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    • UnderDawg

      A Few Simple Rules   05/22/2017

      Sailing Anarchy is a very lightly moderated site. This is by design, to afford a more free atmosphere for discussion. There are plenty of sailing forums you can go to where swearing isn't allowed, confrontation is squelched and, and you can have a moderator finger-wag at you for your attitude. SA tries to avoid that and allow for more adult behavior without moderators editing your posts and whacking knuckles with rulers. We don't have a long list of published "thou shalt nots" either, and this is by design. Too many absolute rules paints us into too many corners. So check the Terms of Service - there IS language there about certain types of behavior that is not permitted. We interpret that lightly and permit a lot of latitude, but we DO reserve the right to take action when something is too extreme to tolerate (too racist, graphic, violent, misogynistic, etc.). Yes, that is subjective, but it allows us discretion. Avoiding a laundry list of rules allows for freedom; don't abuse it. However there ARE a few basic rules that will earn you a suspension, and apparently a brief refresher is in order. 1) Allegations of pedophilia - there is no tolerance for this. So if you make allegations, jokes, innuendo or suggestions about child molestation, child pornography, abuse or inappropriate behavior with minors etc. about someone on this board you will get a time out. This is pretty much automatic; this behavior can have real world effect and is not acceptable. Obviously the subject is not banned when discussion of it is apropos, e.g. talking about an item in the news for instance. But allegations or references directed at or about another poster is verboten. 2) Outing people - providing real world identifiable information about users on the forums who prefer to remain anonymous. Yes, some of us post with our real names - not a problem to use them. However many do NOT, and if you find out someone's name keep it to yourself, first or last. This also goes for other identifying information too - employer information etc. You don't need too many pieces of data to figure out who someone really is these days. Depending on severity you might get anything from a scolding to a suspension - so don't do it. I know it can be confusing sometimes for newcomers, as SA has been around almost twenty years and there are some people that throw their real names around and their current Display Name may not match the name they have out in the public. But if in doubt, you don't want to accidentally out some one so use caution, even if it's a personal friend of yours in real life. 3) Posting While Suspended - If you've earned a timeout (these are fairly rare and hard to get), please observe the suspension. If you create a new account (a "Sock Puppet") and return to the forums to post with it before your suspension is up you WILL get more time added to your original suspension and lose your Socks. This behavior may result a permanent ban, since it shows you have zero respect for the few rules we have and the moderating team that is tasked with supporting them. Check the Terms of Service you agreed to; they apply to the individual agreeing, not the account you created, so don't try to Sea Lawyer us if you get caught. Just don't do it. Those are the three that will almost certainly get you into some trouble. IF YOU SEE SOMEONE DO ONE OF THESE THINGS, please do the following: Refrain from quoting the offending text, it makes the thread cleanup a pain in the rear Press the Report button; it is by far the best way to notify Admins as we will get e-mails. Calling out for Admins in the middle of threads, sending us PM's, etc. - there is no guarantee we will get those in a timely fashion. There are multiple Moderators in multiple time zones around the world, and anyone one of us can handle the Report and all of us will be notified about it. But if you PM one Mod directly and he's off line, the problem will get dealt with much more slowly. Other behaviors that you might want to think twice before doing include: Intentionally disrupting threads and discussions repeatedly. Off topic/content free trolling in threads to disrupt dialog Stalking users around the forums with the intent to disrupt content and discussion Repeated posting of overly graphic or scatological porn content. There are plenty web sites for you to get your freak on, don't do it here. And a brief note to Newbies... No, we will not ban people or censor them for dropping F-bombs on you, using foul language, etc. so please don't report it when one of our members gives you a greeting you may find shocking. We do our best not to censor content here and playing swearword police is not in our job descriptions. Sailing Anarchy is more like a bar than a classroom, so handle it like you would meeting someone a little coarse - don't look for the teacher. Thanks.
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El Mariachi

'I can't believe we made it'....

70 posts in this topic

Submitted sans comment.....

 

 

 

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.

 

....Nina Hagen and Ecstacy. It was all downhill from there.

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.

 

....Nina Hagen and Ecstacy. It was all downhill from there.

 

I dunno, Nina was pretty far down the hill at that point.

