I have many firearms, one of each of the handguns I carried in my career (a surprising number), my skeet guns, trap guns, Cowboy Action guns, hunting guns, a few heirlooms, and a few more that I just like. My latest acquisition was a .338 Magnum which I of course had to buy upon learning my son is being stationed in Alaska this fall. (How did my grandfather get along with just one 10-gauge shotgun and one .22 rifle?) But I confess right here on the Colt Forum, I don't own a 1911.
Mrs. Greener and I generally agree that I have all the guns I NEED. But that has nothing to do with WANT, and that's where the trouble usually starts. It started right here on the Colt Forum, like a minor itch, hardly noticeable, really. Skimming through the posts, catching a glimpse of words like "Defender" and "Ultra Compact ", and then there were photos, oh those wonderful photos! My pulse quickened, my vision sharpened as my fingers flew over the keyboard, searching for more information on the heretofore unknown to me little Colt 1911. Visits to the manufacturer 's page, the gun auctions, and anywhere else I could find out more about the intriguing little gem. I knew it was serious when I started blanking the screen whenever Mrs. Greener came near (kind of like what I do when looking at emails sent to me by an old service buddy who is a porn aficionado ). There is an emptiness that cries out to be filled. As Janis Joplin said," I must make amends". The dog noticed the change in personality and started avoiding me (except at meal time). I couldn't sleep-getting up in the middle of the night, looking for more photos, possibly some relief. But no, pacing the floor, I recognized the signs, had been here many times before. The itch was becoming unbearable. There was only one thing to do-so I loaded up the dog in the truck and headed for the local Colt dealer. If I hold one in my hands, and see it's just another gun, maybe the infatuation will pass. As I approached the gun counter, I half hoped they wouldn't have one. I said, "Got any Colt Defenders?" Yep, they had one right there in the case. Here, hold it, fondle it, picture yourself shooting it. It fit my hand perfectly. The dog looks on approvingly. ( She is an enabler.) I love the feel, the weight, the balance, the sights, the finger groove grips. I can see myself at the range, inserting the magazine filled with the fat shiny coppery tipped factory rounds, the action going into battery, crisp break of the trigger, the report, sweet nudge of recoil, the clang of the steel plate, then again. The dog looks at me expectantly, tail wagging, surely there will be a treat in this. The young salesman recognizes the look in my eyes. I said, "Can you lay it away". He says, "Sure, but let me show you something else". He pulls out of the case a Sig Sauer Ultra Carry 1911, same profile as the Colt, ambidextrous safety, beveled magwell, grips that grab my hand, night sights, and for the second time in a short span of minutes I am carried to the brink of handgun ecstasy. I was delirious. It was a surreal experience hearing someone say, "I'll take them both", in a voice that sounded a lot like my own. When I looked around to see who said that, no one was behind me, it was just me and the salesman, who had a self satisfied look on his face, and the dog. Either I had just bought two little 1911's, or the salesman was a ventriloquist. The dog settled it-she knows my voice, had heard me speak. She looked at me expectantly-she always gets a Milkbone in the truck on the way home when we buy a new gun. The salesman comments, "didn't take as long to make up your mind this time". Sheesh, I'm thinking, he's probably a psych major.
So now I have TWO expensive guns on layaway, but the itch is gone. "What are we going to tell Mrs. Greener?", I ask the dog. She looks me in the eye but is silent, except for the sound of crunching Milkbone. That's it! She's a genius! We'll say nothing!
