I painted my boat

...with less than stellar results.

My first mate cares not of the noble ship's appearance

I'll preface this by explaining what kind of watercraft this is. I call it a boat now, because when I used to call it a kayak, people automatically assumed one of the whitewater varieties that extreme athletes use. I am not an extreme athlete. So I called it a canoe for a little while and everyone pictured a mighty majestic canoe effortlessly gliding through a river's gentle current. It's not even close to that majestic. What I own, is a seven foot, fiberglass cross between a canoe and a kayak. It's wide, like, a little over 3 feet at midpoint. It sits high in the water because of it's width and the entire time I've owned it I've had one wooden paddle that shoots it off sideways with every stroke. It doesn't track true in water terms. So, it's a big unwieldy hunk of fiberglass that vaguely resembles what most people would just call a boat. As such, I just call it a boat now. Someone did once call it a pirouge, and after just now looking that up, it very well may be.

Being made of fiberglass, it really wasn't meant to take on any area that has raspy or pointy things lurking on the shores or just beneath the surface. Which pretty much rules out everywhere I have taken this thing. It's not a bad boat, it's lasted almost fifteen years of abuse and sun. But, it has suffered some pretty gnarly scratches and dings from dragging it in and out of areas that resemble 80-grit sandpaper. In a burst of Bob Villa-esque do-it-yourself attitude, I propped my boat out on the balcony patio of my place and decided, it was time. Time for a fixxer-upper on my haggard vessel.

In my mind, I had a vision of transforming my worn out craft into a sleek water demon, resembling something from a custom shop that anyone would be proud of. I feverishly researched fiberglass patching, refinishing, paints, the works. I was giddy. Fueled by coffee and sunflower seeds, my research stretched into the wee-hours of the morning. This project was going to be epic. Something I had to come to grips with the next morning/afternoon after waking from my DIY euphoria, is epic = expensive.

To clarify, this boat was a gift from my father so it holds a lot more sentimental value than actual value, which, brand new, was about $250. After comparing the costs of the materials to do this project up to the standard I was hoping, it was going to turn this chunk of crusty fiberglass into a rent payment. AKA, not gonna happen. Dejected, I started my research over by inserting the words "cheap", and "budget" before my original queries. While the depression sank in, the boat sat on my make shift work bench and collected dust. Until this past weekend.

On a Friday, I said to hell with it and jumped into this project head on. I had read somewhere on a forum that a "beater" canoe (their words, not mine) could be spruced up with a can of oil based paint. Cheap stuff. Without thinking about it too much I set to sanding with some fine grit and ran to the Orange Depot for some Rustoleum. After consulting with Babs, I selected a gloss black oil based enamel. Boom. I bought the premium roller kit that came with two different rollers to meet the demand. What a bargain too, six bucks for the rollers, eight for the paint! What could go wrong with this?

Taken from as flattering an angle as I could manage

I ran home and cleaned all the sanding dust off with a damp rag and let it dry, which didn't take long as the area had been experiencing consecutive triple-digit days. I poured out some paint, attached the foam "smooth surface" roller, dipped it and got to painting. The first stroke looked beautiful, smooth, glossy, everything I hoped, but the roller hadn't actually rolled, it just sort of squeegeed across the boat. Alright, I guess it's just a little stiff, maybe it'll work itself out. Second stroke, third stroke, damnit this isn't working itself out. The smooth squeegee action was quickly replaced by a skidering, jumpy action. The resulting paint job from that left some interesting texture and stroke lines that, if red, would be pretty reminiscent of the surface of mars. It was too late to turn back, the damage was done, so I kept slopping on paint and smoothing it out with my roller squeegee. It looked pretty bad, but maybe after a sanding and a second coat it'll turn out.

So I let it dry 24-hours. I sanded down the rough and cleaned it up again. I had gone back to the depot and gotten a nice paint brush. Wide, soft bristled, this thing looked like it meant business. I poured out the paint again, grit my teeth and started brushing. The look was even worse. Stroke marks everywhere, and in my haste, I didn't think to tug at the bristles to get rid of the loose hairs and ended up just brushing them into the paint job. Halfway through that horrible brush try, I grabbed my roller and attached a tiny foam roll I just happened to have somewhere in my storage. I went after the already drying, tacky paint and smoothed it best I could and ran down the other side. I think a large part of my problem was the heat outside. I wasn't in direct sunlight, but the temperature on the patio was still in the upper 90's. It really seemed like the heat forced the paint to dry out too quickly in the pan and acquire a sticky property instead.

