Hawaii Diarii, Day 2, Part 3

Evening update, 10:30 p.m. Hawaii time. I'm dragging... dragging my butt to the nightclub that is! To celebrate!

• No, I didn't win a T-shirt. Though I did buy some stuffed animals for Dave's kids. I worry Ben's getting a little old at 4, but hey, it's a shark with a surfboard.

• On the other hand, when the dead rise/Russians invade/draft is restored...

Give me a .22 rifle and a counter to lean on, and I'll shoot the shit out of the bad guys!

I opted for "cheaper" over "safer" and went for the Royal Hawaiian Shooting Club's 50 percent off sale. Six guns, 54 shots, 49 bucks (the green kind, not the deer kind).

The heavier handguns, I'll confess, gave me some problems, as did my slipping glasses, which I couldn't push up under the safety goggles. (I typed "googles." Guess I'm doing too much Web searching... which ironically enough is one of the seminars at the con - better surfing of the Net variety.)

Guess I'd better work out if I'm going to play with the big boys - though I did put one through the bull's-eye with the .357 Magnum.

Let's recap:

• .22 semi-automatic pistol with laser-sight: Not bad, I started out shooting a little low, but the second clip, I got my groove on and my gun off. Nine shots inside the center two rings, with one nicking the bull's-eye.

• .22 semi-automatic rifle with cross-hair sight: Not only did the instructor mark the "Hall of Fame" box, he wrote "V. Good!" on the target. Of two clips, 20 shots, I put three in the third ring out, everything else inside the first two rings or the bull's-eye, including one dead freakin' center through the X. Heck, I only put three through the second ring out - everything else was in the 10-point ring or hit the bull's-eye. I am the God of .22s, at least for somebody who's never fired a rifle in his life.

• .22 revolver with cross-hair sight: I should've quit while I was ahead. This performance was adequate, but the heavier gun pulled me low. One shot in the center ring, the rest low, but reasonable, one in the third ring, four in the fourth.

• 9mm Glock semi-automatic with weapon sights: Jeez, that's heavy. And it kicks like hell, too. I don't know how cops do it. Big forearms, I guess. I was high on all six shots, trying to get used to the sights. I did get three in the inner three rings, but missed the other three high and left. Without the scope, I can't see how I'm doing - hell, with the scope I couldn't really tell.

• 9mm (?) revolver with weapon sights: I hooked everything left, though I got one through the second ring and one through the third. Really had trouble without the good sights and with the weight and kick. My arms were getting tired - these are heavy guns. I forget the exact caliber of the revolver, but it was between the Glock and the .357.

• .357 Magnum revolver with weapon sights: I may be a killer with a .22, but I've got a little ways before I'm Dirty Eric. This is the only weapon I missed the target with, barely nicking the outside ring high and right on one shot and evidently whiffing on another entirely, as I only have five holes in the target. One of 'em is that glorious bull's-eye, though. Three other shots were adequate, one in the third ring and two in the fourth.

All-in-all, I think it's the .22 rifle target I'm putting on my wall. It was a lot of fun, though I got whacked in the head with more than one ricocheting casing, and a couple rolled onto my arms, and boy did that sting. And the backlash of air from the one gun taught me a lesson - keep your mouth closed while shooting.

Still, another life goal accomplished. And pretty well, at least at times. I was worried I'd make a complete fool of myself, but now no one can question my manliness, at least in one .22-caliber respect. And what a rush!

On the other hand, indoors in Hawaii in a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts is one thing. I don't think I'm going to be outside with a .22 rifle the day after Thanksgiving, freezing my ass off waiting for Bambi.

But hey, out of 54 shots, only three wouldn't have stopped a zombie cold. (Cold-er.) I may not be ready for Parris Island and Gunnery Sgt. Hartman, but like a good Jerseyan, I am definitely ready for the (Monroeville) Mall.

On to the next part!