Every summer, our company sponsors an "outing," to go do something fun. Last year was a baseball game, but this year the votes elected trapshooting as the event of choice. Enough shotguns were rounded up, and we took off an hour early and drove out to the shooting range. I've never fired a gun before. I was actually kinda nervous, because I've always thought guns were a bit scary. Toy guns, like toy monsters, aren't nearly as scary as the real thing, but I've never really been close to a real, loaded gun. Today, I got to pick one up, load the shell and flip off the safety, put it to my shoulder, and yell "PULL!"
I blame Nintendo. All those old video consoles had guns and shooting games. I was never that great, but they taught me the concept.
I blame photography. I can stop a speeding motorcycle in place, after much practice leading the target, and learning to press the shutter release light enough so as not to throw off my aim.
I blame my brother's BB gun, and the BB guns of friends in gradeschool. "You're lifting the gun when you pull the trigger; hold it steady," one friend told me.
Today, I fired a gun for the first time. Actually, I fired it 50 times, in two rounds of 25 shots each. In the first round, I hit 16 of the 25 clay pigeons, beating my competition (also beginners) by a wide, wide margin. In the second, I hit 17 of my targets, tying an avid hunter for the best score.
