military in the class went through with a minimum of fuss and muss and I thought that was pretty cool, until our ex-cop went through. I don't know how many times that guy had been contaminated, but if I hadn't seen the spray douse him, I would have thought the instructor missed. No reaction at all. Needless to say, I was impressed.

I did, unfortunately, make a bit of an ass of myself a little during the tactics portion. The instructor was younger and less experienced than me, so I kept butting in. Fortunately, I realized what I was doing and how silly it was (seeing as all my experience was either military or doing it the wrong way) and shut up before I was told to. Still feel bad about it though. Oops.

My foibles not withstanding, everyone was great and, despite an abundance of alpha males, we all got along really well. I consider that pretty important since this industry almost requires you to have friends in it to get anywhere and I wouldn't hesitate to ask any of the instructors or visiting Alumni for any help I need. Awesome guys all around.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Parting shots


No big suprise there, but I'm a little dissappointed. I suspect my lacking crates of MREs (stored food) knocked my score down a bit. Oh well.

What else...?

It is true that I may someday be killed with one of my own guns, just as the hoplophobes claim. However, the bastard'll have to climb mounds of his dead buddies first and beat me to death with the thing since I'll be out of bullets.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008


Just as I'm back...I must go again.

Turns out the dates for my bail enforcement training are a bit earlier than I thought they were. With everything else going on, I suppose letting something slip was inevitable. Regardless, class starts on the 11th and I'll be staying with friends closer to Tacoma while attending, so I'll be gone again.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Interesting times indeed.

So, the wifey and I got back from Oregon, I dutifully breathed life back into our old computer, and I finally settled in to resume blogging...and it was time for us to take another trip. In one fell swoop, the wifey managed to visit the two largest military hospitals here in Washington. Then we came home, and we got sick. Not just a little bit sick, but tug-of-war with Death/snarling back at the wolf/spitting into the void kind of sick.


I'm now happily on the road to recovery and have been trying to catch up on the intrawebs. In my absence Charleton Heston died (R.I.P.) and David Codrea's War on Guns is now linking to me. Damn. To the former, we can now say not even from his cold dead hands (if that seems in bad taste, bear in mind, Chuck himself would approve), and to the later, that's just cool.

Now that all seems to be returning to normal here at the manor, blogging will, hopefully, return to normal.