Category Archives: Day Off

Epic “Day Off”, dragons and surgery – happy happy

In The Fugitive, Harrison Ford, at least in camera tricks, jumped off the Cheoah dam on the Eastern side of The Dragon, successfully surviving another dangerous escape. The dam is at the start of an extremely treacherous 11 mile stretch of Highway 129 in the most epically beautiful region of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Look up “the tail of the dragon” “highway 129” and you’ll see what I mean. This was part of my epic “Day Off, again.” I live in the most beautiful parish in the world.

Having to go once again up to General Surgery at the teaching hospital of the University of Tennessee, Knoxville, I was very happy to once again to slay The Dragon, twice, there and back, with brand new hug-the-road Yokahama tires on Sassy the Subaru. I have waaaay too much fun. Unlike the Cooper tires, the Yokahamas don’t sing, drifting on the curves, at all. They’re like glue on the tarmacadam.

At about mile 3.5 on The Dragon, there’s a warning sign that says “DIP”. Ain’t no lie, that. In about 25 feet it drops about 6 feet on a super-sharp curve. If you straighten the curve from outside to inside you’ll go airborne, pretty much no matter how slow you go. But don’t ever straighten any curves, especially on this road. Waaay tooo many people die because of that.

Right after this on another super-sharp curve there were two police SUVs and a wrecker, and one uninjured motorcyclist standing around, looking bewildered. Obviously, he did the right thing and jumped off his cycle as the cycle went over a cliff and down, and down, and down. Clearly, he knew how to fall when having fun, and had no fear to take the fall instead of death. That’s the first skill you have to learn, how to fall. The good thing about The Dragon is that there are zero guard-rails, or “slicers” as I call them. That’s actually to save the lives of those who fall and slide off the road while their cycles go flying.

Meanwhile, a safe arrival at the hospital parking ramp. I always take a mnemonic picture of where I am:

This is such a great hospital. Getting a tag at the front door took only seconds:

Then the registration was just a few minutes all told:

Up I went: receptionist, initial interview, then into the examination room, strip down a bit, all to have the internal and external scarring progress checked. I must say, truly, this was a great experience. Happy, happy. I’ve had a lot of bad experiences elsewhere, but everyone here was in a great mood, very respectful, all good. That speaks to great management, great teaching, great learning. Very professional. Kudos to everyone at the hospital.

Thanks for your prayers:

  • I’ve been behaving myself quite well regarding not lifting anything heavy as per doctor’s orders. I’m to keep doing that for quite a while, even months. “There’s only one good chance to heal,” she said. “If another chance is necessary, it won’t necessarily be a good chance,” she said. “Behave yourself,” she said. “Yes, ma’am! I said. :-)
  • But I had a question: “Why is there deep weirdness, like a couple of inches deep, into the lower-inside right-thigh quadriceps (opposite side of the surgery), kind’a like an onset of paralysis above the knee?” No comment on that, especially because the surgery was left-side abdomen. I get why there was no answer. If it has to do with the epidural between L-3 and L-4, that’s a completely different medical group, nothing to do with the surgeons. I get that. All good. So, that’s a wait and see how it goes event.
  • I was told to expect, coming up, the possibility of very sharp bolts of pain from the abdomen down into the left leg, down to the knee. I’m happy to be forewarned of a mere possibility. I thrive on too much instead of not enough knowledge, and I was humored. Happy-happy.
  • Along those lines, she gave me the reasoning for the opportunistic rampage of the trauma of the surgery on neighboring organs. She gave me excellent advice on how to deal with this rampage of the trauma. Perfect. But this is another wait and see how it goes event. This might bring on other surgeries. Last night was… how to say?… difficult. But we’ll see. She invited me to make another appointment and just cancel if necessary, but I didn’t take that opportunity, wanting to be optimistic.
  • Finally, as long as I was already cut open (and this is a benefit of open surgery vs laparoscopic), two tumors, one fibrous and the other insanely cell-multiplying, quite a bit larger than what might otherwise be seen, were successfully excised. I love that altogether. Go in for one thing and have others, unknown to have existed, now already fixed. Can’t get better than that. I’m so happy to have opted for the epidural over against general anesthesia.

