Broken Glocks and Revolutionary Repair Techniques

So, in my usual pattern, I haven't blogged for over a month. I have two problems: A. I really want to have a popular, well read blog and B. I'm too lazy to consistently write a blog.



Those two things work in opposition.



Also, I cannot find the charger to my camera batteries, so I can't take new pictures. But moving on.......





The Mighty, Untouchable, Unyielding, Perfected, Flawless Glocks failed me. And they failed me hardcore. On a day of shooting with an old college friend, My Glock 17's slide began to fail to lock back after the last round was shot. Thinking it was a magazine problem, I began cycling through my various magazines to find that every single one had the same problem.



In the meantime, my friend was trying out my Glock 23 and had several stovepipes. Now, I'm not one of these "Glocks are perfect, they never fail ever!" kind of guys. I know that every gun is susceptible to failures. They will likely all malfunction or break at some point. Glocks are no different, and while I own and shoot them, I think there are superior firearms. These just happen to be paid for.



But I'm telling ya, mine just never have failed. I know they can, they just haven't. But suddenly, I have 4 stovepipes in about 15 minutes on my G23 and my G17 is being fussy too.



After find that every mag on my G17 had the same failure, I decided it was not a magazine problem. I gave up, and began to shoot my G23, which then also experienced the same failure- the slide does not lock back after the last shot.



In frustration I stepped back to gather my thoughts. What could be wrong here?



1. All the mags I'm shooting are quite new, so I don't think I'm having a catastrophic coincidental failure of 10 magazines.



2. Double checked my grip- not limp wristing, hiting the slide release, etc.



3. Inspect guns- appear to all be in good working condition- no obvious broken parts as it pertains to the mag/slide lock.



4. I was shooting a new kind of ammo. Winchester Win-Clean Brass Encased Bass. Okay.....this could be something. I switched back to the ammo I've always used- same problem. Doh.



5. To my knowledge God is not angry with me and playing a joke on me.



So I give up, pack up, and go home a bit puzzled.





Then, it dawns on me.



An idea so crazy, so revolutionary, so fresh that it just could be the solution.



The light bulb lit up over my head as I thought, "You know, I haven't cleaned those guns in a long time......I've shot hundreds of rounds since the last cleaning".



At about 10pm I set about at my garage workbench and cleaned up my guns.......





.....The next morning I ran by the range before work.........





Hallelujah its a miracle- they work just fine. Amazing what a little cleaning will do. So for all the "Glocks never fail, never rust, don't need cleaning, can survive nuclear fallouts and then make a super baby with a penguin and start a new planet in another galaxy" people out there- bad news. Glocks are mortal.



And, prefer to be clean as it turns outs.

The Logic of Instruction

Stuff like this kills me. I bought a Shopvac for my little dryer vent problem at my new house.

I get the shopvac out, pop the wheels on, and I notice that the box says I need to install the wheels per the included instructions.



But there are no instructions......



Oh, the manual must be in the actual vacuum tank. I take off the top lid of the Shopvac to find instructions and 4 screws. Here's the instruction manual:

Okay, so step one is instructions on how to open the vacuum tank. Problem being: the instructions that contain step one are inside the tank that they are assuming you don't know how to open!

I love this stuff!

Congrads! You're a Homeowner! PS- your dryer is broken.

Not sure what I paid my home inspector for right now. A couple days into being excited about my first home (which is fairly move-in ready), I noticed that the exhaust vent had become disconnected from where it fed out of the house. No big deal. This looks like a job for H.I.T.

While looking it over, I noticed it looked wet next to my dryer. I couldn't really see, as it was dark, so I grabbed a flashlight. That's when I found that the tubing leading from the dryer exhaust had been torn, and the dyer had been spewing hot, wet dyer lint all over behind the washer, dyer, and into the storage area below our steps.

How long it has been doing this, I do not know. I pull out the dyer, begin to look at things, and realize that though the vent is torn, all the tubing is still completely clogged with lint as well. Not to mention the dang this is set up with several sharp turns = fire hazard.

Just found a great excuse to buy a Shopvac.

