After almost 27 years, Craig's Hlist has found himself immersed in gun culture. It's not so much a masculine phallic thing (believe us, we have questioned it), as much as it is a family bonding experience. It's easier to go to a gun range with our family out in Pearland on a Sunday afternoon than it is to get them out to the Mink or a Vietnamese sandwich shop. We acquired a small handgun through the family a few years back, not really sure what to do with it. We didn't have any ammo for it, so we just sat and looked at it every couple of weeks. We cleaned it, bought a fancy pouch for it, and looked on the Internet to learn about our steel friend. Maybe we posed for some provocative photos with it, too. It's been fun times being a gun owner. It also puts us in league with a marginally reviled segment of the population, all those Yosemite Sam-looking dudes howling about the government, along with the Palin Pals, and hunters and huntresses. And, you know, most violent criminals. We just like things that make loud noises - no more, no less. If dynamite was legal to carry and play with, we probably would be damning the consequences. Fireworks, on the other hand, we equate to pornography. Sweet, sweet brightly-colored pornography you can shoot at your friends and that explodes. Pretty much anything dealing with gunpowder is right up our alley. We shot an M-16 in the USMC, so we are no stranger to the big ones either. On the other hand, we have seen how guns and accidents surrounding them can destroy families. In the wrong hands, they are an extremely bad idea and Craig's Hlist isn't condoning gun violence of any kind. To us it's more of a hobby than some God-given right. Some guys play jazz guitar and dress up their cats like Vikings; we shoot a tiny pistol at a paper target when we get a chance. A few Sundays back on one of our family shootin' trips to Bailey's House of Guns, we were shooting a high-powered antique deer rifle with our mother (yes, the female who we came out of) when after a few shots we got a little too close to the scope while sighting in. The kick of the rifle thrust the scope back and into our general eye area, created a cute lil' gash above the socket, kind of like a boxer would get. In honor of the Good Lord telling Craig's Hlist to be more damn careful, here are five of our favorite gun and ammo-related tunes. You know, we really almost did shoot our eye out. Christmas would have sucked for the rest of our lives, no doubt. Rick James, "Love Gun": This isn't a cover of the KISS song, but we kind of think it trumps the other one. Rick James and guns shouldn't mix. You wouldn't have fed guns to prime cocaine-era James whatsoever. Uncle Tupelo, "Gun": "Cause my heart it was a gun/ But it's unloaded now/ So don't bother me now / Don't bother." Funny enough, we also keep our gun unloaded while storing and transporting it. AC/DC, "Gone Shootin'": We play this in the car on the way over to the range sometimes. A lot of AC/DC and Kiss songs dealt with guns, but mostly that was just slang for penis. Who knows, maybe this whole blog has been about penis too. Think about that! Blondie, "Rifle Range": Craig's Hlist assumes that the rifle range here in this Blondie song refers to a dance club or something where Debbie Harry had her heart broken. That or she actually used to frequent ranges, which makes herself in 1977 a million times hotter. The Beatles, "Happiness Is A Warm Gun": Sick, sickening irony. Rest in peace, J-Yo.
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