What's Right With America?

I recently read a book called "The Progress Paradox: Why Everything is Getting Better But People Feel Worse" by Gregg Easterbrook

The book sets forth some pretty compelling measurements of "well being" or things that prove our lives are better than our forebears, in pretty much every aspect of life; material wealth, safety, education, healthcare, quality of life for the aged, and so on.  And Mr. Easterbrook also poses some probable explanations for why all these things are better than they were, but people still tend to get depressed more often than they used to, or why more people report that they are "not happy" than there used to be.

I enjoyed the book immensely, and had to agree with the author on most counts: most aspects of life really are better than they have ever been in the history of humanity.

However, on one point I do not agree.  The author claims that we enjoy more personal freedoms than previous generations have done.  I find that exceedingly hard to believe when favorite shooting ranges, swimming holes, camping spots and other recreational relaxation venues are now closed to the public or inaccessible due to expanding population and other controls that prevent the use thereof.  I cannot let my children walk 1 mile to the gas station to buy gum or candy, because they are in danger of multitudes of things, dangers that simply did not exist when I was a child their age.  I enjoyed the personal freedom of walking, triking, big-wheeling, biking (whatever) a mile down to the local convenience store to buy whatever I could earn enough money to buy.  My children will never know that freedom.  As a cub scout, and later boy scout, I enjoyed the freedom of riding in the back of a pickup truck while carrying out local in-the neighborhood projects, letting our feet dangle out the back, or standing up behind the cab.  Yes those things entail personal risk as well, but I am certain that my children will never experience them.  Back when things weren't so crowded, a young boy could find the edge of civilization within a bike ride's distance and was free to discover whatever he could there.  In order to live that close to the edge of civilization now, parents must commute an hour or more to work, losing 2 hours every day to mindless prattle from radio DJ's, NPR, or The Glenn Beck Show (a little better than the other two, but still a waste of time).

Speaking of Glenn Beck, he did relate some information the other day to this effect, that things in America are really quite good, and we really don't want any more government institutions mucking it up.  Here's the story: http://www.glennbeck.com/content/articles/article/198/11825/

Of All The Places You Can Get Sunburned...

I think I prefer the top of one's head. It rarely comes in contact with anything, except the morning brush.

We went to Starvation Reservoir for Father's Day Weekend and beach camped (for which there are a dwindling number of destinations).


We of course had tons of fun, and yes, the thinning hair on the top of my head caused me to forget that I needed to sunscreen that, and I did get burned on the old helmet.

Gallon Jugs Beware!

I recently acquired a .308 caliber heavy barrel Panther and am in the process of getting my ballistics compensator dialed in for the ammo I use. 

1. The process goes like this: sight in at 100 yards
2. Shoot a target at 300 yards
3. Measure the ballistic drop (distance in inches the bullet hit below the aimpoint)
4. Use a ballistic table to get the logarithmic drop formula
5. Replace elevation knob with pre-engraved ballistic drop compensator or replace with a custom compensator, marked according to the formula.
6. Set out water filled gallon jugs at 300, 400, 500, and 600 yards
7. Proceed to pick them off with great explosive splashes.
8. Ponder in amazement how small a gallon jug actually appears at 300, 400, 500, and 600 yards away.  (For reference, take a pin and stick it in a wall, move away from the wall about 10 paces, the size of the pinhead is comparable to what a gallon jug will look like at 500 yards.)

So I can say without reservation that the gallon jugs of the world should take care they don't get on my wrong side, because wherever they are, I can turn them into a wet splotch and some shredded plastic before I am even a distinguishable mark on the horizon.