A Dream Fulfilled

Photo Credit: SkyePuppy's Mom

This is me with my late grandfather's .45 semiautomatic, fulfilling one of my goals in life.

Back in March, I gave my readers the opportunity to name three things they always wanted to do but hadn't tried yet. My first thing was this:

1. Somebody (who I have reason to believe would know) once told me that if you take a one-gallon paint can, fill it with water, put the lid on nice and snug, and then shoot it with a .45, the force of the bullet will make the water come out the top of the paint can in a plume with the lid dancing on top. I don't just want to see that happen. I want to make that happen myself.

Since I've been in Texas at my mom's house this week, we've been painting her master bedroom (more on that later), which of course results in empty paint cans. So tonight, we took two one-gallon cans and a quart can, and my brother-in-law threw in a can of shaving cream for fun, and we headed out to the shooting range he and his brother have set up on their family property.

My mom used my camera to get pictures of me, and my sister used her camera to get videos of the targets. My brother-in-law got the gun ready, then I took a practice shot at the paper target just to be sure I could hit what I was aiming at. I could.

I fired at the first paint can, aiming at a rectangle on the label. The bullet hit just below the lid, ruptured the can, which leaked milky-white water, but didn't dislodge the lid. My brother-in-law switched the clip to another one with "nastier" bullets (I believe they were hollow points).

I aimed at the center of the second can and fired. This time the lid was blown twenty feet in the air, and it came down over to my right. There was a splashing sound as the water fell to the ground around the paint can. It was beautiful. But the pictures of the can don't do the moment justice, because all they show is a neat, round hole in the front of a white paint can without a lid.

After the two cans, my brother-in-law placed the shaving cream can on the fence (the paint cans were on the ground), and I aimed a little low, since the other two bullets had gone high of my intended spot. This time I hit my spot, and the bullet sent the can spinning end-over-end toward me, spewing shaving cream all over the place, including onto my jeans. It was great!

We saved the quart paint can for my brother-in-law, who used his new rifle (also a .45) with some bullets that were about two inches long, including the casing. The poor can didn't have a chance. It shredded, sending the lid flying, and landed on its side in a small splash of water.

Family. Guns. Fun targets. I'm telling you, life doesn't get much better than this.