The damage was done. Accepting defeat on the main paint job, I sulked in my living room debating on what to stencil her sides, in hopes a snazzy image would draw attention away from the crappy paint. I settled on a fish skeleton and went to work making a stencil the next day. The process went okay, I used cardstock paper and cut out the shape with an X-acto knife, taped them in place and rolled on some white. Predictably, it ran everywhere and I had to sacrifice one of Babs' quality paintbrushes for touch-ups with the black.

With all the painting done I moved onto clear coating. Already feeling beaten, I just grabbed a couple cans of the cheapest Krylon clear I found at Wallyworld. A mistake I will not repeat with anything that I don't want people to laugh at me for. The Krylon had been used previously on a small table which was now being used as the work bench, and the finish was acceptable enough that I figured, why not on this project? Probably because instead of a glossy finish, it spit out glossy circles with matte lines connecting them. Yeah, for some reason or another, the gloss only showed up on the spots where I started and ended the spray, with everthing in between looking dull. A clear indicator that someone tried rattle can. Undaunted I kept up the lousy spray job in hopes that the second can would provide salvation, it did not. In fact, the only thing accomplished by the second can was a tacky finish akin to post-it adhesive. But alas, the project was finished.

About the only part of this I'm slightly pleased with.

At the end of the day, I guess it doesn't look that bad. I mean, it looked pretty rough before, now it just looks rough. I know that if I so much as glance at a sandy shore while piloting it, the paint is going to rub away, but I only spent like 25 bucks on it, so I can't expect the durability of a million dollar yacht. I did learn that roller kits are a lot like hot dogs. Even if they are described as premium, the quality is still questionable at best. I also found out that the warning about using oil based enamel in well-ventilated areas is one to be heeded. If you're gonna polish a turd, at least spend some money on proper polish. Oh well, at least I can get back out on the water.

Cream? Sugar? Humiliation?

I like coffee. This is no secret. Over the years I've spent a small fortune on coffee from convenience stores, coffee makers, coffee shops, coffee bistros, diners, wherever you can spend money on coffee, I've done it. My current city of residence has more than it's fair share of places that are willing to enable my addiction. Despite the plethora of indie coffee spots that are available to me, I've been hesitant to take a seat in more than a handful of the establishments for fear of the unavoidable pretentious coffee culture that has a habit of following them. A few days ago, I was privy to just that displeasure.

I wish I knew how to quit you.

Growing up in rural West Texas, my experience with coffee is based on the humble Mr. Coffee that is as much a part of my parents morning ritual as water is to all living organisms. On their excursions for morning breakfast outside of the home kitchen, the coffee came from the commercial maker in whatever divey restaurant they deemed most agreeable. So, when I came of coffee age, 13 or 14, I mirrored their choices. I liked coffee hot, and black. Sugar and creamer were for the same kind of people that wore ties and spent money to get sunburned in a booth or bed. Years later, I dated a girl who worked in a real coffee house and in a way of bucking the regulars, I drank "cowboy" coffee and scoffed at the offer of cream and sugar. I still drink coffee plain, but I do it because I started to enjoy the flavor of the coffee, as opposed to just drinking it out of habit or to look more adult.

Now, I can appreciate some of the subtleties that different kinds of coffee can present, and even though I still pass on the sweeteners myself, I don't judge those who partake. I started to branch out from the 7/11 and cheapest on the shelf type. Granted, there's nothing really wrong with either of those, but there is a difference between them and something designed to deliver hints of cinnamon, or chocolate that costs a bit more. My journey started with the big chain coffee places. For a guy from the middle of nowhere, the 'Bucks was a pretty cosmopolitan experience. Coffee choices beyond regular and decaf? Cold coffee? Sweet coffee confections? Too much, too much. A large regular will do me, brother. Three dollars!?!? Alright. Eh, it's coffee.

