Kinda strange. Heart racing. Lightheaded. Been going to the bathroom alot. No headaches thankfully. Tried playing piano and some of my coordination is kinda strange. Dull or slow on the draw. Vision is still kinda far fetched. I even asked. "Okay God, whats wrong here i'm more abnormal than normal"

Heh. abnormal. GO ME.

Not sure. Maby tired is catching up with me. You know otherwise I feel great. Maby it is a small bug of some sort. Who knows. It's one of those things that you been trotting along doing great and then you get kinda slammed and not really sick but not quite right in the head either. (Like i was anways.. .but that is another story)

Nonetheless.

Thanksgiving has come and gone. It was good being around family again in Oklahoma. (even the not so good family) I spent some great time talking with my Grandpa. It's funny because we would look up at the clock and it would be well after midnight and I know that he normally be in bed around 9. Good times.

During some of those conversations, I saw some things that gave me that sense of little kid wonder. I knew I was talking with an old guy. Well into his 70's... but I got these glimpses of his heart still being young and bristling with life. It was like talking to a close friend you have known for years but seeing the voice and actions come from young heart trapped in an old body.

I vowed to stay young. Even when i'm 80 or beyond. Young. Piss and Vinegar despite prostate problems. Come what may.

I appreciated the conversation. I don't know to many old folks who would stay up past midnight talking to a young guy. I was a captive audience. Stories ranging from dogs to the Bible to funny church stories to work to how funny old westerns are to navy stories to missions stories to being on the run in China to cross country trips across the nation before the interestate system to hard times... courage, strength, laughter, struggle, despair, truth, hope... all mixed up together. And chocolate iced with some really great amazing family stories that could never be repeated to anyone.

Then after thanksgiving dinner.. out came my gun. Yep I own a gun. It's in my grandpas bedroom on the gun rack. It's my special gun because grandpa like it so bad I ended up leaving it there and not taking it with me so he could play with it during the year. Right up there with the antique shot guns, 22's the whole nine yards. Ammo under the dresser in the shoe box where it has been for years.

And it's really funny how big a deal this walmart bb gun has become. It has all the prestige of the other guns with the big ammo and then some. Folks let me tell you, a tank couldn't compare to this gun.

This gun united my family. In all out war.

First things first here.

Okay, dad was a recon marine sniper in VietNam. No joke this guy competed and was the top marksman in the marines for several years. Friggin Eagle Eye. I have finally demanded he get his medals mounted and he has started doing that so his grandkids will have something to look at with honor... good stuff ya know. Years before the walmart bb gun we all heard stories of dad showing everyone up shooting and crap. Well he is older now.. out of practice. That means son and other family might have a chance.

Anways, usually it starts with a dr pepper can. Thrown out in the yard. Shooting it all over the yard. Usually when it has made it 40 yards off towards the edge of the woods near the pine trees you can't hardly see it because it's all shot up and you can't move it because of the utter destruction.. K.. now you have to make it spin with each shot... okay.. now you have to flip it up in the air. This happens every year. The exception was this year it became dangerous high stakes.

Rules are you gotta stay on the porch. I mean this is redneck walmart bb-gunnin at it's finest. Another male usually gets involved. This time it was my younger cousin Steve (16) quiet but still kinda adventuresome. The crowd watching usually grows and folks inside start coming out watching the shooting contest.

Bring in a cigarette. Placed on remains of what might have been a dr pepper can. Object is to hit the cigarette.

I nail it. Bottom of the cigarette right above the filter. Broke off the tobacco part and in the paper perfectly in the middle is a razor sharp hole.

Crowd goes wild. Others give it a shot and can't do it. I give it a try again (let me tell you I was believing with all my heart it was luck the first time I actually hit it but surprised nonetheless) I NAIL IT AGAIN perfectly in the middle of the cigarette.

Okay so my cousin tries a few times. Dad is watchin and he is getting that trigger itch. He gives it a try a few and gets dang close. I let all the other guys try since I'm still glowing from the 2 assult strikes and figure they need their chance.

Steve nails it and me and him go wild. We are like... BRO did you see how far away that was!

I pop an altoid in my mouth and had a moment... altoids... white. kinda small... wonder how they explode with a bb from long range.

I kid you not.. We got a few altoids (backups incase we were really good)... put a stick at the end of the yard with a y in it... put the altoid in the middle of the y and it was on like gang busters.

YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT FRIGGIN HARD. Heart would beat and you would be off the mark. It was all on from here. Then Steve nailed it and this altoid went from a really itty bitty tiny white dot to looking like someone took a handful of flower and threw it in the air. WE were freaking out. Dad gets really interested. He nails one after a few times. We go wild because it's like you can't hardly see it with the naked eye it's so far away...

Me and steve kept at it and soon I had lost a half tin of altoids to the fever frenzy of blowing them up from long range bb-assult missles. Coolest thing ever.

People on the porch increased till there were no more places to sit unless you sat on the porch steps. Conversation would stop before the trigger was pulled. Roaring cheers when an altoid would meet it's demise.

So it's getting late and kinda chilly.. me and steve have about killed our arms have have blisters on our palms from cocking the gun about 8 - 9 times to get good trajectory at such distance. Dad makes the call to move back the stick even farther. I walked way out set it all up. I dono.. 60.. 70 paces away? Dad gets a funny grin on his face..

It was so far away we couldn't see it. Just dark enough you had to really squint. No scope. Dad nails it like a sniper the first time. Me and steve jaw drop. Dad big teethy goofy grin. I'm astounded he actually did it. We try and can't match it.

He is still an eagle eye.

So my bb-gun went back up on the gun rack with all the rest of the guns with the same prestige as the 22 and antique shotguns. Waiting for next year to roll around.