This thread brought back a memory from probably ten years ago. I had
bought a Glock Model 22 .40 caliber. I was going to go to the range one
day and my grandson, who is a cop, showed up. He volunteered to go
with me. We pulled the target out to 25 yards, and I handed him the
Glock to go first. He shot a half dozen shots, reeled the target in, looked
at it and said there's something wrong with your sights. I sent the target
back out and shot once, as luck would have it, dead center in the bull's
eye. I got to sound like Clint Eastwood when I said "ain't nothing wrong
with these sights".

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In Omnia Paratus