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  You dummy. That's not agenda. That's vagina. :D

For those of you not familiar with a Protech TR4,  these knifes are awesome they have a safety and a glass breaker built in, here is a short video of my Punisher model   https://youtu.be/L01suAPvvHs

And it all started over the last brick of 22 left on the shelf

I will make sure to find me a knife fighting class before I use one for self defense. Matter of fact I don't think I have enough gun training to carry. After all being in the military, being in law enforcement as well as carrying a firearm for work in hostile environments probably isn't enough for your requirements. Personally the ONLY people who should not be allowed are those who have a proven VIOLENT history. I don't care if someone is a felon or bat#### crazy as long as they are not violent they should be able to use any means necessary, including fully automatic grenade launching machine guns, to protect themselves even if they do not have a single second of training. You, my friend, are the worst kind of gun owner. One that wants to limits other gun owners for their own reasons.

Senior citizens are constantly being criticized for every conceivable deficiency of the modern world, real or imaginary. We know we take responsibility for all we have done and do not blame others. But, upon reflection, we would like to point out that it was not the senior citizens who took   The melody out of music, The pride out of appearance, The romance out of love, The commitment out of marriage, The responsibility out of parenthood, The togetherness out of the family, The learning out of education, The service out of patriotism, The religion out of school, The Golden Rule from rulers, The nativity scene out of cities, The civility out of behavior, The refinement out of language, The dedication out of employment, The prudence out of spending, or The ambition out of achievement, And we certainly are not the ones who eliminated patience and tolerance from personal relationships and interactions with others! Does anyone under the age of 50 know the lyrics to the Star Spangled Banner? Just look at those Seniors with tears in their eyes and pride in their hearts as they stand at attention with their hand over their hearts! And, unless many of our younger generation learn to count in the absence of computers and calculators, they will be back to counting on fingers and toes. Remember.......Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what in the world happened.

THE STORY OF MY GUN………….. * Today I swung my front door wide open and placed my Remington 30.06  right in the doorway.  I left 6 cartridges beside it, then left it alone  and went about my business.   While I was gone, the mailman delivered my  mail, the neighbor boy across the street mowed the yard, a girl walked  her dog down the street, and quite a few cars stopped at the stop sign  near the front of my house. After about an hour, I checked on the gun.  It was still sitting there,  right where I had left it.  It hadn't moved itself outside.  It  certainly hadn't killed anyone, even with the numerous opportunities it  had presented to do so. In fact, it hadn't even loaded itself. Well you can imagine my surprise, with all the hype by the Left and the  Media about how dangerous guns are and how they kill people.  Either the  media is wrong or I'm in possession of the laziest gun in the world. The United States is 3rd in Murders throughout the World.  But if you  take out just 4 cities: Chicago, Detroit, Washington DC and New Orleans,  the United States is 4th from the bottom, in the entire world, for Murders. These 4 Cities also have the toughest Gun Control Laws in the U.S.  ALL  4 of these cities are controlled by Democrats.  It would be absurd to  draw any conclusions from this data -right? Well, I'm off to check on my spoons.  I hear they're making people fat.

Um, ya, sure.

Yep, almost as fast as Chuck Yeager......but without the gentlemanly class.

It's actually really informative. Not just a safety/rules rehash, but a full on basic lesson in ballistics. I learnt a heck of a lot!

  Goodbye.

If the state really wanted to make some money, they'd institute a "lifetime TICS fee". They'd make money and some of y'all would be in the black in a couple of weeks.

Is it just me or did you hear this when he started running?       https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3IrWhjzAVOo

Just to stir the pot...   Who would it be that DIDN'T pass these things on to their children, and their children's children?   Not trying to stand on a soapbox or anything, just trying to off a view without blinders on.   If a child is raised wrong, is it the school's fault, or the parent's? Each generation laments about the loss of respect and decency in the world, yet at the end of the day, it is ourselves who are to blame. It is our generation that failed to properly prepare the generation we begat. Not the school, not the government, not the television, us, the parents.   Myself? I know that my daughter isn't being raised the way I was. My senior citizen parent was a junkie who was self obsessed. My daughter is being raised by two loving parents that are concerned with her well being and future.             Just some thoughts to mull over there. ;)

