Musings on human animals and eccentricities

NFrameFred

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Often threads here are grist for the foibles of our species . . . just read the one (Estate Disaster.....do not read this!!!!!!!) about the estate sale where a lot of the guns were 'modified', or as some of the more pained or less charitable called them, 'Bubba'ed'.

I worked for close to 50 years in engineering fields in mining, surveying, map making and civil projects and it came to me early on that there seemed to be two main distinct types of people who gravitated towards these disciplines. First the side I identified with, that crave and need order and organization and incorporate that into the way we approach the work. The other side, naturally talented folks who visualize the big picture and can keep up with the details in their heads - I have found that these types have filing systems only decipherable to the Good Lord and themselves. Random stacks of papers, drawings, manuals, books and files cover every square inch of furniture in their work space/office and if they die or leave most of it has to be thrown out because it's meaningless and unfathomable to most anyone else. But I've seen such asked about a particular detail or project from weeks, months, or even years ago and watch them think for a minute or two and dig into the middle of a seemingly random stack of paper and in short order come up with the information. It always boggled my mind.

I see a lot of the same parallels in some who share our interests in firearms and shooting to a degree. While I draw the line in standing too close on the range with someone like that who likes to reload, most of the time it comes down to the mindset that they do not treat their firearms as a good number of us do and cause some of us to wince or shake our heads experiencing an involuntary shudder at some of their practices.

We all know someone who says "they're just tools" or "I bought them to shoot, not baby to death" and I agree with and understand that viewpoint - to a point. But growing up what could described as 'poor' in many places it was always impressed upon me how much hard work was involved for a lot of folks to have anything over and above 'the basics'. I saw that first hand in a father who worked hard to provide and denied himself for the sake of the welfare of his family. Consequently, I've always striven to take good care of the things I labored for that could be classified as 'extras'.

Went hunting with guys who wouldn't use a high dollar gun for fear of scratching it (which, for me, would diminish the joy of having it), as well a couple whose hunting guns looked as if they'd been drug behind a truck at the end of a logging chain - and their whole collection looked like that if they'd had them for at least a year or two. I tend to fall somewhere in between - no need to have it if I won't use it, but no need to treat something I worked and paid good money for as disposable. A few years ago I went online shopping for a custom gunsmith to ostensibly build a hunting rifle on an action I had and when it came to the item of the stock I was asked what kind of wood I wanted; I replied that as it was to be a hunting/field piece I was thinking of a composite material less susceptible to weather and temperature concerns . . . at least two smiths of some renown sneeringly told me over the phone "I don't work in plastic!". So someone else built my rifle.

Those of us who struggle with the baser tendencies of our natures sometimes have trouble leaning to live and let live, especially when it feels like some unappreciative Philistine rubs us the wrong way. To each his own . . . I do notice that (if I'm correct) that due to the knowledgeable, fastidious, compulsive and peculiarly particular nature of most on this forum that those who might champion the opposing viewpoint tend to keep it to themselves. But then, sometimes we all have a bad day now and again :D


It's just as well politics and religion are verboten topics here. I fear many of us who have a favorable view of each other in general may tend to fall a rung or two in each other's estimation when such subjects would inevitably heat up. ;)
 
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Well said. I watched my dad do without my whole life so that my mom didn’t have to work and could be home to raise 5 kids. He taught me early on to take care of my things. They don’t grow on trees. Like you NFrame he was from Wet Virginia. He left the the farm at 18 for the big city and a job at Bethlehem Steel. He never had indoor plumbing growing up. He talked of an old wheel and stick as his favorite toy growing up. Yeah he taught me to appreciate things and treat them well.
 
Soon I'll be driving to see family. I'll be taking possession of a few rifles that I had cared for in the past. These arms tended to improve in my care. Bores cleaned, actions made immaculate and given my best attempts at preservation. These will mostly live in my safe, largely retired from the potentially hostile environments that gave cause to my initial efforts.
They are of steel, wood, and perhaps arguably ... soul.
Their former duties will be taken up by things in the AR platform for the most part. Dents dings and breakage are of far less consequence when we wade through an endless sea of replacement parts for them.
A mod 94 was once so common, they were difficult to avoid. Today, not so much. Reaction on the range by those in the know seemed akin to acknowledging it's the last of its kind. The 32 special, actually lives up to it's name now. To think it was once the cast off ugly sibling to the thirty thirty that most didn't want either.
Today, since I reload, I'm the only one that can use it, so it's mine.
It's proven delightful with gas checked cast lead. So it will enjoy some service, just not the grueling kind it saw through generations prior. The 350 legend will do in it's place, facing the wrath of the environment.
 
A late friend loved to hunt and owned two rifles. They were both Winchester post 64 Model 70's in 300 Winchester mag. If one broke or he had scope problems he had no difficulties acclimating himself to his spare.

The very nature of what he did made so much sense to him and had so little excitement per my views.
 
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