DC Looms Before Me

Tomorrow I fly to DC. On Thursday and Friday, I’ll attend the National Day of Prayer and a dinner with Rabbi Yechiel Eckstein, founder of the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews. On Friday, I’ll be at a breakfast at the Israeli Embassy, and then I’ll tour the Holocaust Museum.

It’s an honor to be invited. Still, I wish they could hold these events somewhere else. Washington, DC is a hotbed of violent crime, and the Second Amendment does not exist there, and I won’t be able to carry a gun. The hotel where I’ll be staying sounds borderline dangerous. The events should be wonderful, but the city takes a lot of the shine off the trip.

Maybe they should meet in the IFCJ’s hometown instead. But wait. That’s CHICAGO. Arghh. Suddenly DC doesn’t look all that bad.

Here’s the main reason I decided to go: I want to walk by faith. This is one of those improbable opportunities God drops on people, and I want to stay in the flow of God’s will, so I accepted the invitation. I know there is a reason for it, and good things will result from my obedience. I hope that doesn’t sound ungracious. I’m extremely enthusiastic about the events. But how can anyone get excited about DC? It’s like visiting Fallujah. They should call it East Detroit.

Boy, that gun control works wonders, doesn’t it? Look how safe DC and Chicago are. I almost wish I were a gun-grabbing Congressman, so I would have heavily armed police, federal agents, and military personnel to take care of me.

I hope people will pray for my safety, and that I’ll accomplish whatever it is that God wants done.

I will not be afraid, though ten thousands of people set themselves against me, round about. Though an host should encamp about me, my heart shall not fear. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me. No evil shall befall me, neither shall any plague come nigh my dwelling, for God shall give his angels charge over me, to keep me in all my ways. They shall bear me up in their hands, lest I dash my foot against a stone.

All the same, I wish I could take my Glock.

I am not a great fan of Miami, but the prospect of visiting DC helps me see the positive aspects of this place. I can carry a gun everywhere I go, including church. I am not very likely to need it. And I don’t have to spend much time in the decrepit heart of the city. This is not Tennessee or Texas, but it’s a huge step up from DC, New York, Chicago, LA, or any of the big eastern seaboard cities. Those places are like twenty years away from Soylent Green conditions. Detroit is already there. I think it’s where they filmed the outdoor shots for Battlefield Earth.

Safety is the only thing about the hotel that concerns me. I am not picky about accommodations. I’ll take ear plugs and decongestant spray, and those things should cover the most likely problems. I just want clean sheets and a temperature between 70 and 75 degrees, and I’ll be fine.

The food up there should be good. Miami is not a great restaurant town, and I cook better than any restaurant I know of, so I have no motivation to go out. DC has Indian and Ethiopian food, so I’m hoping to try a couple of places. I would love to have a big plate of beef or lamb bhuna and some terrifying appetizers. No one in Miami will use enough peppers; they’re abject cowards. Maybe the Indians in DC will take me seriously.

I’ll Have the Bollinger

I just cleaned the LR-308.

I am not sure what to make of the experience.

On the one hand, the fit and finish, in and of themselves, made the experience a joy. My Smith & Wesson pistols are about as cute as the LR-308, but my other guns seem pretty clunky in comparison. The LR-308 fits together perfectly and has no flaws I can spot with the naked eye. Cleaning it is like giving a massage to a supermodel. Except that I will never know what it’s like to give a massage to a supermodel.

The design is impressive, too. This is my first AR-type rifle, so I’ve never taken one apart before. I love the way it comes apart without fuss. You never have to reach for a hammer, the way you might have to when stripping an Eastern-bloc rifle. The pins are tight, but the tightest one will come out if you shove it with a hex wrench. The main pins come out without tools of any kind.

Still, while the gun seems finely made, I am a little distressed by the knowledge required to lubricate it and put it back together. Lubricate this lightly. Lubricate that heavily. Make sure this part is turned this way when you put the gun together, because if it’s not, the gun will explode.