(Explanation: I have a little bit of history in my background, having been a child of the Great Okie Migrations to California in the 1930's and 40's. Not too long ago I was encouraged by my family to write it down so the younger kids would someday learn what their grandparents had gone through to escape the horrible poverty of the plains states back then and provide them with a decent life. So I did, and even though it isn't the usual Gun Forum fodder, I thought it deserved better than to be bottled up forever in my Word file. Y'all are a gracious and patient bunch, so I thought you might like to take a look at it. I hope I didn't wear out my welcome posting it here at TGO and I hope you find it interesting. It was a unique bit of contemporary American history that may just be repeated in reverse if the water situation in California gets any worse.) Life during the first 50 years of the 20th century in Oklahoma was miserably hard.For the common Oklahoman the only work available was brutally difficult subsistence farming of worn out, rented land which they could never hope to own. Farm machinery consisted of horse and mule-drawn plows, and fertilization of crops was expensive to the point of being out of the question. Water was drawn from wells by rope and bucket, which made watering family gardens very hard and irrigation of crops impossible. Pest control meant that the children in the family walked up and down the rows of stunted cotton, picking the boll weevils off of the plants and throwing them into a bucket. The bucket was then dumped into a fire at the end of the row and the walking and picking began all over again. The cotton that survived was picked by hand for starvation wages. The men of the family took bucksaws, axes, and horse-drawn wagons to the river bottoms and cut their year’s supply of fire wood and cook wood every year, a process that entailed at least two weeks of almost cruel, sweltering labor. The winters were brutally cold, the summers brutally hot and humid, and tornados were an ever present danger during the working seasons. The old prairie houses were cold, drafty, leaky, and most had neither electricity nor insulation. When a family went to bed with a roaring fire in the potbellied wood stove in the middle of the house, winter temperatures on the plains greeted them in the morning with a sheet of ice on all of the water and milk in the house. The common Oklahoman’s poetic description of the state’s winter weather was that It was “clear as a bell, cold as hell, and damnedest frost that ever fell.” Until the late 1930’s and even into the 1940’s lighting was provided by candles and kerosene lanterns. Refrigeration was by blocks of ice if one lived in town, but nonexistent otherwise. Owning an automobile was reasonably common, but owning one that wasn’t a falling-down jalopy being held together with bailing wire and prayer was not. Education was badly frustrated by the constant need these families had for their children’s labor on their farms. A tremendous number of young Oklahomans of that era made do without a high school education, and many even found it difficult to progress beyond the eighth grade. While life on the farm was tough on everyone, my mother’s family had it worse than most. Mom never owned more than one outer garment at a time in her life until she married my dad at the age of eighteen. Her school dress was also her work dress and church dress. When it needed washing, it was washed on a scrub board in a tub of water with homemade lye soap. She had to wear a pair of her brother’s bib overalls until it dried. Sewing machines came very hard for Oklahoma farm families of that era, so her mother made even the family’s undergarments with a pair of scissors and a needle and thread. The material of choice, of course, was the ever-present flour sack. As if all of this wasn’t bad enough, the Great Depression made it even worse. Simple poverty was overtaken by desperation and a real question about whether one could survive at all. My dad once told me that in 1932 his family’s farm produced 52 bales of cotton, which only brought a gross profit of a nickel a pound. By the time the rent on the land was subtracted, and the gin fees, hired help, grocery and seed bills were paid, there was only enough money left to buy each of the five children in the family a new pair of shoes or a new coat, but not both. These were the days when blackbirds, opossums, ground hogs, and all sorts of small animals suddenly became quite edible, even desirable, and corn meal mush was akin to a grand feast. When a laying hen stopped being a laying hen, it quickly became a stewing hen. Often the Okies’ beloved milk gravy could only stay on the table by becoming water gravy, and then only if one could afford the flour or meal needed to make it. The most desperate times came to the Dust Bowl country, where for a time families were known to have subsisted on lard and bread alone. The Great Depression