 

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Funny, this is the same generation that has produced the couch potato, self absorbed idiots that populate the world today and yet their parents sit back and wonder why the world is all fucked up. It didn't happen in a vacuum, you ass carrots. If you hadn't been passed over for that Little League team position when you were little, you wouldn't be "That" parent screaming at the coach for not selecting your little ill behaved, overweight, mouth breathing monster.

 

Another item, people have been around for a few milenia, it's funny how each generation likes to think they are special for having survived in to middle age and beyond. Guess what you narcissistic buttwads, everyone before you made it too. Get over it. Get you and your kids off of the fuking couch, stop sharing your nauseating life on Facebook and do something real.

 

*The rant above is not directed at any SA'ers, just at the world in general. And get of my lawn!

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Well, "back in my day" we knew how to spell millennia. The soaker is a good example of the modern kid: too lazy to right-click on the spellchecker even with the red line staring him in the face.

 

 

NTTAWWT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Well, "back in my day" we knew how to spell millennia. The soaker is a good example of the modern kid: too lazy to right-click on the spellchecker even with the red line staring him in the face.

 

 

NTTAWWT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What red lienes?

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Well, "back in my day" we knew how to spell millennia. The soaker is a good example of the modern kid: too lazy to right-click on the spellchecker even with the red line staring him in the face.

 

 

NTTAWWT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What red lienes?

Dropping the ball Snaggs. You got one word correct there. I hope it's not catching.

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We had a family reunion this past weekend, and me and my two same age cousins we're talking about this... all the crap we did, crazy plans we came up with and excuted, trouble we got into, and we're here today.

 

As a reference point, I was born in the Eisenhower Administration; I remember air-raid drills and bomb shelters… we were ground zero in those days, use to go to Saturday matinee movies by ourselves, ate Good Humor ice cream, etc… built tree forts from construction scrap lumber and maybe a few borrowed sheets of plywood… had our own Ithica .22 rifles before the 5th grade… knew how to patch a flat bike tire, etc…. Oh! Yea forgot.... use to get the shit kicked out of us by the nuns if we couldn’t add, subtract, multiply or divide fractions on the spot without paper, understood Latin, or didn’t have your homework done. And may all the saints help you if your shoes weren’t polished..

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Living in the western world over the past 50 years. Yeah that must have been some rough shit.

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Living in the western world over the past 50 years. Yeah that must have been some rough shit.

Oh yeah, Manhattan Beach was an absolute 5th World shit hole back in the day.....:lol:

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Funny, this is the same generation that has produced the couch potato, self absorbed idiots that populate the world today and yet their parents sit back and wonder why the world is all fucked up. It didn't happen in a vacuum, you ass carrots. If you hadn't been passed over for that Little League team position when you were little, you wouldn't be "That" parent screaming at the coach for not selecting your little ill behaved, overweight, mouth breathing monster.

 

Another item, people have been around for a few milenia, it's funny how each generation likes to think they are special for having survived in to middle age and beyond. Guess what you narcissistic buttwads, everyone before you made it too. Get over it. Get you and your kids off of the fuking couch, stop sharing your nauseating life on Facebook and do something real.

 

*The rant above is not directed at any SA'ers, just at the world in general. And get of my lawn!

Boom

 

I agree 100%, parents act like they had nothing to do with the outcome.

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If sailing survives, I wonder when regattas will start giving out participation trophies.

 

I remember not being picked for the 7th grade basketball team. I was butthurt and thought my world was over. My dad just told me to HTFU work harder in our driveway court and put me in a church league. By the end of the basketball season I was better than most team members tails on the court in PE.

 

As a child of the fifties, it seems to me the eighties were when the slide toward over-protectiveness began. Was that when all the missing kids started showing up on milk cartons?

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Milk carton missing kids was in the 70's, from what I can remember. Some scary stuff was going on back then. Hasn't gotten any better today.

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Well, "back in my day" we knew how to spell millennia. The soaker is a good example of the modern kid: too lazy to right-click on the spellchecker even with the red line staring him in the face.