What slays me is that just before closing, we asked the sellers to install a radon mitigation system. The system was put in just adjacent to the dryer. So either the home inspector missed the problem, or whoever installed the mitigation system didn't bother to bring it up, or both. Nice.

As I went about rectifying the situation, I vacuumed out the tubing and piping that vents the dryer. A couple pipes were hard to get at to see, so I took pictures to check the progress. In that process, I found my inner endoscopy nurse. These look a little bit like images from the Tin Man's last colonoscopy.

Everything looks fine Mr. Tin Man. Just a few small polyps. That's normal for your age. Some new aluminum foil flexible tubing, some aluminum tape, a few clamps, and good vacuuming, and you're on your way.......

Ammo Shortage Update

Made the rounds (no pun intended) around the stores today searching for ammo. Specifically, I've been looking for Federal Hydrashocks in 40 S&W, which has been my carry ammo.

None.

One sporting good store happily has had plentiful target ammo in several brands for most common calibers, so that has not worried me (though price has gone up).

Hydrashocks for .38spl are usually still around here and there, which is fortunate as I often carry a J-frame revolver. When I found 6 boxes of 40 S&W in Fargo, I should have bought them all. I only bought two.....

I'm considering changing what I carry in my Glock, simply due to the fact that a local gun store always seems to have plenty of self-defense ammo available in everything but Hydrashocks.

The Pocket Problem

When I bought my Smith and Wesson 642, I bought it with the intention of frequently pocket carrying. I thought I would pocket carry....all the time. The salesman at the gun store promised it would disappear into a pocket, and indeed, he produced a j-frame revolver from the front pocket of his jeans. I had no idea it was there. Perfect.

I, however, am struggling with pocket carry. It seems I have no pair of pants which accommodate the revolver in such a way that it "disappears" into a pocket. While I don't wear the biggest, baggiest jeans on the planet, I certainly don't wear skin tight cowboy jeans.

In an Uncle Mikes pocket holster, it seems to still print a fairly obvious pattern through a pair of jeans. I can always identify a cylinder and a grip.

However, most people aren't specifically looking for a gun, and may not see those things. However, it still seems to leaves a fairly large.....uh......bulge.....for lack of better term, in my pants pocket.

So, while I may be able to carry and not obviously have a gun, I still look like I stuffed a Cornish game hen down my pants. That is a far cry from the revolver that disappears into my pocket.

I do have several coats that work just fine, though my favorite coat does not have deep enough pockets, and the grip sticks out. To carry with that jacket, I must keep my hand in the pocket at all times.

So, suspicious looking hand in pocket at all times, or small fowl in the pants.....this seems to be my dilemma. It was hard to capture in pictures, but trust me, its quite obvious.

Hence, i carry IWB most of time.

Stupid Cupid

I'm sitting here in the PACU at about 1:45 am. I'm going to a gun show at 9am and it dons on me......its Febuary 14th. Who's idea was it to have a gun show on Valentine's Day? Is someone purposely trying to tick a bunch of wives off, or what?

Political Ranting

Okay, I just need to get the Obama complaining out of my system. Here goes.

First off, this guy got elected promising people we needed change. Duh. We need a plan for the economy. Duh. Now this guy is president and I'm not sure he has a plan yet.

I flipped on the the TV on Friday and he's talking about the economy. And he's still babbling about how we need a plan and it needs to be this and that....but the guy still has no freakin' plan! Its exactly what I feared about the guy.

Also, he's very quickly backpeddling on many of his stances. Though usually covered heavily by the media, he very quietly signed an order to repeal a Ban on federal funding of abortion groups, an issue which he craftily managed to make everyone happy on as he ran for office.

And don't even get me started on the people he's appointing to important positions. Its a nightmare.

Guantanimo Bay...whatever.

Screw the gun control stuff, I think he's hopeless on a host of issues. Doesn't matter how good he sounds on the podium of he doesn't know what he's doing in the Oval Office.

I'm pretty much afraid for us.

Ammo Shortage?