When I came to nest in my current residence, I was already pretty deep into the coffee culture. I listened to coffee podcast, I occasionally French press, I own a Keurig, when Babs (her names isn't Barbara, I just started calling her that one day) and  I went camping, a brewing device of some sort was an absolute necessity. But I just couldn't bring myself to walk into one of the myriad of coffee places around me. They all seemed so, trendy. Too trendy, too serious about what they were doing. I know there is a certain amount of professionalism that goes into being a real coffee brewer, but at the end of the day, it is just coffee. It's not a cure for cancer, it's not ending world hunger, it certainly doesn't stop birds from desecrating my car (you'll get yours bird). So don't make it out to be that. When I did finally order a cup from one of these intimidating establishments, my experience wasn't great, but it wasn't terrible. I fumbled my order from the confusing menu, the barista was a little annoyed with me, but we got through it. This gave me the courage to branch out a little. That courage was quickly crushed.

Riding the high from my first excursion, I ventured into a coffee place just across the street from the first one. It took me several weeks, but I eventually got up the nerve to check it out. I've worked a lot of retail in my life, I mean a lot, so I'm used to a certain amount of people being people. This place took that to a new level. Immediately upon entering, I was not greeted with a smile, but rather a scowl as I presented an annoying interruption to the man behind the counter who was actively engaged in a conversation that was a long winded complaint about someone's ordering process involving large quantities of coffee beans. When I was acknowledged by more than dirty looks, the gentlemen gave a exasperated shrug at me, indicating he was ready for me to order. Coffee, for here. A steamy mug was served up with little said and certainly not a smile. Okay, it happens, I had bad days too. It was downhill from there.

The other barista on duty was busying herself conversing with a group seated at the counter. The discussion revolved around regulars and people who aren't. The barista said, I wrote it down because it was so over the top I wanted to be able to quote it, "if you're not a regular, I don't give a shit about you, I'll never see you again." I shit you not, I was there. They all laughed. That's cool, everyone is entitled to their opinion. The hits kept on coming, though. She went on to say that people who use Groupon are awful, commenting that she has not accepted their vouchers before by feigning ignorance on their policy of redeeming them. I tried to ignore it and occupy myself with the newspaper. Her conversation with her group was only broken by those annoying customers piling up at the register periodically. Then, a gentleman came in asking for permission to post on their bulletin board. This is where things got particularly nasty.

Shoe soles are the only souls this group possessed.

This guy looked like he would blend seamlessly into the crowd of skinny jeans and screen printed v-necks, but he made the mistake of bothering the barista who was still busying herself with open complaints to her pals. She approached the counter and listened to his request, informed him of where the board was and he thanked her. On his way out, he stopped to show her his flyer. He handed her one and as soon as he crossed the threshold she spun around and began her ridicule of his flyer, his service, his appearance, and him. Her regulars at the bar ate it up, with one jumping off her stool and running to the window because she had to see him. Mind you, even though these sound like the antics of a cliquey group of high school girls, all these individuals are clearly adult, well into their 30's.

I finished what was in my cup, that liquid couldn't come close to the bitterness these folks served up. Just like that my apprehensiveness to patron such establishments came back. As I walked out, I couldn't help but wonder what they would say about me. Whatever it was, I hope they got it all in because they won't get the opportunity again. The mini-mart across the street or my tiny kitchen might not have the best coffee, but at least it's judgment free.

Netbook to Chromebook

     Several years ago, I received and Acer Aspire One netbook as a gift to take with me on a "trip." The netbook itself wasn't awe inspiring as far as performance or specs go, but it was able to complete the tasks that I asked of it without many hiccups or sputters. Granted I wasn't exactly working on NASA launch codes, but I was working with some spreadsheets and lots of PowerPoint. In my downtime, the netbook was my entertainment center. It was a little tricky to complete the latter until I procured an external CD/DVD drive. Once I plugged that bad boy in though, I felt like I had a legitimate work system.

A starry eyed Aspire One

    Natively the netbook ran Windows XP and was smooth sailing for the first year, maybe two. After that, my netbook turned into a netbrick. The system was just jaggedly, sluggishly hopping along and really not a feasible way to attempt to do any meaningful tasks. I killed everything and re-installed it all in hopes to remedy the problems, and it worked, for a few days and then it seemed like I was back to square one. I've several computers I'm able to use so the little netbook that used to be able had found it's way to the back corner of a closet shelf. I didn't pay it much mind at all until I started poking around for something small to take to school and not be devastated if I dropped it or it was stolen. Enter Chromebooks. Chromebooks are a relatively new addition to the notebook market and kinda sorta, somehow, in my eyes, bridge the gap between a tablet and a laptop. There are true designs that were meant for that and a strong contender for my hard earned cash was the Windows RT. However, having pecked around on the keyboard for that device, it quickly became apparent that there was no way I could keep up with a lecture or type anything efficiently with any kind of accuracy. Some people may be able to knock out novels on that keyboard in record time, but for my clumsy fingers, it just isn't gonna happen. So, I turned to the shiny new Chromebooks that are out there. Some of them are beautiful machines and promise great performance. I read reviews on many of the different models, but being one of the worst kind of shoppers, hesitant AND frugal, I couldn't pull the trigger on one. Samsung has a really nice one out there, but it costs more than my full size windows laptop. Then there is an Acer alternative which is more affordable but not as pretty to look at. So why didn't I buy one outright?
 