I am positive I remember the cam pin thing in the bolt going in at an angle 90° different from the angle at which I left it after reassembly, but I must be wrong. Hope nothing blows up.

With an AK, you can push and beat on things and make it go together in a hurry, while wearing mittens. To put the AR together, you really should have a quiet study, a big table, a nice lamp, a martini, and a good classical piano CD. I have to wonder how many soldiers have been shot while trying to put an M16 together quickly.

The AR seems like the kind of semi-auto James Bond would use. The AK is more for shrieking imbeciles eager to kill random infidels with as little training as possible.

I also cleaned the Vz 58, which took like 25% as long.

I need a trigger for the LR-308. Jim from Smoke on the Water suggests a McCormick trigger, about which I know nothing. He says it comes in double-stage and single-stange, curved or flat.

Great. Four options to think about. I don’t know why anyone would want a straight trigger. Seems like it would not hold onto the finger very well.

The Vz 58’s trigger is unbelievable, and as far as I can tell, it’s single-stage. I love it. I am inclined, on that basis, to go with something similar for the LR-308. But ten minutes after I install it, I know someone will email me and explain that I should have gotten double-stage.

I wonder what the Vz 58 would do, scoped. It’s not supposed to be all that accurate, but with a trigger like that, you can’t help but wonder. Scope mounts for this gun are pretty weird because of the way it ejects.

I’m pretty disappointed in my Boresnake. I ran it through the LR-308 before using patches, and I still got lots of blue when I started cleaning the gun conventionally. Lots of black, too. When I use the Boresnake on pistols, it leaves a mirror-polished surface in three swipes. But maybe that’s an illusion. Maybe I’m just polishing the copper residue.

I have realized I know nothing about cleaning guns. I thought the way to do it (pre-Boresnake) was to start with Hoppe’s and a wire brush, but the product directions I read today suggest a brush is only needed for a filthy, neglected gun. Does this mean a brush is too rough to use every time? I have also been informed that solvent eats brushes with copper in them.

It’s hard for me to believe that running a patch through a barrel one time does anything, but that’s what the literature seems to suggest. Use patch after patch, on a jag, and don’t change directions. I must have put 15 patches through the LR-308. Oddly, the Vz 58, after a hundred rounds of Wolf, was extremely clean except for the gas tube.

I don’t see why jags would work any better than a loopy thing (pardon the technical jargon). The loopy things I have are equipped with thick portions that would seem to do exactly what a jag does.

After I cleaned the Vz 58, I stuck it in the 35″ Bulldog bag I got from Classic Arms. I’m impressed. Very compact and easy to carry. I doubt the curved magazines will fit in the little outside pockets, but I haven’t checked. I can wrap them and put them in with the gun.

I still need a bag for the LR-308. It’s weird that DPMS sells sightless rifles in cases that won’t accommodate a scope, but that’s how it is. I guess I’m expected to buy some kind of mount that detaches when I go home.

The Radway ammunition I bought is attracting criticism RE accuracy. I’m wondering: should I go ahead and start reloading? I have a bunch of cases now, but it looks like this stuff is not reloadable without a lot of misery. Should I expect to be able to create sub-MOA ammunition with my limited skill set and microscopic attention span? I dunno.

Of course, the up side of the ammo criticism is that it implies that I’m not a terrible rifle shot. If the ammunition is quirky, maybe I’m not so bad. I do okay with the .17 HMR.

I’m going to get an elbow pad and something to go between me and the butt of the gun, so I can shoot more without getting sore. I still love the truck stop floor mats, though. What a bargain. And they keep your guns off the scratchy range benches.

I’m glad I got the LR-308. Now all I need is an AR15 in one of the Grendel-y calibers, and I’ll be ready for long days of zombie-shootin’ and Sicilian pizza, out on the front porch.

Plus Gun Stuff

Yesterday was pretty weird. It was a blast, but the usual speed bumps popped up.

