Running through the jungle with my M-14, I'm a mean mother- fucker, I'm a U.S. Marine!

It continues forever. A running song from back in boot camp. I suppose it came to me as I was considering getting the civilian version of that heavy old military rifle. A couple years into my service the beast was replaced by the M-16, the lightweight plastic .22 rifle that it took another five or six years to make reliable. Still and all, when a rifle is carried a whole lot and fired very seldom, it made sense. No, I didn't buy the rifle - I stopped by the gun shop and handled it a little and all the badness came rushing back. All the hours and days and weeks spent disassembling and cleaning, all the miles marching and running with it. And the fact that even civilianized, it is basically a military rifle and nostalgia is not a good enough reason to spend the huge bucks the manufacturer wants for one of those things.

I did buy one of these. It's a CZ small bolt action rifle in .223 Remington. No scope yet, but that's coming. It should be good for 3" groups at 200 yards - not a target rifle, but not bad for being as short and light as it is. And pretty. Actually, I bought it because it's pretty.

The model up there is an old friend, but is sorta touchy about her name being mentioned, so I won't.