     A few months ago I had the privilege of attending a workshop at Google Austin. That entire experience is another post in itself, but I digress. While at Google, a group of us were permitted and encouraged to use the Chromebooks they had placed on tables for us. Wow! I get some real hands on with this piece of equipment! After some very frustrating moments and some really confusing ones that even had the guys at Google scratching their heads, I pretty much accepted that a Chromebook was not a feasible option. The machines we were using were a Samsung variant and the keyboards were outstanding. The issue that I ran into was the OS. Chromebooks run the Chrome OS. It's a bare-bones OS that is designed around having an internet connection at the ready, because you run pretty much everything in the browser. There are some tools that you can take advantage of offline, but for the most part, it's internet centric. Crushed by realizing that neither Google the company nor the Chromebook was something I really enjoyed, I drug myself home and didn't think about a shiny new purchase again.

Big shout out to Hexxeh

  Fast forward to now and I'm actually banging this out on my own Chromebook. Well, sort of. You see, I got to thinking, can I load Chrome OS on my old tired netbook and breathe some new life into it? Turns out you can, again, sort of. Chrome OS is not something you can just download, however, the source code is open so some very intelligent, diligent, basically brilliant people out there have used that to develop working OS's that you can download and use, FOR FREE. I poked around on the internet trying to read reviews and processes and the one that seemed to garner the most positive points was Chromium Vanilla by Hexxeh. He'll prolly never read this but in case he does "Hexxeh, thank you." I followed the steps listed here and was running the OS within an hour. There really isn't much to it and the helpful website basically gives you a step by step and links out to the things you may need to download and explains the process as thoroughly as you need. Once I decided the version of Vanilla I downloaded was a suitable match for my netbook, I followed the steps to go ahead and install it on my hard drive as the only OS. That kills windows and removes it from you system. Some people, actually probably most, won't want to go that route and then that involves some pretty in depth system changes. For me though, this netbook was on it's last legs and the death of Windows on it didn't mean much to me. Worst case scenario, I ruin the hard drive and I'm out something that I had already forgotten I owned.

      So far so good on my netbook/chromium Frankenstein. It is a little buggy, it has it's herky jerky moments and for some reason, the flash player worked, and then mysteriously didn't. I don't know. Thankfully there are a lot of people out there with much more patience and know how that have remedies to some of the more common problems that you run into with such an operation. So flash remedied, it seems like everything else is in it's place. The boot is pretty intermitent. Meaning, almost every other power off/on it wont boot into Chromium and just sits with a blank screen. Inconvenient? Yeah, but like I said, in my particular situation, it's still faster than booting into XP and then waiting a good 5-6 minutes for the system to settle in and being able to open anything. Chromium as an OS is pretty good for people who don't need a computer to do much outside of surf the web and work on very very basic documents. I think it get's a lot of knocks from people who are comparing it to the OS's we all may not necessarily love but know. It isn't designed to compete with that.

    In conclusion, I told you a really long story about something that is kind of silly, but if you are like me and happen to have an old barely functioning netbook lying around (my guess is there are quite a few out there) and it's just collecting dust, give it a try. I mean really, if it is a step away from a garbage bin grave, why the hell not?

This is from the trip the netbook and I took. It survived multiple moves inside my ruck, some pretty severe drops and lots and lots of por...err important projects.

   

First Review: Mossberg 500A

     So here you are. Somehow you've been directed to my reviews by a cruel twist of fate. Odds are you searched a generic term and you ended up here. Well, if you're looking for an honest review on a Mossberg 500A, you're in luck. If you're not, well, there's back buttons, search bars, power buttons, loaded pistols, bridges to be jumped off of, buses to be struck by. Go on. We'll wait...