I made pizza and rolls at church, and we also served apple pie and brownies I had brought to an event the night before. So it was pretty much like going to a restaurant in which I was the chef.

We didn’t sell much pizza. Why? No can opener, and not enough helpers. We keep buying cheap can openers, and they don’t like #10 cans much. One broke last week, and someone was supposed to replace it with a commercial can opener, but that did not happen, and I didn’t know until it was time to make sauce. That cost me the whole first service.

I had to attend the third service, so I couldn’t make pizza, and there was no one else available except for my eleven-year-old assistant. I can’t turn him loose without supervision, so I closed up shop. We sold six pies and six dozen rolls.

I have a problem with the people out front selling the rolls too cheap. I had to go out and remind them that the flour costs money. You can’t sell four rolls for a dollar and survive. The price is fifty cents each or $2.50 for half a dozen. I don’t mind making rolls if it will generate a hundred bucks for the church, but I’m not going to fool with them if the net is five dollars.

The apple pies were wonderful. The cream cheese crust I came up with is a dream come true. It’s flaky, it tastes and smells great, and it’s fairly tough, so it won’t fall apart when you’re making or serving the pie. It’s not tough in the sense that it’s not tender. It just doesn’t break up at the wrong times.

It gave me a fantastic idea for rolls. I make chocolate and strawberry/cheesecake croissants, but they’re a pain to prepare. The pie crust is somewhat similar to a croissant, and it has an even better flavor. I decided to add yeast and turn it into rolls. They were incredible. Better than croissants. They aren’t quite as flaky, but the flavor is magnificent. And they’re easy to make. Make dough in a food processor, roll it out, make rolls, let them rise, bake.

As dinner rolls, these things have no equal of which I am aware. Add a little sugar, and you have the perfect substrate for something similar to a strawberry or chocolate croissant.

I believe God drops these ideas on me out of nowhere. The Sicilian pizza still freaks me out, and so do the garlic rolls. I am not going to take credit for this stuff. That is a sure way to cause problems.

It’s wonderful having trained chefs to talk to. I’m not used to that. We exchange ideas about food, and we’re all pretty excited about cooking.

One of the chefs–Ruthie–told me men made the best cooks. That was surprising, but I think she’s right. The best cooks I’ve known have been men. I think it’s because we’re more aggressive with the food. We’ll try absolutely anything. After all, I’m the guy who made a casserole filled with doughnuts. And how many women will design a smoke box for a smoker, cut out the parts with a grinder, and weld them together?

These days, a lot of women disdain any type of work associated with housekeeping, so I suppose many women would feel silly bragging about their cookies and brownies. Hillary Clinton sneered at women who make cookies; we all remember that. This self-destructive and perverse snobbery is probably one of the reasons most modern women don’t cook well.

It’s very sad that we have so little respect for good housekeepers and child-rearers, because their work is more important than breadwinning. Think about it: in fifty years, will anyone care about your raise or the great Powerpoint presentation you did? Of course not. Those things chiefly affect strangers who don’t care whether you live or die. But the things a wife and mother does have direct and lasting impact within the family. Her job is to prepare the next generation and to create an environment in which the other members of the family can thrive. And besides, the preparation of good food is an altruistic expression of love.

Even a salmon understands the importance of putting the next generation first. Come to think of it, my pastor talked about that yesterday. Shoveling money at your kids is fine, but it’s no substitute for hands-on, traditional parenting.

One of the women at church started telling me I should open a restaurant. I waved my hands at the food, and I said, “I HAVE a restaurant.” But I appreciated the compliment. I have considered opening a pizza joint, but it has occurred to me that a gun shop might be more practical, not to mention much less expensive.