 

 

NTTAWWT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Just starting my 6th decade, so thanks for calling me a kid, that felt good, although compared to someone of your age I am sure I am a kid. As far as spelling, as the CEO and chairman of the Vowels for Poland campaign, I occasionally omit a vowel to show solidarity with my vowel deficient countrymen. The missing "n" was however an oversight. We can discuss that mistake in Pedantry Anarchy if you like.

 

BTW, spell checker is two words, that red line staring you in the face should have tipped you off. ;)

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Too fukin shay, sir. I gots me 2 red lines right there. I do take your points. I've hustled my butt off over these 7+ decades, mostly due to the bad luck of no trust fund. My eldest, 28, is a starving artist who lives on Lake Shore Dr. and isn't starving due to his great fortune of genetics. He once called me a slacker. I guess that's because I missed out on those Nobel and Pulitzer Prizes, wasn't elevated to the USSC and didn't win a Super Bowl. His mother, my trophy ex, and a do-gooder beyond measure is an old lefty of the spare the rod sentiment. The kid is still pissed I sent him to Outward Bound. My childhood WAS outward bound. I thought it was pretty good.

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Too fukin shay, sir. I gots me 2 red lines right there. I do take your points. I've hustled my butt off over these 7+ decades, mostly due to the bad luck of no trust fund. My eldest, 28, is a starving artist who lives on Lake Shore Dr. and isn't starving due to his great fortune of genetics. He once called me a slacker. I guess that's because I missed out on those Nobel and Pulitzer Prizes, wasn't elevated to the USSC and didn't win a Super Bowl. His mother, my trophy ex, and a do-gooder beyond measure is an old lefty of the spare the rod sentiment. The kid is still pissed I sent him to Outward Bound. My childhood WAS outward bound. I thought it was pretty good.

It's ok old timer, it sounds like you did ok. My almost 25 y.o. daughter is in her last year of pre-med, has a 3.9 GPA and does't use Facebook often among many other good qualities so I am pretty happy about her. Bit of a slacker myself but I have had a pretty interesting life so...

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If sailing survives, I wonder when regattas will start giving out participation trophies.

 

 

 

You must have never been to a wooden boat regatta.

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We were up in the high country camping and came across a father and his two sons walking back to camp along side the road after a long hike. After we passed I looked in the rearview mirror saw the father stick out his thumb. Stopped, backed up and picked them up. We have a extended cab but they jumped in the bed and down the road we went. I remember riding in the back of pickups when young and it made me smile that these boys got to enjoy what we took for granted when young. Doubt the father was old enough to have enjoyed it as well when young.

 

Good times.

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My kids are so sheltered. I was just telling my wife the other day that at 6 years old I was exploring the boonies and caves in Guam with my older brothers who were 8 and 9. This was only 25 years after the battle for Guam, and there were not only still numerous war relics like naval guns, lots of brass, even a rusted destroyer run up on a beach, but it turned out later even a Japanese Army holdout still sneaking around. Those were different times, though I still question Moms judgement.

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Chum

 

I was just learning to walk during my Dads tour on Guam. He and his buddies would haul icechests and picnic baskets to the tropical waterfall well up the mountain and the moms and kids would follow along. After the long hot sweaty climb to the falls, everyone would jump in the pool at the base of the falls to cool off. Afterward, when opening the picnic baskets to eat, there would always be items missing like fried chicken and other goodies that the womenfolk would swear had been packed back at the kitchen. Many years later when the Japanese soldier who had hidden out for decades we realized that it must have been him raiding the picnic baskets. In his account of those long years in the jungle, he admitted hiding near the remote falls and it wasn't until he stole a Sunday newspaper and saw the Emperor shaking hands with President Nixon did he believe that the war was actually over.

 

http://www.history.com/speeches/speeches-hirohito-visits-the-united-states

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That generation also spawned

The Lawyers that realized they could sue for any reason and collect for filing paper work.

The Ass hole Politicos that have regulated the US to DEATH, especially in Calif.

More Lobbists in congress than elected officials.

 

I survived the Punk era too.

 

 

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Many years ago, our two daughters, now in their fifties, "interacted" with varying neighbor's kids. I found out:

 

"Never, ever, criticize your neighbor's dogs or kids, in that order".