     Alright, down to business. The Mossberg 500A is a weapon that depending on your income is either

    A) A wonderful piece of equipment at an affordable price

or

               B) An ugly pig of a shotgun not worthy of use by your landscaper

Behold, in all it's glory.

     Odds are if you're reading about a Mossberg firearm of any type you'll fall into the former of the two statements above. I've owned a Mossberg 500A for around 14 years now and even though it's not my only shotgun, it is my most reliable. I'll admit, I view my Mossy the way I view my favorite pair of sneakers. Old, full of holes, stinky, stained, they still get the job done and I love them, but I only wear them when I'm not trying to look cool. I've other shotguns, but my first Mossy holds a special place in my heart.  My dove fat choked heart. In the time I've owned this particular shotgun I've closed many an animal's eyes, from doves and rabbits, to deer and ducks. I actually own three different variations of the same gun, the original 12 gauge woodstock, a synthetic 12 guage I got on a bargain deal that came with an 18" barrel, and a 20 gauge synthetic. All of them came with the most standard barrel length of 28". 

Price Point

     Originally these were the lowest priced pump actions that were widely available. I won't kid you or try to church it up, each one of my Mossbergs were purchased at big box stores. Sure I could have gone to a local outdoors shop and bought them and gotten a warm fuzzy knowing I helped out a local business, but, the premium they were charging for the exact same weapon was a little steep. The mark up isn't worth the general attitude that the local shops supply whenever they realize you aren't going to buy something that costs a couple of paychecks. Although the prices for these shotguns have risen in the last few years they still remain a fairly affordable option for someone looking for a pump-action. They come in at $400 MSRP, so in reality, at the big box stores you can usually find them for about $230-$250. You can find other variants of the original 500A that will take that price point up considerably. Under $300 for a shotgun? Is it any good? 

Value

     This in my opinion is where the Mossy pulls away in terms of value. Sure you can pay more for a weapon that is just as reliable, but it gets into cost and worth. In my opinion, the worth of a 500A against the myriad of other pump actions out there is the same, but the cost is what the difference is. Aesthetics aside that is. The warranty on the current iteration of Mossbergs is 10-years. That a pretty good while. The shotgun I consider the closest competitor is the Remington 870 Express, which cost a but more but carries a 2-year warranty. I don't think that there is much more you can say about value since it can be really relative to the person using it, but again, I think the value of the Mossberg is right up there with the rest of the pumps.

Reliability

     It's a pump action shotgun. They are inherently reliable because of their simplicity. You load it up, point it at what you intend to make non-living, pull the trigger, and pump the action. There are some moving parts inside but not many. You can take apart the entire thing, but it's really unnecessary. For routine maintenance you don't need any tools and if you need to take the barrel off for any reason it unscrews with a few twists. In the time that I've owned my Mossbergs I honestly can't remember any catastrophic failures that took me out of the field. Mind you, I have shot several thousand rounds through these firearms. I remember a handful of times when the ejector arm failed to catch the tail of a shell and either I just cycled it once more or pushed a rod down the barrel to remove it. Even then, I don't think I can fault the gun itself for that, as it seemed to have been more of an issue with the softness of the shells material. Misfires happen, but again, I think that is almost exclusively an ammo issue and any gun would run into similar problems. One time someone asked me, "Can you hit anything with that?" and it was definitely more of a question of the shotgun itself more than my ability. It's a shotgun. With the exception of firing slugs, these things are really point and shoot. Depending on the chokes you use, the choke the barrel is set to, your swing, a bunch of things I'm not going to get into, your ability to hit or miss things is really dependent on you. But yeah, you can hit things with a Mossberg just the same as you can with a firearm costing tons more. The balance of the shotgun is pretty good and it points easily.

Safety in "Kill" position

Features

     Pump shotguns come with a plug that is used to restrict the amount of ammo that can be carried in the weapon for use during certain types of hunting or state restrictions. Some higher end weapons come with a particular type of "plug" that is specific to their weapon. However, Mossbergs come with wooden dowels that have small o-rings attached to them. The o-rings, I have no idea, I lost them years ago and my weapon still works just the same. At first, I thought, "A piece of wood, how cheap" but then I realized, "A piece of wood, that means I don't have to buy a special plug to replace it!" A plus in my opinion. So with the plug, you can hold one in the chamber and two in the belly. Without the plug it will hold five rounds in the ammunition tube plus the one in the barrel. And it just dawned on me why the dowel has the o-ring, so if you pull the barrely off, the dowel wont just slide out. You see, to remove the plug you can go one of two ways. Either, unscrew the barrel and shake the dowel enough til you can pull it out, or you could take the barrel off and then unscrew the ammo tube. You prolly will never need to unscrew the ammo tube but you could if you wanted to. 