Thanks to all doctors, nurses, office staff. As I say, they were all happy, respectful, professional, great attitudes, are actually interested in the patient. That goes a long way with me. An epic “Day Off”.

And then, the best part of all, was the nice lady who takes $3.00 for the parking ramp on the way out. She asked how I was. I said I was really doing well, that at my post-op visit just now I was told that two tumors no one knew were there were taken out successfully, besides the surgery I had gone in for also being successful. She was so happy for me, saying that that made here day, and that therefore the $3.00 fee was on her. I thanked her also for that wonderful moment of shared joy. That was a perfect gift for my journey back to slay The Dragon one more time. Happy happy.


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Epic “Day Off” slaying the dragon twice

This was now my second visit to the University of Tennessee Medical Center in Knoxville, this time to plot with the anesthesiologists on the far side of the campus just how this is going to work out given some hereditary conditions. It went very well. I’m very impressed. They’re very well organized. This is a teaching hospital, which means that the resident remembered accurately what he had read about my most obscure and rare condition. Kudos to him. Great.

Meanwhile, I always take a mnemonic picture, which I didn’t need anyway. But just in case.

Slaying “The Dragon” was especially fun on the way up, as I got behind a red Porsche with a super loud muffler and an altogether outrageous license plate message, perhaps a large shareholder of the company. He was going out of his way to be very loud and altogether too fast, but I was able to keep up with him for part of the way, the most curvy bits. Great entertainment. I slowed down when I saw a cop on the side. No need. I wasn’t even going the speed limit. Can anyone do the speed limit while slaying The Dragon? I’m guessing that’s impossible. The cops aren’t there to give out tickets, but rather to direct traffic when inevitable accidents occur. Meanwhile, I’m the luckiest priest in the world. This is truly paradise on earth.

Meanwhile, I fully realize that when I’m having waaaay toooo much fun, that’s when disaster strikes. But that’s when Saint Paul (Romans 8:28) says:

  • “All things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.”

Saint Teresa of Avila complained that she felt awkward when all things were going well. Did she displease the good Lord, you know, what with all things going well? I get that.

Maybe I’m just thinking what could happen with the surgery. Meanwhile, it doesn’t matter what happens. It’s all good, just like Saint Paul says.


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100 times as many… and…

Yesterday, after Holy Mass up in Graham County, still attempting to recover from the epic “Day Off” at U.T. Med. Center in Knoxville, more doctor’s orders came my way: “Go ahead, Father, it does a soul good to get out on the water. Duc in altum!” That’s all the encouragement I needed. This is a yearly event with a number of pontooners in the parish. I’m thinking this is good with Jesus, as he spoke about it:

  • “No one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for My sake and for the gospel will fail to receive a hundredfold in the present age—houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and fields, along with persecutions—and in the age to come, eternal life.” (Mark 10:29-30)

Let’s see:

The dam in the slideshow above is about 100 years old, with sirens to the sides that are at the ready for when the dam fails. Myths include divers of the TVA inspecting the cavernous hole at the bottom, only to vow never to go down again, having seen the massive carp lurking there, “able to swallow a car”.

I look forward to seeing the Osprey nest every year. This year there were two. I grew up with Ospreys. Here’s a picture someone took who knows where:

In Minnesota, water everywhere, just glancing out a window one is likely to see an osprey sitting in a branch of a dead tree high above whatever body of water. As a kid growing up in Minnesota, frequently spotting an osprey, scanning their usual perches, I’d watch for a moment and, sure enough, he would drop down, grabbing a fish, circle back up to his perch, and start eating.

Some ospreys are also good at long range infiltration, getting the job done, and exfiltration:

That’s not an out-of-place video in this post, as the pontooners are as Military as you can get. And pretty much everyone in Graham County is a veteran. And… and… afterward we attended a get-together of the “town”, a cook-out, put on by the locals with all the law enforcement and fire department and EMS invited. Most of them are, of course, ex-military as well. They, of course, had to advertise their arrival to this entire region of the state, with sound travelling far and wide across the waters, with all sirens blaring.