 

Pauk T

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At the club the other day and the paid adult tennis instructor for our junior program tells me he supplied the names of the kids that should get

awards at the annual dinner to the parent member volunteer who oversees the program. most improved, MVP, best record, etc

Next day parent gives the list back to the instructor and says please change 5-6 names on the list and pick different kids.

Instructor asks why?

Parent says those kids won awards last year, and we want to spread them around

Instructor says ok, might be some of the same kids, but these awards are for different achievements than last year. different age groups, etc, Not the same thing.

Parent says no matter, we want to spread them around

Instructor disagreed but changed the names and then caught hell from parents who's kids were ripped off.

Then you have to sit through 150 kids individually being called up and getting participation awards.

 

Used to be the team tee shirt you got to wear as a uniform was your participation award.

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Jarts.

 

Klik-N-Klaks.

 

 

That is all.

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Chum

 

I was just learning to walk during my Dads tour on Guam. He and his buddies would haul icechests and picnic baskets to the tropical waterfall well up the mountain and the moms and kids would follow along. After the long hot sweaty climb to the falls, everyone would jump in the pool at the base of the falls to cool off. Afterward, when opening the picnic baskets to eat, there would always be items missing like fried chicken and other goodies that the womenfolk would swear had been packed back at the kitchen. Many years later when the Japanese soldier who had hidden out for decades we realized that it must have been him raiding the picnic baskets. In his account of those long years in the jungle, he admitted hiding near the remote falls and it wasn't until he stole a Sunday newspaper and saw the Emperor shaking hands with President Nixon did he believe that the war was actually over.

 

http://www.history.com/speeches/speeches-hirohito-visits-the-united-states

I still remember the place vividly. We were at the Naval station near Orote Pt.. Gab Gab beach was 5 minutes walk. There was an old Japanese runway near the house. My brothers and I were detained by some SPs for climbing on that old destroyer on the beach. I was pretty shaken up and Dad, an O3 at the time with a command, straigtned these guys up like a piece of wire at my moms insistence. :)

Good times on Guam.

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Jarts.

 

Klik-N-Klaks.

 

 

That is all.

Is that the clickity clack Savage you mean?

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At the club the other day and the paid adult tennis instructor for our junior program tells me he supplied the names of the kids that should get

awards at the annual dinner to the parent member volunteer who oversees the program. most improved, MVP, best record, etc

Next day parent gives the list back to the instructor and says please change 5-6 names on the list and pick different kids.

Instructor asks why?

Parent says those kids won awards last year, and we want to spread them around

Instructor says ok, might be some of the same kids, but these awards are for different achievements than last year. different age groups, etc, Not the same thing.

Parent says no matter, we want to spread them around

Instructor disagreed but changed the names and then caught hell from parents who's kids were ripped off.

Then you have to sit through 150 kids individually being called up and getting participation awards.

 

Used to be the team tee shirt you got to wear as a uniform was your participation award.

 

Rewarding achievement is so unfair.

 

Paul T

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Funny, this is the same generation that has produced the couch potato, self absorbed idiots that populate the world today and yet their parents sit back and wonder why the world is all fucked up. It didn't happen in a vacuum, you ass carrots. If you hadn't been passed over for that Little League team position when you were little, you wouldn't be "That" parent screaming at the coach for not selecting your little ill behaved, overweight, mouth breathing monster.

 

Another item, people have been around for a few milenia, it's funny how each generation likes to think they are special for having survived in to middle age and beyond. Guess what you narcissistic buttwads, everyone before you made it too. Get over it. Get you and your kids off of the fuking couch, stop sharing your nauseating life on Facebook and do something real.

 

*The rant above is not directed at any SA'ers, just at the world in general. And get of my lawn!

Boom

 

I agree 100%, parents act like they had nothing to do with the outcome.

 

 

 

TV.... the downfall... it was our parents who thought it was ok to sit in front of the tv all day / night... which morfed into sitting in front of the computer and now cell phones...

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Jarts.

 

Klik-N-Klaks.

 

 

That is all.

Is that the clickity clack Savage you mean?

 

 

Nope, these toys.

