Bruthr...

Two days ago my 19-year-old brother Mark and his friend Dane LaBue came from Indiana to visit for my dad's birthday. On Saturday we went to Shooters of Columbus (gun shop and indoor range) and shot for a while at the range. We had brought with us my dad's Ruger New Model Single Six .22 caliber revolver; also, we were able to rent a Glock 17 9mm. The targets were hilarious-you could choose between several different posters of "threatening people" that actually looked pretty pitiful. Every once in a while, some insane person down the range would go trigger-happy with some powerful semi-automatic, resulting in a fast series of loud booms and wind-like air disturbances. The 9mm had more kick than the .22, of course, but it felt pretty cool to have more power in your hands than just a weak little plinker. The shop had some nice stuff. SKS's, Gewhers, and other wartime/standard issue guns (that were nastified in oil from being in storage so long) from various countries like Yugoslavia, Germany, Russia, and England were arranged in racks next to signs that read "unissued." On top of a glass case of more guns lay a beautiful, engraved commemorative case, opened, with an M1 Garand in it. I also spotted a genuine Red Ryder BB gun. They even had a "Robin Hood Hall of Fame" on one wall displaying incidents when one arrow pierced through a previously shot one. On Sunday, Mark and Dane went to church with us and met some of the people there. Afterwards, we went to Buffet City (which almost does seem like a city because of its size and amount of people). Shortly thereafter, Mark and Dane had to leave.