Gunsmoke, fagsmoke, ale and bargains.

There's a school of thought that would suggest that introducing a young man to proficient use of firearms in one of the more major urban sprawls in the United Kingdom at the moment is one of the less desirable things a chap could spend his Saturday doing. But then people shouldn't believe so readily what they're spoonfed by redtop rag journalists. And anyway, my mission is to spread chaos and wrongthinking amongst the populace, because folks; wrongthinking means that you're actually THINKING and they don't like that. Especially on the recreational shooting issue, because that was twisted from the truth from the very start.

And so I found myself on a large range complex in the North West of England on a Saturday afternoon after a late drive over and a wine induced sleep... not an excessive one but my sleep on Thursday night was so lousy I was out like a light after two little glasses. The occasion, NRA open day; a "bring your friends, have a go" sort of thing. Desirable for me because it lets me have a crack at things I don't normally get a chance to have a crack at; Long Range bangs which go where they're supposed to if it's a 'scoped rifle, but don't if it's an original SMLE with truly awful iron sights; smokey charcoal burning bangs which I'm better with than I remember. Good for SoTWM because it gets him out of the house, away from the screens and into the fresh air; and frankly, these things that go bang are good for a young lad; don't believe the hype from the bastards, folks. Being trusted to touch things that can do serious harm to yourself and others, being trusted to be instructed in their proper use - these ideas are good for a lad's self esteem; with the right steering it brings about competitive activity and maturity, because out on the range you CANNOT mess around. Didn't do me any harm, folks. It surprised me to learn that cadets these days don't actually routinely do any live firing unless you're already range qualified, and you can't get range qualified because they don't do any live work with things that go bang... that seems insane. But anyway's digressing somewhat, and getting away from my rants, I've done a bit of this highly corrupting "introducing modern youth into the world of things that go bang" malarky before; the last attempt resulted in a competent competition shot who's looking at the Marines when he finishes uni, so don't believe the hype from the Anti's, folks. It's a damned sight better for a lad than life in front of the PS3, the Sat Box and Smirnoff Alchopops outside the cornershop with a gang of hoods. The day was something different, laddo was sensible, kept firmly within his own limits (no pushing it, like a chancer such as I would) and everyone involved enjoyed. I'd call that a success.

Which of course left me in a "mission complete" situation on the other side of the country. Where there are things to do, see and drink. Huzzah. A stomp around one of TWM's old haunts at Southport, pretty much a Mozzer town (the seaside town that they forgot to close down); it would appear from feedback that they're doing it, one part of her past at a time. That's never good. A rare treat of pie and chips at a higher quality type of tourist chippy, then back to the big town for the evening. Doctor Duncan's; Cain's main pub: one of those rarities where they are actually, completely incapable of serving a bad pint that I do not like. It's almost unheard of. Everything about the place ticks the boxes, even though the place is a bit "created", rather than my preferred "has been here for at least a hundred years" concept, but I've not has a "everyone's a winner" relationship with a brewery since the glory days of Adnams in my youth. Then a visit to the Ship and Mitre, another favourite of mine but it just brought home the fact that I was too tired for a big evening, so time to call it quits.

Oh, and the bargain bit. It's very sad when a supermarket closes down. Not as sad as it is when a corner shop closes down, after being out competed by one of the chain bastards, but it's still not a good thing; generally only the top two of Tommy Esco's and McWalmart benefit, and real people lose their jobs which always sucks. But, it does mean that Mikey benefits shamelessly, and picks up a shitload of domestic cleaning products for hardly any pounds at all, and two kilos of top brand name museli for fifty pence. That'll do!