If you take a look at that top picture again, that far, far mountain… on the far side of that 4 miles down the other side lies Andrews where the “main” church of the parish is situated.

Back to Jesus’ instruction, you know, that bit about “with persecutions”… The 100 times crowd in this parish is fully aware of that, all good with that. However much of a paradise that is here, our eyes are pealed on the heavens, eternal life, into which Jesus ascended to our dear Heavenly Father. Our Father


Filed under Day Off, Priesthood, Vocations

Epic “Day Off”: (1) Drag-Queens; (2) Dragon’s Tail; (3) CATI “Dragon” Body Armor

The other day was the epic “Day Off”. There were actually a lot of people to the right and left of me logistically up in the waiting room of General Surgery of the University of Tennessee Medical Center Teaching Hospital, but all to the right with me in perspective. This time I was there not to give Last Rites, but with myself as the patient for various pre-op conversations.

There were forms to fill out with the usual questions about past operations, present complaints, family medical history, etc. One of them was on race, which is actually medical, as this can bring in factors of sickle cell anemia which will have sufferers much more frequently of one race than another.

But another question was on ethnicity, so I asked the other patients out loud what that was about. I’m so bad and evil. The whole room unanimously erupted in complaints about that question on the form, wondering what was meant. I mean, I get that too, like Kosher food in post-op recovery or some such. But no one was thinking about that, and pointed me to the next questions about transgender, etc. They were apoplectic, wondering what such wokista rubbish could be about. But, I get that too. If you want to take care of, say, an inguinal hernia going the wrong way south, a specifically male difficulty, and the patient insists he is not male, well, Houston, we have a problem. “Puff the magic drag-on,” and all that.

Letting people vent their frustrations about the wokista anti-culture was part of my entertainment for the “Day Off”. That was great — but even better, being a devotee of Saint George the Dragon Slayer — was slaying The Dragon, twice, on the way from my parish in WNC to Knoxville TN, and then again on the way back.

The picture above was taken just feet before The Dragon begins on the northwest side. 318 curves in 11 miles. Being in a peaceful mood, I didn’t make the tires sing with “drifting” melodies on all 318 curves as I’ve done before (I think I missed out on just one). This time only one “drifting” sing-song of squealing tires was to be heard. But it was all most enjoyable.

Then, arriving home, a pair of dragons, this time from CATI armor, one being a “swim” cut for the front and the traditional SAPI cut for the back:

Thin. Fairly lightweight for what they do. Concealable. These work with a carrier I already have for any law enforcement chaplaincy work.

For those offended by the snake headed logo for the CATI body armor, know this:

  • The Lord Jesus described the irony of the perfect justice by which He redeems and and saves us, that is, by coming to us in the very image of the one who put us all to death in original sin, the first Adam, deceived by Satan, the ancient serpent, the great dragon, so that having taken on the punishment we deserve for sin, He would have the right in His own justice to have mercy on us, His wounds from Satan making His mercy credible, majestic.
  • “No one has ever gone into heaven except the One who came from heaven—the Son of Man. Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in Him.” For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life. (Jn 3:13-16).

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Epic Day Off (epically quiet)

A five hour round trip. The bacon and eggs alone were worth the trip. Eggs are my kryptonite, weakening my whole being. I could hardly walk this morning, but that wears off. Tendons for some reason don’t get along with an egg diet. I just gotta learn how to say no. But it’s all so good.

Meanwhile, I had brought down the other side of the Prince of Peace Church sign. Some progress in colors are being made. We tried out the high-gloss metallic gold on the cross (that will be very bright in headlights reflection at night) and the white on “C” of Catholic, so far, and renewed silver on the “P” of Prince, so far:

The projected blue that we’ll be using will highlight the lettering and cross all the more.

It will take until next week to pick up and then put up both of those signs at the church up in Robbinsville. We’re not trying to hide from “Jane’s Revenge” or anyone else. Here we are! Come join us! Meet the Lord Jesus!

Meanwhile, some hours were spent in an epically quiet conversation which, of course, solved all the problems of the Church and the world, as one is want to do with friends. This was one of the “good old days.” It struck me that this was a gifted calm before the storm. Thank you, Jesus.