found its way into my family in 1938. After more than thirty years of incredibly difficult farming, the family had no choice but to “go bust” and “move to town.” Old, worn out farm implements can only be repaired so many times, and theirs were long overdue for the scrap heap. Having swallowed their pride and sold everything they owned, they worked at anything and everything they could find to hold body and soul together for the next four years. This pattern was repeated thousands of times in prewar Oklahoma and the other plains states, and set the stage for what I call the “Second Great Okie Migration.” But before we go there, let’s back up a few years to the “First Great Okie Migration.” During the 1930’s, almost 200,000 Oklahomans and other plains folks fled the region’s poverty and its Dust bowl for the farm fields of California. This was the great Okie migration that formed the basis for John Steinbeck’s award winning novel “The Grapes of Wrath.” But not everyone left quite yet. Many realized that, despite their dire straits, the farm fields of the West only offered an improvement in fortunes to those who had lost everything and had nothing left to lose. Decent housing was impossible to find, much less afford. The labor was just as hard, and the wages just as low. For those outside the Dust Bowl who still had a roof over their heads and food in the house, the move didn’t seem to be all that worthwhile. But events in Europe and the Far East would soon change that. The famous and desolate U.S Highway 66, scene of the great Okie migrations of the 1930,s and 1940's. The“Second Great Okie Migration” began with the nation’s mobilization for World War II in 1940. War industries with good paying jobs sprang up all up over the west coast, and destitute Midwestern farm families flocked to them by the thousands.They got there any way they could – Greyhound busses, sputtering old cars, and even by the outstretched thumb alongside the highways and byways. Enterprising men with decent automobiles were issued extra gasoline ration stamps and allowed to hire out and drive workers from the Midwest to the west coast war plants. Henry J. Kaiser even sent passenger trains to the major population centers of Texas in order to take people to California to work in his San Francisco ship yards. Not surprisingly, the population of California increased by a whopping 56% during World War II. 1939 Ford pickup By the middle of 1942 things had indeed changed. Even the Oklahoma holdouts understood the promise of a better life that was now being offered by the west coast war industries. Among them were my parents. One night at a dance in Wapanucka, Oklahoma they encountered a man who was operating a ferry service to California with his pickup truck. They signed up then and there. I had to chuckle when my Dad told me of this meeting years later. He said: “Y’know son, I had a good bankroll all saved up, but when that ol’ boy said he wanted twenty five dollars apiece to bring me and your mother to California, it like’ta broke me!” 1941 Chevy pickup And so off they went. The “ol’ boy” had a fairly new pickup to which he had added bows over the bed and then covered them with a tarp in the fashion of the Conestoga wagons of old. He had bolted two easy chairs in the small bed for the ladies. His cargo capacity was two couples, each with a suitcase or two, which the (pregnant) wives had to climb over for the entire trip. The pickups of that era weren’t much larger than a modern day Dodge Dakota, which made for a very cramped cab when all three men climbed in. Worse, the old pickups had a floor shift, which one of the unlucky men had to straddle. The wartime speed limit throughout the country was 35 miles per hour. Gasoline cost twelve cents a gallon. The trip was 1,700 miles on U.S. Highway 66 across the western desert of the United States in the middle of summer. It took five days and five nights of miserably hot nonstop driving to make it to Santa Paula, California. This '41 Chevy bed is typical of the tiny bed into which two pregnant women and the entre luggage load had to fit. They arrived in mid-June, 1942 with just enough money to live for a week, but quickly found jobs paying better wages than they had ever imagined. Starting wages for common labor in the Southern California war industries was $1.00 per hour, four times the Oklahoma labor rate of 25 cents per hour. My folks thought they had died and gone to Heaven. After hearing the good news their hard pressed Oklahoma relatives wasted no time in moving west, almost en masse. Very few of them ever looked back. My parents wading in the surf of Ventura, California on July 19, 1942, less than a month after their arrival. From that point forward the “Second Great Okie Migration” knew no bounds. It literally spread into a nationwide migration to the Golden State that ultimately resulted in the state’s population exceeding thirty million people by the 21st century. And it all began