51Jo7r192eL._SX466__zpsapiceicf.jpg

 

71bb4b70d4aa2142b9cf3544b5333171ZXJlenBs

 

Plastic resin toys that you would get going in a high speed opposite circle and hit each other producing a "klik klak" sound.

 

The plastic balls would (supposedly) shatter and take out an eye (producing a Lawyers wet dream).

 

 

And, no, I was far too young and innocent to even think of any other uses for them.

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Jarts.

 

Klik-N-Klaks.

 

 

That is all.

 

 

If you can find a pic of the Lovely Nurse on F/Book.....you'll see just how good dentistry actually was back in '71.....

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At the club the other day and the paid adult tennis instructor for our junior program tells me he supplied the names of the kids that should get

awards at the annual dinner to the parent member volunteer who oversees the program. most improved, MVP, best record, etc

Next day parent gives the list back to the instructor and says please change 5-6 names on the list and pick different kids.

Instructor asks why?

Parent says those kids won awards last year, and we want to spread them around

Instructor says ok, might be some of the same kids, but these awards are for different achievements than last year. different age groups, etc, Not the same thing.

Parent says no matter, we want to spread them around

Instructor disagreed but changed the names and then caught hell from parents who's kids were ripped off.

Then you have to sit through 150 kids individually being called up and getting participation awards.

 

Used to be the team tee shirt you got to wear as a uniform was your participation award.

 

Rewarding achievement is so unfair.

 

Paul T

 

Back in the '80s the military decided they need a ribbon to take the place of the Letter of Commendation because the letters only showed up in your 201 (personnel) file, not on your uniform. At the time the lowest ribbon for doing something good during peacetime was the Army Commendation Medal (ARCOM) which actually required something pretty significant to be awarded. So they came out with the Army Achievement Medal (AAM) which was basically an atta boy you could wear over your left pocket.

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Jarts.

 

Klik-N-Klaks.

 

 

That is all.

Is that the clickity clack Savage you mean?

 

 

Nope, these toys.

51Jo7r192eL._SX466__zpsapiceicf.jpg

 

71bb4b70d4aa2142b9cf3544b5333171ZXJlenBs

 

Plastic resin toys that you would get going in a high speed opposite circle and hit each other producing a "klik klak" sound.

 

The plastic balls would (supposedly) shatter and take out an eye (producing a Lawyers wet dream).

 

 

And, no, I was far too young and innocent to even think of any other uses for them.

 

These days they would come with a full face helmet. Like an Opti.

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At the club the other day and the paid adult tennis instructor for our junior program tells me he supplied the names of the kids that should get

awards at the annual dinner to the parent member volunteer who oversees the program. most improved, MVP, best record, etc

Next day parent gives the list back to the instructor and says please change 5-6 names on the list and pick different kids.

Instructor asks why?

Parent says those kids won awards last year, and we want to spread them around

Instructor says ok, might be some of the same kids, but these awards are for different achievements than last year. different age groups, etc, Not the same thing.

Parent says no matter, we want to spread them around

Instructor disagreed but changed the names and then caught hell from parents who's kids were ripped off.

Then you have to sit through 150 kids individually being called up and getting participation awards.

 

Used to be the team tee shirt you got to wear as a uniform was your participation award.

 

Rewarding achievement is so unfair.

 

Paul T

 

Back in the '80s the military decided they need a ribbon to take the place of the Letter of Commendation because the letters only showed up in your 201 (personnel) file, not on your uniform. At the time the lowest ribbon for doing something good during peacetime was the Army Commendation Medal (ARCOM) which actually required something pretty significant to be awarded. So they came out with the Army Achievement Medal (AAM) which was basically an atta boy you could wear over your left pocket.

 

 

Right, I got out of the Navy Reserve in 1961. In the 8 years I was in, I didn't kill anyone, blow up anything, capture or rescue anyone.

So, I didn't receive any medals. However, I did get to keep my uniform with the Construction Electrician, 2nd Class emblem on the sleeve.

 

IIRC, it had the big flap in the front, with 13 buttons.

 

Paul T

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Jarts.

 

Klik-N-Klaks.

 

 

That is all.

 

Is that the clickity clack Savage you mean?

Nope, these toys.