People tell me that that’s a really long way to travel. Yes, well, it gives me time to say Rosaries, to mull over the Sacred Mysteries as the most beautiful windy labyrinth of mountain roads are (as always) freshly discovered. After all, it’s a Day Off, and it’s made the most epic by the Sacred Mysteries.

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Opening day of a life of sadness

The other day – the “Day Off” – the traffic jam on the interstate was mentioned with the dozens of emergency vehicles with so many trailers of search and rescue rafts going by. The above picture I took shows just one of those trailers racing by in the breakdown lane with three of those rafts. There were at least 15 rafts coming from – I thought – as far away as the other part of the State, Winston-Salem, but I was told yesterday that they came from as far away as the Atlantic coast. You can read the road sign. I think it said that it was still 15 miles to Canton. I never did see any accident, and only found out the next day that this was no traffic accident, say, over a bridge, but rather a flooding catastrophe of the town of Canton. The town was flooded. The residences were flooded.

One story I heard was of a woman floating through town in her trailer-home, going about four streets downstream until she hit a tree, hard. Another story, so sad… so very sad… recounted by the wife… said that her husband, a special ops military guy in superb physical shape, sitting in the passenger seat of the car, got smacked hard in the head in the chaos and wound up outside the vehicle, still not found in the ravaging waters. Hail Mary…

The angels were at work with impossible coincidences, and I was able to deliver a load of food from the Joe El-Khouri Mercy Outreach of our little parish here in Andrews to Grace Community Church on scene. I had an EMT as navigator. Without him, I never would have found the tucked away little church which was super busy with relief efforts. God bless them.

There were, as of yesterday afternoon, two dead and twenty-six missing, two days later… That’s a huge blow to this village. They have no gymnasium or makeshift shelters to go to. FEMA can’t come in until the rescue effort is finished. That will be quite a while yet. With waters receding and people wanting to get what they can from any upper level of their homes, another priority is to educate about the deadly black mold which starts to grow almost immediately.

Hail Mary…


Filed under Day Off, Death

Day Off Road Danger

Fredo the Hurricane, Tropical Storm, Rain-Cloud weather system visited us yesterday. Escaping flooding at the rectory I chased off at 6:00 AM to go to a doctor’s appointment in Brevard. I did do up that medical appointment, and then saw a doctor of the soul, a priest, and was able to go to Confession some town away from there (which I try to do weekly, the best way to go to heaven).

  • Within minutes of leaving the rectory, zipping through the Nantahala Gorge, there were three downed trees over that river road, already cut away as people travel with chain saws for this reason on super-rainy days. I myself have cut away fully seven trees over the highway in my times in the parish here. Yesterday, one of the trees in particular looked to have been hit by a vehicle, a likely event on the blind-cliff-edge-curves at night with pouring rain.
  • Getting out on the Smoky Mountain Expressway, there were early morning accidents, but already being attended.
  • On the way back, there was a parking lot experience for many hours on Interstate 40. Old style manual shift on steep hills for hours of a traffic jam is… interesting. Dozens of emergency vehicles passed by on the breakdown down lane and using the central median. In the mayhem, a fire engine suffered a broken axel and was left behind. There were, I’m guessing, some 15 rescue rafts being hauled to whatever scene by emergency vehicles. Plenty of ambulances, State Troopers… I hate to image what happened with that…
  • Meanwhile, I passed over some mud from two side by side landslides that had crashed up to Interstate 40 but without leaving dangerous debris – for the seconds I passed by – but then a couple minutes later an emergency alert came over the phone telling people not to use the breakdown lane, as that had to be kept free for emergency vehicles, as a landslide just at that spot just then had totally compromised the highway. We had been moving along with no one in the breakdown lane at all. A highway stopping landslide had taken place, I guess, seconds after I had just passed by.
  • Not long after that – and I just missed seeing this accident by literally a second – I came upon a pickup truck crashed out right in the middle of the interstate. It had slid hard into the concrete barriers, twice, and bounced back onto the highway. Smoke coming from the windows made me think the worst as I ran to them, but the smoke was not smoke at all. It was clouds of deployed air-bag dust. I saw they were alive, though rather stunned, and then collected their front and back bumpers on the highway – as that large debris surely would have caused more accidents – throwing, then, the bumpers into the bed of their truck. Waving traffic away and asking one guy who actually slowed down to call 911, I got their truck off the highway. I told them that their engine was gushing oil and they couldn’t drive any further. One other guy stopped to help. There are good people, but so many hardly slowed down in super dangerous conditions with many people walking on the highway itself. Sad, that.
  • Finally, getting back to the last stretch going through the Nantahala Gorge again…. nope. A landslide had crashed over the highway in the Gorge. That would have happened not long after I had passed through that morning, as there was about a quarter mile of barrels and back-lit information signs and backlit arrow signs and more upright barriers barring access to the Gorge. Those take time to put up. The detour was put on the other side of the mountain chain, in the neighboring county.
  • Finally, finally, getting home… uh oh… my own street was blocked because of the rushing overflowing flood waters of the Town Branch, which is the border of the lot of the rectory. “Town Branch” would better be named “Town Torrent.” But that had receded a bit and I was able to get into the driveway, and then sit for a time with the neighborhood that had gathered on the porch of the next door neighbor’s house.