with old, smoky, backfiring convoys of down n’ out Okie refugees looking for honest work. They memorialized their plight with a light hearted 1947 hit song that offended a lot of folks, but told it like it was. It was entitled “Dear Okie” and went like this: “Dear Okie, if you see Arkie Tell ‘im Tex got a job for him out in Californy Pickin’ up prunes, squeezing oil out of olives” “Dear Okie, if you see Arkie Tell ‘im Tex got a job for him out in Californy Rakin’ up gold, playing fiddle in the Follies” “Now, he’ll be lucky if he finds a place to live But there’s orange juice fountains flowing for those kids of his” “So, Dear Okie, if you see Arkie Tell ‘im Tex got a job for him out in Californy Diggin’ oil wells, all he needs is a shovel”…………………………. Having read this brief story, I trust that the reader will forgive me for becoming irate when I hear inner city demonstrators shouting for the government to “send us jobs!” I’m sure you can imagine why I feel that way. You can also understand why I call myself an Okiefornian. I was born in California five months after my 18 year old mother stepped out of the bed of the “Conestoga” pickup truck from Wapanucka, Oklahoma. Epilogue My mother lived from 1923 until 1996. After spending the war years working at the Port Hueneme Navy Base, she spent most of the rest of her life in Ventura, California. There she raised three children and worked for 21 years as a saleslady at the East Main Street Sears store. Her favorite comment about Oklahoma was “I didn’t lose anything back there I’m in a big hurry to go back and find.” Even so, she faithfully drove "back home" over 30 times to see her parents. I’m quite sure she made at least 20 of those 1,700 mile trips before discovering what a motel was. My dad lived from 1910 until 1990. He too spent the war years working at the Port Hueneme Navy Base. After the war he spent his career as a Senior Inspector for County Agriculture Departments. He was very fond of saying that California had been wonderful to him, but Oklahoma had tried to work him to death. He often lamented that “You couldn’t get a cool breeze back there to save your life.” By the time he retired, his position had been reclassified from Senior Inspector to Agricultural Biologist, and required a Bachelor’s Degree in Biology. He took quiet pride in training young Agricultural Biologists to replace him when he neared retirement – little did they know their mentor only had an eighth grade education. ADDENDUM: Please don’t waste your time looking for a “Second Great Okie Migration” in the history books. The name is just my take on a particular period of American life that meant so much to my family. I am immensely proud to have been raised by people of such character and resilience. It has been a rare privilege to tell just a small part of their story. As the Okies say: “They done good.” Wapanucka, Oklahoma still exists today, but barely. The population of this tiny southeastern Oklahoma town was roughly 2,000 people in 1942 but has slipped to no more than 400 by current estimates. A cousin and I visited there in 1981 and again in 2006 and found that the buildings on its main street were abandoned and on the verge of collapse. Only a two room motel and a convenience store remained. We found much of the population to be living in dilapidated mobilhomes and old, tattered houses scattered around the area. Ventura, California, on the other hand has done exactly the opposite. Its population in 1942 was only 12,000 people. But its location on a prime piece of Southern California’s coast along with being within 50 miles of Los Angeles has drastically increased its population over the years. Current population figures put it at 106,400, an increase of 6,400 people since the 2000 census alone. It is an incredibly vibrant, lovely city. Santa Paula, California is a quaint city of some 30,091 people nestled in the coastal foothills of the Santa Clara Valley and is known as the "Citrus Capital of the World." It is nine miles inland from Ventura. My parents arrived there in June of 1942 when it had fewer than 5,000 people. They lived out the war years in Santa Paula. “Port Hueneme” is correctly pronounced “Port Wy-nee-mee.” – with the accent on the middle syllable. It is from the California Chumash Indian dialect. The Navy Base there is more formally known as USNCBC Port Hueneme, or U.S. Navy Construction Battalion Center Port Hueneme. It is the home of the Navy’s famous Seabees. If anyone would like to hear a great rendition of “Dear Okie,” my favorite is this recording by Hank Thompson, done in 1968. It adds real flavor to the story. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IRfctSGwPko Well, that's about it. The original Okie migrants are all gone now and all that remains is for their kids to tell their stories while they still can. I hope I've done them justice. After all, they were a very unique part of "The Greatest Generation." Thanks for listening. EssOne

