Concealed Carry Challenges and Christmas [ Podcast 501]

I asked my friends on Facebook for a recommendation for a concealed carry pistol and I share that here.  When I carry, it has been a full sized pistol.  I am going to shop for a smaller, more concealed gun in the future and review them.  I got some great recommendations from you.  I share some of the unspoken but real challenges of concealed carry.  In this episode I will also give you a taste of my goals for 2017 with your show.   Michael J. Woodland, talks about challenges as it relates to shooting better.

This is a Christmas themed show so I have clips from old toy commercials and a poem to get you in the mood. Check out Colion Noirs #pewpewlife merchandise.

 

Thank you for your well wishes for last weeks milestone.  I have some dynamite people on my team.  You made it work.  (Podcasting for 9 years and sending out 500 episodes) It is a labor of love.  Shout out to the Patrons.  You are the Secret Santas.  http://patreon.com/blackmanwithagun

For the children that may be listening or the one inside of you I narrate this old favorite.

 

Twas the Night Before Christmas

 

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.
And Mama in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
gave the lustre of midday to objects below,
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
“Now Dasher! Now Dancer!
Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid!
On, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch!
To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away!
Dash away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
so up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
with the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head and was turning around,
down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes–how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”

Clement Clark Moore

 

I wish you a very peaceful, happy and safe holiday season.

 

Love,

Kenn

 

Crossbreed Holsters 

US Concealed Carry Association 

 

 

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