The best road I was on yesterday was the road to heaven, what with going to Confession and all. Jesus is the Way, the Only Way. And the priestly conversation after was spectacular. And “Days Off” are always an adventure.


Filed under Confession, Day Off, Road danger

Day Off: Confession. Way too much fun.

In these days of idiot political lockdowns trying to scare good Americans it’s important to get out in nature, do up some wholesome recreation, see friends, go to Confession. Find a way to do these things if you can. Make a concerted effort. Get friends to help you if need be. Friends are always good to be friends with. :-)

The other day brought yours truly all over North Carolina, with a very late start to the day because of black ice in this furthest-west mountainous part of the state. There were four stops to be made. The first was logistic, the second provided a “flower for the Immaculate Conception” (more on that later), the third was for Confession (thank you, Jesus!), the fourth was… (more on that below).

Meanwhile, outside of the “four lane” as the locals call the interstate system, Sassy the Subaru bounced the curves of over 100 miles of extreme mountain roads. The steering wheel often went fully 90゚or 180゚and more in one direction and instantly in the other, back and forth, making the car actually bounce the suspension. Waaay tooo much fun for this priest. Thank you, Jesus!

Back to the fourth stop. I had been invited to use a private range during the last moments of daylight. I was hoping I would be able to do that as I had a new magazine of a type never used in my Glock previously. I really had to put out some rounds out in order to trust its mechanics and to see what would happen to any would-be flip. Because there is no ammo to be had which isn’t four weeks out and four times the price, target practice is pretty much otherwise out of the question. But this was necessary.

Result: I totally couldn’t believe it. I’ve been beating myself up in this time of Wuhan idiocy, thinking that surely I’m not a natural at gunslingery and therefore the fundamentals and the accuracy and speed would have degraded somewhat with little to no practice. But his wasn’t the case at all. Not. At. All.

Single shots from a locked holster 25 feet out were under time and dead-on for the pre-2001 Federal Air Marshal course (and using a much smaller target). I only did a few of these as there was obviously no need to do more. Great! Best I’ve ever shot, especially cold barrel. Single shots and double taps with the new and weird magazine were also dead on. I emptied that magazine as I had to see if the spring would work the whole way though. All good. That put a smile on my face. That kind of experience to be had a myriad wholesome ways is important. Think of some and do them up in what ways you can.

There was no time for pictures. Just time for the Angelus, and then racing the roads. So, the top pic is from years ago, two overlapping Folgers Breakfast Blend plastic tops (depicting a hostage situation). The idea back in the day was to spin around 30 feet out and instantly take the shot, only hitting – ever – the plastic cover in the back representing the head of the perp (to the left in the pic), entirely avoiding the overlapping cover representing the head of the hostage (to the right in the pic). I must have gotten some muscle memory that day. I remember it well, in detail. Something like 450 rounds without missing even once.

The few rounds I put out on the Day Off the other day were a great recreation, getting me out in nature, and the speed and accuracy gave me some confidence. Over confidence would be bad, and there were two traffic events yesterday, right at the start and right at the end, which had me develop some situational awareness, a hoot altogether. I had to laugh out loud at both. More on that… later.

