I Shot a Gun Today

I am 38-years old. I grew up in the middle-of-nowhere Tennessee, and, today, I shot a gun for the first time. Not only did I shoot it, but I hit the target. A tiny target.

I believe this means I can retire as a successful gunslinger.

For those of you who are interested in this kind of thing, the gun was a Bersa Thunder 380 which sounds like a comic book character and a stripper name all at once.

I can’t say I liked the experience. I can’t say I disliked it either.

I’m a ground fighter by training. I did jiu jitsu for a number of years, and I prefer my violence to be unimpeded by implements.

I did, however, find that I wanted to shoot again and again, because I knew I could do better. I knew I could get better at hitting the tiny targets.

But, again, it was never fun for me. It was uncomfortable and stressful.

This will not be my new hobby, but I will do what I can to keep this skill fresh just as I do arm bars, wrist locks, and chokes.


This might be the most violent blog post I’ve ever written, and, on the heels of the children’s book writing posts that I’ve added over the last two days, this might be jarring for you. But let this be a permission slip for you –

You can be more than one thing. You can be a children’s book author and a UFC fan and whatever the hell else you want to be. You’re a person. People have layers.

Me. I said it.

Happy Hunting.

Side note – my ‘happy hunting’ statement is always meant to the imply the hunt for the self and great knowledge.

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