My wife and I went on a trip to Savannah Georgia this week. We were looking at a World War Two monument there when a little girl and her mother walked up. The little girl looked up and read curiously...."World War Eleven." :ugh: What really bothered me is that her mother heard this and never corrected here. I don't suspect she knew any better either. This country is in trouble folks.

Yup, I'm in for sure. I'd like a two-tone blade and #19 to match my Runt 4.

The numbers actually went down over that period because I stopped eating shellfish.  Its easy to prove… I stopped eating them, and the numbers went down.

Wanted to give my feedback and observations...sorry for the delay, been from Kingsport to Memphis and back again this week. All students were repeat clients having trained with Randy privately or through SI. 3 of the 5 students were health care providers. Cheap ammo adds to the training experience. I had aluminum based shells, the first 50 with no issues, the next 25 were hanging up as the gun got hot. I did learn how to mortar a shotgun to clear it. The odd thing is last class I used Fed alum with no problems, this was Win. With a pump shotgun, actuating your trigger finger should cause an uncontrollable urge to work the slide. Federal's 12ga Tactical low recoil both flite and non flite control patterned amazingly from my 870 Tactical. The flite control was slightly tighter at 15 yards than the OTC Remington Express 12ga OO at 4 yards. Chopping down the stock for better fit and adding a limb saver recoil pad was a huge improvement over last time I trained with it. I missed out on transition to pistol / pistol work and furthering my skills on proactive reloads, but I was napping in the shade. As Randy mentioned it got hot. I felt I had adequately pre hydrated and stayed hydrated; ended up with a blistering headache and nausea. I was drinking only water and at one point Andrew offered a drink with some electrolytes which I declined - perhaps the culprit? Got home took a shower, are dinner, felt fine... There is no doubt that students do get immersed in the training...where else are you going to see a guy throw what looks like his new Benelli M4 on the deck during a transition drill? Thank you to everyone for participating amd Prag for facilitating and hustling on the range. oh, it was Sunday, so we got to pray...pretty cool since He said something about 3 or more gathering in His name... Jesus, Please make us an instrument of your peace; Where there is hatred, let us sow love; Where there is injury, pardon; Where there is doubt, faith; Where there is despair, hope; Where there is darkness, light And where there is sadness, joy! Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; To be understood as to understand; To be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; In pardoning that we are pardoned and in dying that we are born to eternal life!

From reading some other threads on here, I expected it to be the Memphis or Nashville zoo....                 :hiding:

I am in the process of moving (back) to Nashville and will try to make it. It will be the first time the guns have been out of the safe in a long time. Sent from my SPH-L710 using Tapatalk

 not typical… tactical… just like CC vs OC, don't let them know until you can pounce!

Hose the action down with WD-40. Make sure to really soak the inside of the action with it. Let it set for 10-15 minutes then use high pressure air, from a compressor and not one of those cans, and blow out the receiver. Repeat 2-3 times.   Most guns that quit working do so because of crud, dirt or debris inside the working parts. The best, and easiest, way to clean most guns is with WD-40.   WD-40 is not a lubricant. It is more like a mild solvent and helps break down dried out oils and greases in most older and neglected guns.

I could be wrong, but I don't see that ever happening. They already brought the gun out as the same size as the P30L. I foresee them putting out a VP9SK before anything else in the 9mm lineup. Especially with how well the new P30SK is selling. Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

I think I may have agenda. I get tired and out of breath sometimes and my chest hurts when I overexert myself.

I've had guests from all over the US and Europe visit this range,everyone pretty much says the same thing: most incredible, nicest range they've ever been to in their life.

How come I never get to see the good stuff like this when I go to Walmart? Lol

RIP American Dream!!

It is one of "those" handguns that I believe everyone should have. Everyone should have a 1911, a 4" .357 revolver, a CZ, a Glock...   The CZ platform is one of the greatest of all time. Congrats.

I saw this the other day. Sad state of affairs our country is in when you have people afraid to intervene in something for fear of lawsuits.    And that mother needs to lose her kid.