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The Day Off was like a week, and it ain’t over yet…

The Day Off started last Saturday with phone calls coming in over other calls all in the middle of The-Priest-Sprint® that runs, so to speak, from about 4:00 AM Saturday morning until Sunday night when I collapse, having gotten up at 2:00 AM on Sunday. Those calls were weighing on me when texts came in with a request that would require bilocation all day on the Day Off. But I ain’t no Padre Pio. Ain’t gonna happen. I had to put that off for another Day Off, having found out that I had already been volunteered by higher-ups to make an intervention that would clock something between 500 and 600 miles on Sassy the Subaru on the Day Off. I haven’t yet recovered from that, with yet more phone calls requiring follow-ups for analogous situations. The Day Off started at 1:45 AM and didn’t stop until something like just before 10:00 PM.

The days are running together with The-Priest-Sprint® continuing more than just the weekend. Time runs together, melts into one time when past is future, future is past, a blur in the midst of the present. All a bit surreal. But then, the good Lord holds all time in His hands as just another creation of His. He was born in time that we might be borne up through, with and in Him into eternity. He was born to die that we might live. He was born upon the wood of the manger that when He would be lifted up on the wood of the cross He might, as He said, draw all to Himself, to heaven, but, on Calvary, right through all of hell broken out. He conquered the violence of Herod at His birth in Bethlehem. He conquered the violence of hell at our birth to life on Calvary. The disparateness of time is brought together in His Heart. And it is with His Heart that we find the Immaculate Heart of His dear Immaculate Virgin Mother. Thank you Jesus. Thank you Mary.


Filed under Christmas, Day Off, Time

Fr George critiques shooting skills of el Sicario for new American gun owners

There’s millions of new American gun owners in just this past year. I’m wondering how many are practiced up, how many pay attention to stupid representations of gun skills such as we see in the Sicario films. Mind you, I haven’t seen those films, just some YouTube clips. But with that little exposure even I, also a fairly new first time gun owner (Glock 19), know that what happens above should not be imitated by anyone ever, not only the extra-judicial “justice” wrought by our Sicario friend, but also his grip. He’s held up as being the best of the best, but if you take lessons in, say, how to grip a pistol from him, you will die the first time you try to defend yourself or others, say, in a church setting, from unprovoked, mortal aggression being actively delivered against the innocent by a mass shooter, so to speak. No offence to you, Benicio del Toro, sir! I’m guessing that you’ll agree with me that your advisers on gun use baited you into doing stupid things.

If you follow the fiction of the film above, you’ll get off your first shot, sure, maybe even on target (I doubt it), but because of the stupid grip pictured in that “front picture” chosen for the video above, you’ll not be able to get off a second shot before you are shot yourself. Your gun will jam, no matter what. It makes me think that our Sicario friend has never shot a pistol in his life. Notice the thumb of the weak hand pressed super-tightly against the slide? That cannot work in real life. Cannot. In fact, in the last two seconds of that video above, when he takes out the cartel boss, you see that his thumb is pressed hard against the slide, and the slide only slightly and slowly moves back, like 1/2 inch. If it was like that for the first shot of el Sicario against the wife of the cartel boss in the video above, the gun would have jammed, the boys would still be alive and the boss man would have shot our Sicario guy quite dead. The slide has to be completely free to slide, not only to eject the used casing, but to load up the next round. Don’t be the thumb on the slide guy.

Even worse, don’t be the guy who takes advice from cool special ops guys who condescend to tell you stuff while downing beers and thinking you’ll never be in a situation to use the information anyway, and so they are not careful about what they say about scenario usage. For instance, in the video below get a load of this most stupid use of a pistol that may have come from mis-taught or misinterpreted but otherwise in any other situation good training. It’s looks cool because in the situation its use is super sarcastic and likewise condescending. But this is all going to make for the death of the shooter when he runs out of bullets before even once hitting his target even at point blank range. Shooting with the mistakes that are made by our Sicario friend will mean that you won’t be able to hit the broadside of a barn from inside the barn. Watch the insane gun-flip and where oh where the strong hand trigger finger goes:

It’s not because there’s anything wrong with this style of shooting. It’s because he himself gets a number of things totally wrong.