     Another feature standard on Mossbergs (but not their Mexican assembled cousins Mavericks) is the location of the safety. It located on top of the receiver, just in front of where the stock joins it. Some people have complained about this claiming it violates aesthetics, but this isn't something hanging in an art gallery, and it actually is pretty well placed once you get used to. A lot of weapons out there have a safety near the trigger that you push one way or the other to engage or disengage. One of the advantages of the top side safety is it's visibility. It's got a big red dot when it's off safe. Slide it back and the dot is covered, thus, you are off safe. Mind blown, right? The second advantage I've found with this safety is that you can easily slide it off with your thumb without having to put your finger near the trigger. It sounds silly but anytime you have to put your finger near the trigger the chances of an accidental discharge go up. 

     The choke system. Depending on the specifics of the model you select, I would advise grabbing the one that comes with the Accu-choke system. The fixed choke barrels usually come choked to modified, a good general purpose pattern. The short barrels (18") as far as I know come choked to improved cylinder. The Accu-choke system allows you to switch between the three most commonly used chokes and comes with them and a choke wrench. The versatility that this provides is a definite plus. Chokes is another subject I won't get too much into but maybe with a little luck we can cover it in another post. 

     The barrels are interchangeable with the same gauge and model. No having to be matched up at the factory or taken to a gunsmith. That pretty standard for pump shotguns, but there are some people who may be hesitant for whatever reason. As I mentioned, one of the Mossys I own came in a combo deal that included a 28" barrel and an 18" barrel. The 28" is great for the field, but my go to home defense is the same shotgun with the 18" barrel attached. Personal decision, but it's a no brainer for most that a shorter barrel will not be near as unwieldy as a longer one inside a house.

Negatives

      Although I'm prolly sounding like a Mossberg fanboy, I do have a few criticisms of the 500A. The first one is easily remedied but it needs to be mentioned. The sights. The front sight of these shotguns is a small bead sight. In itself, not a bad sight, it's white and easy to line up, however, it's really easy to lose. As in, it fell off and I lost it. On one outing a few years into my first ones ownership, the front sight fell off. The base of it was still screwed into the barrel but the white bead portion was nowhere to be found. I stayed in the field with it, but I was still pretty disappointed. The remedy is pretty cheap, theres a ton of aftermarket sight out there that will fit, or come with multiple fittings that will easily screw in and make your gun like new or upgraded. I changed mine out iwth a tru-glo universal front sight that works just fine for under 10 bucks. 

     Another thing is the pump action itself. I mean don't get me wrong, it works fine, but it isn't as smooth as some of it's competitors. Without staying on top of lubrication your slide action could start to get pretty rough. Out of the box it's a little stiff but works itself smoothER but not quite buttery. 

     Even though I said aesthetics wasn't important, it has to be mentioned. This model won't win any beauty pageants. It's not ugly, but its not pretty. It's hard to explain. The laminate wood model tries it's best but it just isn't gonna make Playboy anytime soon. The synthetic models aren't lookers either, but I think when you go synthetic you just looking for a workhorse anyways. I will say though, both the laminate and the synthetic are durable. I'm sure someone will come out and say, "Well I dropped my once from .06 inches up and it shattered into a thousand pieces. Hey, that happens, but in my years of abUSE I've given mine, they have survived drops on rocks, dirt, asphalt, truck beds and to a lesser degree rugs, carpets, and a dog.

    Other than those knocks, I dont think there is much else to say about the 500A. 

     So, if you're on a budget but want/need/wife allowed to buy a reliable pump, the Mossberg 500A is sound decision. You might be embarrassed to use it around your friends, but with some practice you'll be out-shooting them anyways, and nothing shuts someone up like reminding them the bird they're eating is courtesy of your ugly duckling.  ~A.

  The Mossberg 500A hard at work. Nephew on the right carrying an HR
 single shot, and the shadow is my old man armed with a cheap camera.