51Jo7r192eL._SX466__zpsapiceicf.jpg

 

71bb4b70d4aa2142b9cf3544b5333171ZXJlenBs

 

Plastic resin toys that you would get going in a high speed opposite circle and hit each other producing a "klik klak" sound.

 

 

 

The plastic balls would (supposedly) shatter and take out an eye (producing a Lawyers wet dream).

 

 

And, no, I was far too young and innocent to even think of any other uses for them.

I remember them. I thought you meant the Savage .22 rifles. The middle pictured is one I've had since I was a kid. The top is also a clickity clack (so named for the noise of their action) made to resemble the Gerrand, missing the upper hand guard wood. A kid in possession of one of these would also be a lawyers dream nowadays.

IMG_6169_zps51a37892.jpg

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My dad and I had a shooting range in the basement, we shot .22's into telephone books and boxes of newspapers. No ear protection, middle of suburbia, no problems with neighbours...the good old days.

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My dad and I had a shooting range in the basement, we shot .22's into telephone books and boxes of newspapers. No ear protection, middle of suburbia, no problems with neighbours...the good old days.

 

 

I did some testing on these in our garage, which is the first floor of our entire house footprint, into wet newspaper:

 

https://www.corbon.com/General/glaser-safety-slug.html

 

They worked exactly as described, oh my!! My wife, upstairs, was a bit concerned about the neighbors hearing the sound.

She said "It shakes the house, you know.

 

No, the police never came to the door.

 

Paul T

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My dad and I had a shooting range in the basement, we shot .22's into telephone books and boxes of newspapers. No ear protection, middle of suburbia, no problems with neighbours...the good old days.

 

My dad brought home a mirror shipping crate that was made out of wood... I am guessing it was 3' X 5' X 1'. It was from Italy and kind of a work of art itself. He stood it up way far away in our back yard and refiled it with sand. Then he got some bulls eye targets and couple boxes of .22 amo and let us have at it why he sat there and superivised for the first couple of hours... after that in his mind we were good to go..

 

Do that these day and you'll be on the 5:00 PM news and the moring talk show circut..

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My dad and I had a shooting range in the basement, we shot .22's into telephone books and boxes of newspapers. No ear protection, middle of suburbia, no problems with neighbours...the good old days.

 

My dad brought home a mirror shipping crate that was made out of wood... I am guessing it was 3' X 5' X 1'. It was from Italy and kind of a work of art itself. He stood it up way far away in our back yard and refiled it with sand. Then he got some bulls eye targets and couple boxes of .22 amo and let us have at it why he sat there and superivised for the first couple of hours... after that in his mind we were good to go..

 

Do that these day and you'll be on the 5:00 PM news and the moring talk show circut..

 

 

 

Would you believe that in '71, my buddies and I would actually drive our mini-bikes across Manhattan Beach to the gigantic TRW property near MB Blvd.& Aviation with our .22's and (shudder)........shoot jack rabbits?.....

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Paging Tom Ray, Paging Tom Ray. Tom Ray please report to GA. Another Gun thread drift in progress. That is all.

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It's a thread about being lucky to be alive. We were kids armed with semi automatic rifles. Not only are we lucky to have made it, so is everyone around us. :)

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It's a thread about being lucky to be alive. We were kids armed with semi automatic rifles. Not only are we lucky to have made it, so is everyone around us. :)

 

Fuck, no. We had bolt-action. I took the police firearm safety course that was held in the basement of the police station. We blew the hell out of targets using Lee-Enfields rebored for .22 load. There were dozens of us there, waving around loaded rifles, trusting as all hell.

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The cool thing about the clickity clack was that it could also fire from the locked bolt position, which necessitated clambering each round one at a time. We used to think we got more fps without the blowback loss. Also, it never fired a whole magazine on semiauto without some kind of stoppage anyway, maybe that kept us from becoming mass murderers, who knows.

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Not sure it was luck with us when it came to real rifles. We started early and were usually supervised until age 14 or so when we got driver's licenses.

 

I think I was nine or ten when my dad gave me his old Remington 550-1 semiauto, which he'd refinished and re-blued with the love only a father can give. When I was still living at home, he'd use it whenever he wanted. After I moved 75 miles away, he was always borrowing it. After five or six years of that, I found him a near NIB 550-1. Hid it behind the curtain at Christmas to give him a taste of his own medicine.

