occupied my entire day yesterday in our little club, holding its usual once-a-month guest day session. Twelve times a year we are permitted by the gubmint to have friends, co-workers, neighbours and non-shooting relatives along for the day so that they can - a. See what we get up to when we sneak out of the house dressed like people who are off shooting, and b. See what great fun it all is after all the c*ap they've been told about it. c. See that people who go shooting are just people like they are, not some kind of pathological mouth-foaming wannabe Rambo. This time I took my Ruger Old Army - a birthday gift to myself back in 1986 - and a LOAD of ball and conicals, a pound and a bit more of Swiss FFFg and all the doin's, and set up in the adjacent 25m range with a few interested folks, all but one of whom had never actually HELD any kind of handgun in their lives, let alone shoot one. After a brief but intense safety session, we got on with it, and, as usual every person there left with a grin that was slow in fading away... One girl was just ten years old, and the oldest was an eighty-two-year old - neither of them had ever touched a live-firing firearm in their lives, until then. I, who started at age six, felt sooooooo sorry for them both. I was whacked out by the end of the day - my ROA had been used to shoot over 220 ball and conical [for the brave] and my powder cache had gone down perceptibly. We were all pretty grubby and a trifle whiffy, too, but what the heck - twenty-something people had all done something they never thought they'd do, in perfect safety, and had a great time doing it. To a man/woman/youngster they all want to do it again. Result! tac PS - Thanks to Joe for taking the trouble to set this site up so that I can post again.