May 28, 2005
another blister on my thumb
I confess--- I am a western movie addict. I watched the entire John Wayne marathon on the Western Channel (at least PARTS of all of it) on the Duke's birthday, and I NEVER miss a new "Gunsmoke" rerun. I've been keeping score of how many people Matt Dillon shot dead on that show and I am approaching 100 notches on his gun now.
I LOVED a line I heard on "Gunsmoke" this morning. Festus warned Matt, "I don't know who he was, but he says he don't like you, Matthew, and he aims to kill ya."
Matt responded, "Well... that certainly narrows the field, now doesn't it?"
BWHAHAHAHAHAAA! That's one of the reasons I love that show so much. Matt Dillon had a LOT of enemies. But he had a set of balls the size of grapefruits.
Call it fantasy all you want to, but I have a non-existent pistol that looks a lot like the one Matt carries, and my friend catfish bought me a non-existent holster for it when we went to the blog-meet in Helen last fall. It's a gunslinger holster, and I've worked that leather with oil and treatment until it's soft as a baby's ass now.
I've been practicing my quick-draw.
That's a lot harder than it looks on television. I've figured out the trick now, and I am deadly on cardboard boxes and pictures of attorneys in the phone book. The trick is to cock the pistol (non-existent, of course) as it's coming out of the holster and be ready to shoot as soon as you "feel" the target. You can't draw, cock and fire with any speed.
I understand now why a lot of true western gunslingers wore the side-draw guns. With one of those, you come out of the holster with the gun parallel to the ground and there's less chance of putting one into the dirt in front of your target. Less chance of shooting your own damn fool self in the foot, too.
I wore another blister on my right thumb practicing my quick-draw in the woods yesterday. I imagined myself shooting up two boxes of shells and I had a good time doing it. (Of course, this was all a dream I had on my couch, when I was taking an afternoon nap. The blister on my thumb actually came from touching a hot burner on my kitchen stove.) I may not be Billy The Kid yet, but I'm gaining on it.
Of course, I brought my imaginary gun back home, took it apart and cleaned it, then spent an hour putting the damn thing back together. I have vivid dreams, and I must not be nearly as mechanically-inclined in my dreams as I think I am. I had to get the imaginary instruction book and study it to reassemble the imaginary pistol. I don't know where that smell of gun oil came from, but the non-existent pistol is back in working order.
Of course, this post is all pure fiction. I don't own that gun, OR that quick-draw holster. And I don't have a blister on my thumb, either.
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