Playing Hooky

Yesterday, my boss, me and another colleague took the afternoon off and participated in a "team building" exercise - we went clay skeet shooting. And, despite the immense black, blue and red welt on my right bicep, I had a blast.

My boss is an avid outdoorsman, and will look for any excuse to go out and shoot; be it a bow, shotgun or pistol.

I, on the other hand....am....not. If you reread my first post, you'll know that I am a creature of climate control, exhibiting all of the physical characteristics of a Morlock. OK, perhaps that's a bit harsh, but you get the idea. It's not that I don't enjoy physical activity or that I haven't gotten my hands dirty over the years, but I am no Hemingway either (writing style and lifestyle notwithstanding).

In fact, when attempting to explain the proper technique for cradling and aiming my shotgun, my instructor Sam asked me if I had ever watched football to know how to make the "touchdown" sign - much to the unrestrained laughter of my colleagues.

But when the laughing stopped and the shooting began, I was all business. I discovered I'm actually a fairly decent shot. I also found out that I have a handicap - I shoot right-handed, but my left eye is the dominant one. This makes holding and aiming the shotgun a bit difficult. At least it was for me, hence the giant welt on my right arm.

All things considered, it was great fun and very exhilarating. I understand and appreciate a little more the allure of the outdoors and the desire of many to hunt and maintain firearms. I also got a glimpse of Pennsylvania outside of the liberal conclave of Philadelphia and its surrounding suburbs. I never once got the impression any of the residents of Coplay, PA were bitter, clinging to guns or religion - but I suspect they will if Obama ever tries to outlaw or curtail their firearm use (there was tons of NRA and anti-Obama paraphernalia in the gun club clubhouse).