Last night I had a true, All-American Friday night. Some have no idea what that means (and probably never will)… and others will roll their eyes because they just don’t understand (and probably never will). You don’t have to be American to have an All-American Friday, as it is part of a transcendent and spiritual experience that permeates all that is right and true in the whole of creation.
Last night I whisked my wife (whom I married Biblically in one-man/one-woman matrimony) off to a local shooting range where we celebrated the 2nd Amendment to the Constitution of the United States. Local marksman Bernie Gansle generously offered his instruments of freedom for us to send heavy metal downrange. The AR-15 was very much like my old friend, the M-16… but I also made a new friend, the Colt 45 semi-automatic. And by the way, this was my wife’s first shoot, and she did VERY well.
Afterwards we enjoyed some delicious Sam Adams Seasonal Summer Ale at a local eatery while watching the Red Sox play the Yankees. In between refreshing sips of ale I enjoyed steak smothered in caramelized onions paired with garlic-mashed potatoes. MMMmmmm.
Rifle / pistol shooting - Major League Baseball - steak and potatoes - Boston-brewed ale… and THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is how it’s done!
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What a blessed man you are. Good for Tami. And God bless America!
The cool thing about being all American is that we can all have different ideas of what constitutes an all-American Friday. Between my father and my brothers, my family probably has enough firepower to outfit a small, if ragtag, army. I’m the odd man out, having never progressed beyond the Daisy BB gun which I used to murder a small bird as a kid. I cried for hours and that experience soured me on guns, I guess. Baseball? Bleah. Grown men dressed up in clothes more befitting children, running around hitting, throwing, clubbing and otherwise chasing spherical objects of assorted sized holds absolutely no appeal for me. Boston brewed ale? I prefer a English brown, myself. But hey, I’ll raise a pint of Newcastle and toast the diversity of all-American Friday nights.
Rachel :: Thanks, I am blessed. And I highly recommend the Colt .45 Gov’t Issue AUTO.
Capo :: Indeed, my Friday night did not come close to exhausting all the All-American things I could have done… I’m just not used to hitting so many in one night. Admittedly, getting to fire downrange was the highlight, though… and the only thing as directly related to the Constitution (unless you count the amendments to prohibit, then allow, alcohol).
Newcastle is good. I once had to club a woodchuck with a bat.
Only all-American if you were rooting for the Yankees!
I was going to ask where you find a shooting range in the Capital Region (I’ve never seen one around here), but then I remembered I live near downtown Schenectady.
rock on, oh waraxe, man of all things american!! Methinks I am thirsty for some of that Sam Adams summer Ale!
Heather :: Ahh… so true, and alas, I was cheering for the Red Sox. Although they didn’t win, I did get to see Manny gun down A-Rod at second base.
We went shooting at Watervliet Rod & Gun Club (which is in Guilderland, not Watervliet), not too far from Schenectady. However, you are right… I believe more rounds of ammunition are fired in Hamilton Hill than the rest of the Capital District combined.
BA :: You know it! And that Sam Summer was de-lici-ous!
Sounds like a perfect night, replace the baseball with football (soccer), the ale with a cold beer (probably a czech pint) and definitely keep the steak, that’s a good start to the weekend.
honestly, that was awesome
Sounds great, but fell one activity short of perfection. I guess the stereotypes of marriage are true.
@ David ::
Some things are just not blogged… but I don’t discourage reading between the the lines.