You know, until now, I always assumed a cat fight would be something arousing to watch.    I was wrong.

One more word outa you and I'm gonna get off the fat lady scooter and whip your ass  :rofl:

sad shes carrying on like that in front of her child...

White trash at its finest! That little kid will be in the juvenile system before long.

Wake me up when they offer a VP45.  This was necessary for them to pursue the striker-fired police service pistol market, but the .40SW is just not a cartridge I care about anymore.  Everything I carry now is either 9mm or .45ACP

I find open carry kind of humorous.  Most guys and it is mostly guys, who I see open carry look to me like they should also be carrying a sign that says, "Shoot me first, then take my gun."  I might be rudely mistaken but most open carry guys I run across appear to be posers.  

  You're really quite the charmer ... so glad to have you aboard.   - OS

  Just make sure the sharp side goes to the meat. You been schooled :)

  Most states have open carry (and several now with concealed carry) without a permit… several states that require a permit also require no training to get the permit.  The blood and lawsuits aren't flowing.   The biggest problem in TN is that a "No Gun" sign should NOT have force of law… its ridiculous.  Its like having a "no food/drinks" sign up and someone getting arrested for having a candy bar in their pocket.  If someone wants to kick someone out for having a gun or a candy bar or whatever… then let them kick them out, not some blanket sign that has force of law.

    Mine wasn't.  We did it in the instructors home and his wife made fresh cookies and lemonade.  It was awesome!

Never liked pipe cleaners, but I always use 6" medical swabs too. The head is smaller and is glued to the stick. No problem!

I just wrote "World War II" on a piece of paper and asked my 8 year old grandson to read it.     He said world war two.

I'm gonna watch it but I'm afraid it's going to be drama filled instead of quality craftsmanship. I don't see making a knife/sword as a half hour deal but I guess we will see.

Well you'll talked me in to it, 44 mag here we come!

  .45 colt is larger diameter bullet than .410 bore.   Handguns like Judge and Governor have .45 bore, not .410, and chamber is modified to accept both, not even sure .45LC will fit in regular .410?, but if it does, don't fire it.   Even if it were safe, which it's not, the bullet would come out of it like a knuckle ball, yaw and/or tumble all over the place.   - OS   edit: Garufa beat me tuit.

I think the coop is very secure. Chicken wire on top and hardware cloth on sides all secured with heavy staples. We also have 5' farm fence around the yard. Between that and the dog hoard I'm hoping to keep all the critters away. I will be watching for snakes but we do that anyway because of the copperheads around here.

You gotta change that train of thought there!! Go buy another one and tell her it's just like yours, but special, for her. I bought my husband a Glock 29 for his birthday. Without shooting it, I knew I liked it was to much. Two weeks later I got one for myself, to not take his. Because I would have wanted to. It's hard to trick women, but if done right, I bet you can make it look like a special present, you know, because you love her!

  I wouldn't rule out CC any gun by a women have you seen the size of some of the purses some women carry.  I bet you could get an AR15 in some women's purses and no one would notice :).

Man that's great and disappointing at the same time!  :up:  :down:

I hear a lot of "nobody notices open carry", "you could carry a howitzer and most wouldn't notice", etc. I think most of those folks are actually "almost" carrying concealed, with service size heater or smaller tight to side with at least a shirt covering half of it or more.   Carrying a gat completely open with tucked in shirt and no jacket or whatever is going to be noticed, simple as that. I know because I've done it, and have gotten that attention. By what overall percentage depending on size of the thing and whatnot is debatable, but doesn't matter to me if it's only 1 in 20, I simply don't want the attention.   I also hear the "it's so much more comfortable" and "most expedient way to deploy" claims, and there's a lot of truth in that -- however, whether you mean it as such or not, a completely exposed roscoe is also an attention getting statement. And gawd knows based on the appearance of some folks I see doing it, not one that conveys a positive image to the average John Q in any way, either. (I'll include myself in that category at times, btw).   All that being said, of course I support your right to do it. But I'll stay in gray man mode myself, for a variety of reasons.   - OS

I've heard several times that it's not smart to mess with an old man. When they're too old to fight and too slow to run, their only option is to kill you.