The War on Women?

N.O.W.’s  annual conference theme for 2012 is “Stop the War on Women”. Did I miss something here? Has someone or something declared war against me?

I believe the real enemy of women is N.O.W. Those women really need to get over themselves.  They cry about special rights for women, but why should women get SPECIAL rights?  Wasn’t it supposed to be “Equal Rights'”?  (And while I’m ranting, what’s up with Diet Coke and women’s heart health?  Are women’s hearts more important than men’s?  What about men’s heart health?) 

I am a woman and when a Gentleman opens a door for me I smile, say thank you, and send up a silent prayer for God to bless that kind soul. So if you are a Gentleman, don’t ever change.  You are greatly appreciated!  Men and women are supposed to be different.  God made us that way on purpose.  That is how we compliment each other in our relationship. Different strengths and different weaknesses. I don’t need N.O.W. to tell me I am important.  All I have to do is look into my husbands eyes or the faces of my children and grandchildren.

Feminist is the new “F” word in my opinion. I think we need to start a new organization like “Women against N.O.W.” or  “Real Women of America”.

Has someone done that? How do I join?

Red

Ladies Basic Pistol Class

I promised to tell you about my class experience, so grab a cup.

The class was advertised as a class for ladies that had little or no experience with guns and may be uncomfortable around firearms.  The class was free, the waiting period was 6 months to get in.   It was at a Rifle Club taught by NRA instructors.

You may recall I purchased my first gun, a shotgun, last summer.  It took me a long time to muster the courage to buy it.  I hemmed and hawed for a long time.  I knew it had to be done, but I was scared.  As a kid I was around guns every summer.  My Grandfather taught all of us how to shoot.  It never bothered me.  It was just a part of life like learning to drive the jeep.  No big deal.

Well, somewhere along the way my subconscious must have bought into all the liberal blather about guns because I became afraid of them.  When Tim and I married I didn’t want any guns in the house.  Poor Tim, he was raised on guns and loved to hunt.  It wasn’t until after Obama was elected, and the whole world seemed to be going to hell in a hand basket, that I began to feel the need for self defense.  The need grew stronger and stronger until I finally told Tim I was ready for a shotgun.  I no sooner finished the sentence than we were at the Gun store!  He must have been sure I would change my mind (again).  So, off we went with the neighbors to do some target practice and learn how to use my new gun.  Even the neighbors were amazed I actually bought a gun. (Everyone we know are hunters).  Anyway, after spending an hour or two in the hills target practicing, we came home, cleaned the gun and put it away.  That is where it has stayed because I cannot find a range that will let me shoot a shotgun.  I have to go back out in the woods if I want to practice.  Anyway, I’m getting off course here, sorry.

After I bought the shotgun I still had a nagging feeling that I needed a pistol.  Something small enough for me to handle quickly in an extreme case.  Again I pushed it to the back of my mind.  When I saw the class that was offered I thought it would be the perfect way  to find the right gun for me, so I signed up.

Going into the class I was a bit nervous.  The instructor was great and in no time at all I was having a blast.  We were told we would not be actually shooting until the 3rd and 4th classes.  That night I came home and couldn’t wait to tell Tim everything I learned.  I even went to work the next day and told all the guys. (I work in an office with 4 men that carry.  I always feel safe at work!)

When the second class came around I was getting ready to fly to my folks house in California, but I worked all the packing, etc. around going to the class.  I was pretty excited about finally finding a gun for me.  That class turned into a big FAIL.  Sadly, it was one crazy thing after another.  We were informed that “tonight” we would be firing pistols in the indoor range.  I got nervous, but was still excited at this point.  Then we were told that after shooting we would have gun powder on our clothes and we would have to go home and wash everything we were wearing. Now I’m thinking frantically about the TSA and flying to California, and having to stay up all night doing laundry.  This did not make me happy.  With a little advanced notice this would not have been an issue.  I could have worn other clothes.

Then the instructor went over the motions again on how to load a semi automatic pistol.  He used the same type he had used last week.  I was ready!  He split the class in two groups, revolvers and semi-automatics. Then we all filed out to the “indoor range” (that was approximately 26 degrees because of the fans that replace the air with outdoor air every so many seconds). I ended up with a gun I had never seen before.  It was not like the one he showed us and I had no idea how to use it other than putting the magazine in it.  But worse than that – there were 12 ladies and only 10 headsets for ear protection.  Two of us had to use foam earplugs alone.  I could not get mine to seat properly in my ears. 

