Month: January 2026

Unexpected Pleasure

Friends and Family

If blogging seems a trifle light today, it’s because most of yesterday was spent in the company of Longtime Reader UncleKenny — during which we had a fine session at my local range, followed by coffee and a long chat.

I should point out that most of the chatting was done by me, because as I seldom nowadays have any social contact with friends, I tend to jabber on endlessly when I do.  He didn’t fall asleep during said chat, and on occasion even prompted me to continue, which says much about his scholarliness and gentlemanliness.

I have without doubt the best damn Readers on the Internet.  Thanks, Ken, and it was a rare and special privilege to meet you in person.

Afterthought:  I should point out that nobody’s perfect:  he did bring a Glock to the range after all, but at least it was chambered for the manly .45 ACP and not the other rubbish.  And anyway, such lapses in taste can always be forgiven among friends.

Serial Time

Writing

…and I’m not talking about Cheerios, either.

Starting tomorrow, I’ll be posting a chapter from my musical memoirs and thereafter a new chapter each Saturday till I’m done.  The period to be covered is from 1965 until 1986.

The story behind this outpouring of self-indulgence is that I recently reconnected with an old buddy from my pro music days, and he shared his (written) memoirs of the times gone by.  While our lives only overlapped on occasion, we became good, if somewhat remote friends — he now lives in Western Oz, poor man — cemented by a shared sense of humor that could best be described as “blacker than Minneapolis at midnight”.  And I think it was he who described our situation as “we played in different bands together, for over five years”.

FAQ – BBQ Gun

The Gun Thing

For the benefit of my Furrin Readers (Euroland, Oz, Britishland, California, etc.), I probably need to explain the meaning of the term “BBQ Gun” or “Governor’s BBQ Gun”.

This would be the handgun you’d wear to a formal barbecue event.  It should be a little more “showy” than your EDC (everyday carry) piece, and one you’d not be ashamed of wearing in polite company.  (By the way, this stipulation would automatically exclude such filth as Glock and Hi-Point pistols, but not old, well-worn pieces like your grandfather’s Colt Peacemaker.)

Your holster too would be a showpiece, not an IWB (inside the waistband) type.  Depending on the state, it could be unadorned or else festooned with things like silver buckles, turquoise stones and fringes.

Anyway, the question I’m frequently asked is:

“So what’s your Governor’s BBQ Gun, Kim?”

It’s not a pistol, but a revolver:  my beloved Ruger New Model Blackhawk (.30 Carbine)

I have a holster for it, but it’s kinda plain:

….so I’m idly looking around for something a little dressier:

Okay, maybe not that last one.

It might be that I have to sniff among the options at an Evil Loophole Gun Show, soon.

– Note that in the states outside America such as California, Illinois and New York, there’s no such thing as BBQ gun because those governors tend to hate and fear guns (unless carried by their bodyguards, of course).

Maybe Not

Men & Women

Them times sure are a-changing… just not quite how Dylan envisaged it:

Tabitha Willett has sparked debate as she criticized ‘commuting men on their phones’ for not offering her a train seat – despite wearing a ‘baby on board’ badge. 

The Made In Chelsea star, 33, who is expecting her second child, took to Instagram on Tuesday to tell London commuters to ‘do better’. 

Sharing a short video of a busy train showing a number of people sitting and standing on their phones, Tabitha penned: ‘I don’t want to be a moan but… 

‘On the way back from the school run and a carriage full of men on their phones and no one stood up for a pregnant woman with a badge or elderly couple next to me. 

‘Do better London’.

Not gonna happen.

I mean, I myself will always stand up to offer my seat to a woman, pregnant or not.  But I’m not a younger man who’s had the shit kicked out of me since childhood by the public school system, by the media and by women in general for my toxic masculinity and frequent screams of “we can do anything that men can do”.

Well then, young men might say, you can bloody well stand on the train when there aren’t any open seats, just like men do.

And let’s be honest:  that passive-aggressive button (“Baby On Board”?  give me strength) isn’t going to help matters.

Back in the day, of course, such boorish and selfish behavior from younger men would have sparked a response from other men in the railway carriage, said miscreants being hoisted out of their seat by the collar, with maybe a few solid cuffs to the head thrown in.

Now?  No chance, chickie.

And you can think your ultra-feministicals for that, because men have a simple response for when the rules of the game are changed to their detriment:  they just stop playing.

Manners and courtesy, you see, have always been an indulgence and not a duty.  And the days of indulgence are over.

Like I said:  I’m not going to change;  the habits and manners of a lifetime are too ingrained in me for that simple rejection.  But when young men have never been taught those simple manners, those lubricants of polite society, and even been chided that said manners are arrogant and prime examples of The Patriarchy / Toxic Masculinity…

Well, they’re just going to stay in their seats.  As they should.