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Road skiing was popular when I was young. I wont elaborate but it involved cars, riding boots, beer and doctors. And police on one memorable occasion.

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Road skiing was popular when I was young. I wont elaborate but it involved cars, riding boots, beer and doctors. And police on one memorable occasion.

We did Van's tennis shoes screwed to old water skis. Lash in, grab the 'tow' rope and I'd drag your drunk ass down 12th Street then crack the whip ya at Center. We went thru a lotta coke and Bandaids back then at Heathen Corner.....

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Road skiing was popular when I was young. I wont elaborate but it involved cars, riding boots, beer and doctors. And police on one memorable occasion.

We did Van's tennis shoes screwed to old water skis. Lash in, grab the 'tow' rope and I'd drag your drunk ass down 12th Street then crack the whip ya at Center. We went thru a lotta coke and Bandaids back then at Heathen Corner.....

 

:) Garbage can lid tubing was fun as well but because of the noise you couldn't use the same street twice on the same night.

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The cool thing about the clickity clack was that it could also fire from the locked bolt position, which necessitated clambering each round one at a time. We used to think we got more fps without the blowback loss. Also, it never fired a whole magazine on semiauto without some kind of stoppage anyway, maybe that kept us from becoming mass murderers, who knows.

The stoppage part sounds like an M-16. I always liked firing the M-16, no recoil, very light, very accurate but jebus those things love to jam.

 

When I was a teen we would walk through our suburban community carrying an old Ithaca lever action single shot .22 and a Remington pump .22 with a 10 round tube magazine and a hundred or so rounds of .22 longs.. We would go to the railroad tracks on the edge of town and plink at beer cans in the woods next to the tracks. We would go back there at night with a couple of six packs of whatever was on sale to ensure there were always empty cans to shoot at. I guess if we tried that today it wouldn't end well.

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Can we not turn everything into a gun thread?

 

It hasn't turned out so well and I can't convince my child how good it has become.

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Can we not turn everything into a gun thread?

 

It hasn't turned out so well and I can't convince my child how good it has become.

So, you are against the 2nd?

 

Damn, I always wanted to say that!

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Can we not turn everything into a gun thread?

 

It hasn't turned out so well and I can't convince my child how good it has become.

So, you are against the 2nd?

 

Damn, I always wanted to say that!

 

 

 

I don't know what the 2nd is but I'm guessing it's a shit of a thing.

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Not sure it was luck with us when it came to real rifles. We started early and were usually supervised until age 14 or so when we got driver's licenses.

 

I think I was nine or ten when my dad gave me his old Remington 550-1 semiauto, which he'd refinished and re-blued with the love only a father can give. When I was still living at home, he'd use it whenever he wanted. After I moved 75 miles away, he was always borrowing it. After five or six years of that, I found him a near NIB 550-1. Hid it behind the curtain at Christmas to give him a taste of his own medicine.

I was tongue in cheek about the luck, I just can't find that symbol on the keyboard.

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My dad and I had a shooting range in the basement, we shot .22's into telephone books and boxes of newspapers. No ear protection, middle of suburbia, no problems with neighbours...the good old days.

 

My dad brought home a mirror shipping crate that was made out of wood... I am guessing it was 3' X 5' X 1'. It was from Italy and kind of a work of art itself. He stood it up way far away in our back yard and refiled it with sand. Then he got some bulls eye targets and couple boxes of .22 amo and let us have at it why he sat there and superivised for the first couple of hours... after that in his mind we were good to go..

 

Do that these day and you'll be on the 5:00 PM news and the moring talk show circut..

 

 

 

Would you believe that in '71, my buddies and I would actually drive our mini-bikes across Manhattan Beach to the gigantic TRW property near MB Blvd.& Aviation with our .22's and (shudder)........shoot jack rabbits?.....

 

 

We eventually graduated to four legged targets.... mainly the rats in the barn... We had to use shotguns for rabbits..

 

By the way Snowman... have you talked to your buddy Falcon lately?

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My dad and I had a shooting range in the basement, we shot .22's into telephone books and boxes of newspapers. No ear protection, middle of suburbia, no problems with neighbours...the good old days.