There are very few gun shops around here, and most of them are no good. The prices are generally bad, and most shops have poor service. When a good shop opens up, people go. And it’s a much easier business to run than a restaurant. You don’t have to come in at 6 a.m. and put yeast in the guns so they can rise. You don’t have to wash the guns or carry out bags of smelly gun scraps at 11 p.m. There are no gun inspectors counting your cockroaches or forcing you to remodel in order to conform to unrealistic codes. You show up, sell stuff, do the paperwork, and go home. It’s a nine-to-five job. You buy for x dollars and sell for x plus a profit. It is not rocket science. And you don’t need two hundred thousand dollars’ worth of commercial cooking equipment that breaks down when you need it most. Nor do you need a big staff of skilled people. Any honest person with a fair knowledge of guns can work for you.

On top of that, we have Barack Obama. The greatest gun salesman in history. This man has literally made gun sellers rich. While he’s in office, you can’t lose!

Sign a lease, get a license, put thirty grand into inventory and renovations, and you’re a gun shop owner. That’s how it seems, anyway. If things go sour, sell the inventory and go home. You won’t be like the failed restaurateurs on Craigslist, begging people to buy their dreams for twenty cents on the dollar.

South Florida needs someone who sells reloading stuff. If you buy powders and primer over the Internet, you get royally dinged on the hazmat fees. A local place that made a respectable effort should do well. I use Accurate No.7 for my .38 Super, and trying to buy this well-known product in Miami is like trying to score plutonium.

This week, I’m going to DC to participate in the National Day of Prayer and some events sponsored by the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews. I’ll be visiting Mike. I am distressed that I’ll be in a crime-plagued city without a sidearm. I’ve gotten so used to the security of concealed carry that it bothers me to think I’ll be unarmed up there. I decided to stay at a hotel, and while I was looking for good ones, I kept reading reviews referring to bulletproof glass and scary parking lots. What a failure that city must be, as a place to live. The Detroit of the East Coast. I want to get in and out, fast. I would appreciate prayers for my safety.

I don’t like Miami much, but I thank God I live in a place where I am permitted to take care of myself. When I get out of here and move to more rural setting, I think it will feel like paradise. Nicer people, less traffic, same gun rights, more room…that would be nice.

I look forward to getting some good food in DC. Indian and maybe Ethiopian. Mike is scanning the horizon for opportunities.

I didn’t want to go (still don’t), but it seemed like God’s hand was in it, and it’s wonderful to be invited to these events.

This might be a good day for some experimental cooking. I would really like to finalize that roll recipe.

Gallery of stuff I cooked:

Something From my Inbox

Prayer request from Heather:

Mom’s three month biopsy from last Friday has shown some growth in the cancer. We have to wait for the oncologist and the radiation oncologist to get together and come up with a plan of attack, they think it will be by next Thursday before we hear anything. I just keep begging the Lord to cleanse this cancer from her body. Paedric and I need her so much, as I know that this new baby girl will need her too.
I have to be at UK Hospital at 5:30 AM for delivery on Monday.
Please keep us in your prayers.

First Shalt Thou Pull Out the Holy Pin

Having an incredible day. My prayer group met at Denny’s this morning, and as usual, God told each of us to say pretty much what the others needed to hear. Lots of “coincidences” and useful info.

Now I’m making food for my church’s cafe. I just stuck two trays of brownies in the oven. I’m going to take them to church and put them in the walk-in cooler, and then I plan to make a couple of deep-dish pies. I wanted to do pie a la mode, but ice cream might be too hard for the cafe to handle.

I thought I was going to make chocolate chip cookies, but the pies are more exciting. May do some pizzas.

I’m also making some experimental faux croissant things from my weird cream cheese dough. I added sugar and yeast and increased the salt. The rolls are rising now. Or they’re not. We will find out soon enough.

I am wondering if my usual brownie-baking temperature of 400 is too high. Sometimes they’re a little brown around the edges. I’m trying 375, in a gross violation of one of my firmest rules: never change a recipe when you’re cooking for a group.

Hope my new chef helpers are there tonight. We will rock that joint to its foundation.