You know you're gun freak when:

You discover that you use more auto-polishing goop in your brass tumbler than on your vehicles.

You discover it when the knock-around mini-van looks like it ought to be sitting in front of a taqueria  in a land where English is not the native tongue. This thing hasn't been washed since the summer of '10 and not even much rained on since June. So wash it. It looks so much better clean, why not slap on a coat of polish?

The shed, where last year I distinctly recall seeing three of four jugs or partial jugs of the stuff  was bereft. Guess I didn't keep track of how many times I raided it in order to create an eye-burning sheen on my .45 ACP reloads.
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Related frugality check. Long ago I checked the price of specialized magic brass polish from Midway or Brownell's or someplace like that. For the same money you could get the polish or a brick of .22s. So I wondered how car polish would work, especially since I get if for about a dime a pint in dollar boxes at auctions.

The short answer is "identically."  So gimme a brick of those Winchesters, Mr. Vendor.

That level of cheapskatedness sounds pretty compulsive, and perhaps it is, but practiced over a period of time it enhances the ammo stock and even the pistol racks.

Caution, terrorist content: IIDs

The TMR Legal Review Section requires the warning, never mind that we used to demand that every Campfire Girl be adept at creating and handling Improvised Incendiary Devices.

You could do evil things with them, as you could with your fingernail clippers,  but the intent is to start small comfort fires when things are cold and wet.  And, importantly, to do it for free.

These things always work and give you a fighting chance to ignite even damp wood. The paper serves as a sort of fuse, giving you time to get your hands out of the way before the match heads blow.

The raw materials:

Melt the old candles. Low heat is safer. Dump in your freebie matchbooks. Let them soak a while. Fish them out and lay them on paper.

Like this, only sloppier. You want the paper wax-infused.  I sloshed these through  warm wax again after I tore them apart.

Store a few of them in old zip-locks too grimy for food. Include a couple of untreated matchbooks wrapped in plastic film. A bag in every vehicle, your bugout bag, and whatever back packs, range bags, etc. you ordinarily use.

You are welcome.

Will Success spoil Erin Bolster?

Let's hope not. Any 19 25-year-old beauty who will aim her horse at a charging grizzly to save a little boy is a woman you young guys should be fighting to court. You just have to trust  Providence that she's looking at her Letterman gig as a lark rather than a ticket to celebrity hood.

Any mention of this Montana story also requires a nod to Tonk, an 18-hander that, around here, would be referred to a a BFH.

Smartening up the kids. Yeah, right.

Governor Branstad is within hours of a high-level dog and pony show to flash his new education reform plan -- my state's seventh such attack on ignorance in the past few years.

Okay, Governor, I'll be watching for you to tackle this one, a true story from a buddy who operates an eleven-employee business requiring workers who have at least rudimentary literacy and an atom or two of technical competence.

She hired a fresh hand, provided a little training, and sent her off to do some simple work. The newbie -- a product of previous education reform -- came back to ask "How do I find three-quarters of an inch on the tape measure?" 

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My reform plan: Consult Charles Darwin.