So there I am, in my good clothes, freezing, holding a loaded weapon I knew nothing about, and everyone else starts to fire.  Every shot sent a violent jerk-reaction through my body.  It was a reflex that I could not control.  I could feel the tears coming when a female instructor touched my shoulder and asked if she could help.  I swear she had a halo above her head!  Anyway, She showed me how to load the gun and how this particular type worked, but I could not stop the violent jumping whenever someone else fired.  After a few minutes she came back with another headset for me.  Then  I could hear the shots being fired but the volume was such that I could handle it.  Unfortunately, by this time I was a wreck and just wanted to get out of there.  They knew I would be missing the next class because of my trip, but I would be back for the fourth and final class.  When the time came I could not force myself to go back.  I just couldn’t do it.

Now I am back to square one and feeling like a failure.  I still feel the need to have a pistol and someday I would like to be comfortable enough to carry a concealed firearm.  I am still a ways off but I’m not giving up.  I heard the female instructors taking about their self-defense classes, so maybe that’s where I need to start. I was pretty discouraged about the class not working out for me, but at least I tried.

 This is how a scared girl shoots when her body is jerking from loud noises!

Next. . . ! 

Blessings,

Red

Idaho, California, NRA and TSA

We’ve been busy!  We discovered a business for sale in a small Northern Idaho town – be still my heart – and knew we had to investigate.  So we took a Thursday and Friday off work, flew to Spokane, WA and rented a car.  We stayed in the closest town with a hotel – Post Falls, Idaho.  To us that was a pretty big town.  We met with the owners of the business, spent four hours driving around  with a Realtor, and pretty much ate at every restaurant in town. We wanted so badly for things to work out, but in the end (which wasn’t until several weeks later) we realized we could not make it work for us.

(This is not the business, but I fell in love with those snowy hills.  The locals told us they are full of Moose.)

A different kind of “local” greeted us on this dead end road.

And of course no trip to Post Falls  is complete without a shopping spree at Cabela’s!

Flying out of Spokane was a challenge for me.  The Spokane airport has Backscatter machines, also known as Naked Body Scanners.  Shortly before it was my turn I saw the little sign that explained what the machine was and my stomach knotted up instantly.  I knew I was not going through that machine no matter what.  I also had a great fear of the alternative.  I read so many horror stories about the new “groping TSA”.  When it was my turn the man motioned me towards the machine and I looked him in the eye and said “I refuse to go through there”.  I was pleasant about it, but he knew I was serious.  He got a bit flustered for a moment, (maybe nobody else ever did that to him), and then he pulled out a business card and said “I have to read this to you, Ma’am”.  It was a script saying that if I refused to be scanned I would have to submit to a “pat down” by a TSA agent.  I told him I understood and accepted that (as long as the agent was a female!).  They motioned me around the machine and a friendly woman approached me.  She asked if I wanted a more private screening and I declined.  Now here is the amazing part.  It was nothing!  She explained every single thing she needed to do before she did it, she ALWAYS used the back of her hand, and in no way did she grope or make me feel violated.  I have been singled out for pat downs many times in the past, and this was not much different.  She did check my clothing for explosives by wearing gloves and then wiping a pad on the gloves when she was finished.  Then she put the pad in a machine which scanned for explosives. Maybe it was just my lucky day, I don’t know, but I was greatly relieved that it was no more than that.

When we got back home I started my NRA Ladies Basic Pistol Class.  The first class was so much fun I couldn’t wait for the next one.  There is a lot to say about this experience so I will leave it for a post of its own.   I missed the 3rd class because we flew down to California to see my folks for a week.  The weather was beautiful, but too warm for me.  My body is in “cold weather mode” right now and the blood is thick! The warm weather was quite uncomfortable and I don’t think it ever even got to 70 degrees!  I love my folks, I’m glad we went, but boy was I happy to get home and sleep in my own bed with just my nose poking out because it was so cold!

I have not been around to visit for awhile but I’ll try to get caught up on everything that’s going on.

Thanks for stopping by!

Red