  • Know that in real life, in an immediate justified defense of the innocent from an active shooter actively killing people, you’re not going to have time to use two hands in this clumsy fashion. No.
  • Know that your strong hand trigger finger shouldn’t be on the slide like el Sicario. That’s going to inhibit the slide when the pistol is fired by the other hand, meaning the first shot will fire (likely off target), but that the gun will jam before you even get to the second shot. And you’ll be shot before you clear that and load up again. El Sicario tries not to hold that strong hand trigger finger hard against the slide, but it is belted around as the gun is fired, so that it’s hard pressed against the slide, or not. But it’s all wild. There is no muscle memory for the trigger finger of the strong hand to be on the slide…
  • Know that your normal trigger finger is going to “get nervous” and start curling under the slide to get in the trigger well where it normally is when firing a gun, in this case, interfering with the other trigger finger already there. That’s what happens above to el Sicario. That makes for zero hits.
  • Know that you have almost zero grip on the gun with just three “weak” fingers on the grip because you have your normal trigger index finger on the slide. Bad, that. This makes for insane flip, and that’s exactly what happens to el Sicario above. Don’t use this style of shooting unless you must.

So, why would this style of shooting ever be used?

Because when you lift up to aim at someone, your hands on your gun are center-x for the bad actor. Injuries, say, to your strong hand trigger finger are not uncommon because of this. So, yes, this is a legitimate exercise for which to practice a bit, with the strong hand thumb and three weak fingers holding the grip of the gun, but with the strong hand trigger finger curled up against the grip, not on the slide or messing with the trigger well. The video directly above is one of the worst examples of gun-slingerry in the entire history of Hollywood. Don’t follow that bad example, but go ahead and practice this the right way.

For your very first practice mag-dump you might get something like what I did the other day just for fun, but likely better, putting out 15+1 shots from my terribly hard-pull, grindy-trigger Glock. I tried this as fast as I could get the trigger pushed with a weak hand finger. This is not bump-firing. No. You are pushing clumsily from the side of whatever finger of the weak hand (the side bit being a stabilizing factor). El Sicario does this with the gun pushed up to the palm of the weak hand, a good idea – I didn’t do that – but he does this with the wrong angle, causing wildly off target results. You want that weak trigger finger to be perpendicular to the trigger, not at any angle at all. I made that mistake as well the first mag-dump over against a 7″ foam pie plate.

You’ll notice that most all hits are left of center. That’s because of being pulled to the side by a weak hand finger over the trigger at the wrong angle. That’s so very correctable. You’ll also notice that this was at point-blank range, something like under ten feet. Can you see the powder swirl burns on the foam plate?

Warning! Don’t try this at any range other than a private range (against soft dirt, no rocks or wood…), a range that belongs to you or a friend. Otherwise you’ll be not so politely asked to never come back. This was done at a private range.

So, why would a priest who is a newbie to the gun world have such an interest as to know such things?

Is it because of his desire to be available to chaplaining for law enforcement wherever 2a is respected? Sure.

Is it because of wanting to be available to assist those who provide church security with enhanced capacities if they decide totally on their own and never mandated by the church to carry a tool that might assist in shutting down a deadly and being delivered threat? Sure. That’s it.

The diocese encourages us to have security teams. And I think that all priests should be good guard-donkeys for the sheep of Jesus’ little flock, whatever tools they can use effectively:

Donkeys were always with the Holy Family, and not just to carry around the Holy Family and their provisions. It was also for the protection of the Holy Family from the wolves (that being a young red wolf above).

Where do I get time to do this?

  • This was just some seconds on the day off, which is never a day off anyway. I didn’t do much more than this as ammo is scarce. I had lots of priest-stuff to do on the day off.
  • Recreation is also important for priests. Seriously. It’s all good when skill set capacities are honed as an enjoyable recreation, even if it’s only for just a moment.
  • In writing this, I’m also on a day off, but this day off is being used for another of important things in priestly ministry, discerning, praying.

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