well, i'd love to have a story about a great grandfather's flintlock, or reaing a really cool book as a kid, or the classic grizzled old guy who mentored me when i was just learning how to shave, but (he says with a sheepish look) it was just a lark .. saw my first ML at Cumberland Knife & Gun on Bragg Blvd. one evening and thought, well it would make a cool wall hanger if nothing else, and havig a gun on display in my quarters would really pi$$ off my mother, who was coming to visit, and who thought Sarah Brady hung the moon [insert political polemic here].
So i bought it. Having done that, i felt morally obligated to make lead come out the front- after all, this is a gun and guns are supposed to shoot... so there i am at the private range, with all the stuff i'm supposed to have and everyone else is shooting the manly- man "black" rifles. So i load it up and prime the pan and make sure everything is cool and i look down the barrel and gently squeeze the trigger and
BOOM!!
and i'm thinking "wow- the silly thing actually works!" now, where have i had that feeling before? ... when the parachute opened on my first jump ...
there's a magic about flint which speaks to me as no other gun can. to non- shooters, if you have to ask the question, you probably wouldn't understand the answer.
OK - i'll climb back down from my soap box before i fall down and hurt myself ...