ahhh...taking the day off from work today. woke up at my usual time of 4:45 and discovered that my allergies had spent the night KICKING MY ASS. i reset my alarm for 6:00, then 7:00. shortly before 8 i knew i had to call in sick. lots of snot and coughing. yummie.
but, true to my nature, i can't sit still and chill. so, i've decided to dispose of my old .22 ammunition. i haven't shot my rifle (shut up, APJ) since 2000 and the bullets have been sitting and growing old for as long.
now, when you use google to look for disposal means in and around the 'No nothing shows up. no private outfits, no government contractors. only one website (from the east coast) had any advice at all. to wit: call the cops! so, i did.
yes, the police are the ones to call. they even make house calls. i was given two choices: drop the unwanted ammo off at the nearest station or request a drive-by (so to speak). the dispatcher told me the second option was best, because it's not always so easy to find a uniform at the subdivision stations (plus, they get to snoop around my pad and give me impersonal glares like they know where i keep the kilo of hash, the dead bodies and the illegal immigrants).
and here i wait for fresno's finest to come and service me (shutUP, APJ!).
after that i think i shall make a decision on what to do with the rifle. i have been wrestling with the idea of ridding myself of the weapon for a few years now. it's not a matter of not wanting a weapon in my house. no children live with me, i am not a mean drinker, the rifle has a lock mechanism in place and i don't even know where the bullet clips are anymore. pretty safe all around. but if i am not going to touch it again except to periodically take it out and oil it up (i'm WARNING you, APJ, one more time...to the moon!) then it's just silly baggage to cling to.
i've thought of selling it. in fact, i almost did once. fortunately, i had second thoughts about selling anything to hillbillies. i mean, i wouldn't mind getting a bit of money for it since i did spend money to get it in the first place. but i can't guarantee that the rifle would stay a safely cared-for piece. perhaps, i'll just hand it to the police today when they come by. i know they'll dispose of it properly. i don't think they resell weapons anymore (they did once upon a time if my memory isn't faulty).
i think i actually held on to the rifle for as long as i have, because of the responses i got from friends upon finding out i owned it. i am not a gun guy. never have been. but watching people's brains twist just a bit as they tried to digest this anamolous twig of information and square it with my personality was entertaining. shock value, i guess. now, it's just a reminder of a crazy time in my life that, while fun, was dangerous and stupid.
i think it's time to let this reminder of that time go. memories will suffice. and if they don't...there's always kowboi.
update: found the clip. it was nestled in with the rifle in its case, unloaded and apparently broken.