It would seem that in the days post inaguaration of our new fearless leader Barak Obama,

there is a possible ammo shortage. Looks like everyone is buying up all the ammo they can. My buddy, a police officer called me and let me know there was a "cops only" sale at a local sporting goods store, and he could get me 10% off ammo.

"Sure I said, pick me up 500 rounds of 9mm and 100 rounds of .40"

When my phone rang on the day of the sale, I almost knew what my friend was calling about.

"There isn't one round of 9mm in this whole store"

Crap. I should have seen this coming. All I've got at home is 100 rounds of .40 and 20 rounds of 38! Crap!

"Is there any 40 ammo?" I asked hopefully.

"Yeah"

"Okay, pick me up a couple hundred rounds"

Turns out there was only 6 boxes left of .40 ammo in the store, of which 4 became mine. Had I known it would be that short, I would have bought all 6. I've been trying to trim the budget after buying a house and and getting engaged.

I jumped online the next day to check a website for ammo, and was almost horrified to see that 7 out of 8 pages of 9mm ammo was sold out!

I've been so busy helping my dear and wonderful fiance plan a wedding and buy a house that I didn't put any thought into the whole Obama thing....and now I feel like I've been caught with my pants around my ankles.

Until there's more ammo out there, I'm not shooting much, I'm just hoarding what I have. So much for my indoor USPSA competitions that just started up again......

She is Blind

America spoke today, and proved its blind folly by choosing Barak Obama as the next president. We cannot see through the cataract of this momentary financial situation, and have made a desperate choice. Obama will do good things for the economy- at the expense of the liberties and basic practices of this great nation. Pray that the leaders of this nation will make wise decisions, and not allow the many foolish policies Barak wishes to institute.

Guess its time to look into that AR.

Can't see the Forest

Well, in an overwhelming stew of political opinions, its time to throw mine in. First, I'll just say it, I'm a McCain/Palin man and its not just because they are pro-gun.

I am amazed by the support that Obama is receiving. Sure, we need change. No doubt. Economy is falling apart, absolutely. George has failed us? I'd say yeah, and I voted for the guy.

But what kind of change do we want? Can Obama fix the economy? Maybe. I think he could probably do some good things. I think our country's financial state may improve with his leadership.

But at what expense?

There are some things more dear than the dollar. There are things more precious than our checkbook. There are things that need to be protected beyond our IRA.

America. What it is, what is was founded to be, what it could be. A repair of a fractured economy crafted by Obama's hands would come at the expense of our country's integrity. Obama is dangerously un-American, flirting with socialism, and would be bad for the heart of our great country. And no, its not because he's black and has a name like Barak. I'm not that ignorant.

He is a confident and poignant speaker. He carries himself with grace and ease. He exudes a feeling of calm that immediately seems to quiet even my worries. But in these hard times, its quick to fall in love with the image that is Obama. However, while he carries himself in a way that is reassuring- I fear what he'd bring to America.

The fact is that right now, people can't see the forest through the trees. We are so caught up in gas prices, stock markets, failing retirement funds, and bad home loans that we are blinded. Obama looks like a giant dollar bill floating down to save us and we are grasping at it with all abandon. Anything that doesn't look like George Bush is an oasis and we are desperately running toward it.

But perhaps, its just a mirage. It looks so good, seems so real- we need a taste of that refreshing water. I fear though, that Obama will give us nothing but a mouth full of sand.

We want a better economy. We want out of Iraq. We want to be comfortable and happy again. Obama may fix a battered economy, he may pull us out of a war but....

What will the bottom line mean for your checkbook? Many call him a socialist.

Do you see him as our Commander in Chief? John McCain has been in battle.

Does he support the moral compass of America? Our morality is in shambles.

Is he the best thing for America? Or is he more interested in change for the sake of change?

Will he protect Constitutional rights or rip them away? Americans have had the right to bear arms since its conception, and Obama is heavily anti-gun of every kind.

Choose wisely. Think beyond today. Think beyond your hurting checkbook. Any new president will enact healthy change for the economy. Don't crucify McCain because you think he's George Bush. Don't drink the sand. Stop and look through the trees. See the forest.