 

My dad brought home a mirror shipping crate that was made out of wood... I am guessing it was 3' X 5' X 1'. It was from Italy and kind of a work of art itself. He stood it up way far away in our back yard and refiled it with sand. Then he got some bulls eye targets and couple boxes of .22 amo and let us have at it why he sat there and superivised for the first couple of hours... after that in his mind we were good to go..

 

Do that these day and you'll be on the 5:00 PM news and the moring talk show circut..

 

 

 

Would you believe that in '71, my buddies and I would actually drive our mini-bikes across Manhattan Beach to the gigantic TRW property near MB Blvd.& Aviation with our .22's and (shudder)........shoot jack rabbits?.....

 

So you're the one who shot out the window in my Father's Corvair.

 

I still remember that day he came home from work...

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I'm from "the great northern land" we called this "bumper shining"...you stood on the edge of the street and caught on to the bumper of a passing car and skied behind it on your shoes until you fell off.

Road skiing was popular when I was young. I wont elaborate but it involved cars, riding boots, beer and doctors. And police on one memorable occasion.

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Anyone ever can cars at night by stretching fishing line across the road at bumper level with cans attached to the ends?

 

Great sport, although it helped to be able to sprint at least a hundred yards if your target turned out to be older teens or young adults.



 

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My dad and I had a shooting range in the basement, we shot .22's into telephone books and boxes of newspapers. No ear protection, middle of suburbia, no problems with neighbours...the good old days.

Really, we used to fly model helium dirigibles in our basement when we lived in Madison, WI. My dad was Air Force.

It really made you think in terms of 3D movement. and to plan ahead before making adjustments. I was about 6 or 7 yrs old.

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Funny, this is the same generation that has produced the couch potato, self absorbed idiots that populate the world today and yet their parents sit back and wonder why the world is all fucked up. It didn't happen in a vacuum, you ass carrots. If you hadn't been passed over for that Little League team position when you were little, you wouldn't be "That" parent screaming at the coach for not selecting your little ill behaved, overweight, mouth breathing monster.

 

Another item, people have been around for a few milenia, it's funny how each generation likes to think they are special for having survived in to middle age and beyond. Guess what you narcissistic buttwads, everyone before you made it too. Get over it. Get you and your kids off of the fuking couch, stop sharing your nauseating life on Facebook and do something real.

 

*The rant above is not directed at any SA'ers, just at the world in general. And get of my lawn!

 

This is POTW material!

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Used to be the team tee shirt you got to wear as a uniform was your participation award.

 

BOOM!

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EbZTyja.jpg

 

It actually all started here:

 

drspockbabybook.jpg

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My dad and I had a shooting range in the basement, we shot .22's into telephone books and boxes of newspapers. No ear protection, middle of suburbia, no problems with neighbours...the good old days.

 

My dad brought home a mirror shipping crate that was made out of wood... I am guessing it was 3' X 5' X 1'. It was from Italy and kind of a work of art itself. He stood it up way far away in our back yard and refiled it with sand. Then he got some bulls eye targets and couple boxes of .22 amo and let us have at it why he sat there and superivised for the first couple of hours... after that in his mind we were good to go..

 

Do that these day and you'll be on the 5:00 PM news and the moring talk show circut..

 

but some now aspire to be on the news...

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Road skiing was popular when I was young. I wont elaborate but it involved cars, riding boots, beer and doctors. And police on one memorable occasion.

we did "bumper hitching" behind city buses. in the winter. you could ski for hours until the driver caught you.

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It's a thread about being lucky to be alive. We were kids armed with semi automatic rifles. Not only are we lucky to have made it, so is everyone around us. :)

 

Fuck, no. We had bolt-action. I took the police firearm safety course that was held in the basement of the police station. We blew the hell out of targets using Lee-Enfields rebored for .22 load. There were dozens of us there, waving around loaded rifles, trusting as all hell.

 

dad's training for shooting groundhogs with the old cooey 22s was "don't shoot at the house, and don't shoot in the barn". he never did find out where all the holes in the fence posts came from.

 

i picked up a box of CIL whiz bangs just for nostalgia recently.

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