Nobody's Perfect

Well, you can't place them all perfect, can ya? My first target from the first time I shot a G17. See lower left.

What Have I Done??

Well, I did it.

I sold my 1911. My only 1911. Why? Well, this year I have bought 3 very nice guitars and associated gear, 3 pistols, quite a large amount of shooting gear, I've exponentially increased what I've spent on ammo, and I got myself completely set-up for backpacking and took two trips. That's a ton of money I spent on hobbies people. And I wonder why I struggle to buy a house. We are talking thousands. Two of my guitars alone brought me in around 5k. That's fine and good, this stuff will all last a long time if I take care of it.

In the meantime I wanted a carry/home defense gun that was larger and had greater capacity than my J-frame, but wasn't as large and heavy as my Kimber 1911. I also want new sights and trigger work on my Glock, would like a shotgun, and an AR-15. Well, see above paragraph. I just can't keep digging my my pockets for more guns this year.

It seems I wasn't shooting my 1911 often, nor did I seem to enjoy it much. I like shooting Production class in IPSC so I was sticking with the Glock. Also, I really wanted that carry/defense gun and felt I couldn't wait.

So, I sold my 1911.

And now I'm freaking out. What was I thinking? Maybe I was thinking, I don't know. All I know is, suddenly a 1911 seems like the best gun in the world, and I don't' have one. A 1911 is now way up high on my gun wish list. In fact, I'll most likely get a shotgun, then a 1911.

The only question is this: What 1911? I need to wait and see what happens with competition next year. I may decide I need a full size since that's what so many people use. But, if not....if I am digging the Production thing, then I think I want a commander size 1911. I'm thinking either Colt Combat Commander or a Kimber Pro.

Though I'm still full of doubt and sadness, I will give my new Glock 23 a fair review. Besides, it is working out well for me and its intended purpose.

Gym. Rats.

I decided I better have one of my semi-annual trips to the gym today so I can justify my $40 a month membership. Also, I'm just getting fatter so its not a bad idea.

As my sebaceous glands pour forth a fountain of sweat, I take stock of the situation around me. Old lady on my left. Pregnant women doing aerobics on the basketball court. A decrepit older man crawling off a weight machine with help from his cane. A host of buff, muscular men hefting very large amounts of metal.

Still I feel good about myself until I lock eyes with the man I'm calling Herman. Herman is easily mid-60's with thick brown plastic frames surrounding his very large glasses. Those glasses are older than I am. He wears a large orange sweatshirt and brown pants. He holds himself up by his forearms on an apparatus which suspends his legs and supports his weight in such a way that his neck has disappeared. He looks like a 65 year old Simon Birch.

He locks eyes with me and holds the stare for a moment as he effortlessly raises his legs forward and up in a sort of backwards mid-air sit up, demonstrating far more abdominal strength than I.

And I feel ashamed.........

Changing My View

Recently I was going to be receiving a patient. 58 year old with Down's Syndrome, Alzheimer's, Personality Disorder, OCD, and a history of being combative.

Very quickly we decided not to recover this patient in the usual open PACU bays, but in one of our private rooms.

The patient is brought in, he is intubated, and while be for awhile. He is still completely out of it after receiving ketamine, midazolam, and anesthesia. He is 100% unresponsive. I settle in close by his side where I can monitor him and his airway. I chart away, thankful for a chance to do paperwork right away, but also with an ominous feeling that when this guy wakes up it will be with bravado. I have gloves, a syringe for the ETT, and suction on standby. His caregiver arrives, sits in a recliner and turns on the TV.

She is watching ABC's "The View".

Have mercy! Could there be any worse show on earth? It is torture. The slow, rhythmic, misty breaths coming from my patient's T-piece puff off as a time keeper. Each breath is chalk mark on my cell wall reminding me that this is going to be a long recovery. Anything has to be better than The View. I can't believe women watch this.

I feel like I'm sitting in the hen house listening to five old birds cluck. No words, just angry clucking....

Creepy Massage

I was just musing about my first massage. It was a birthday gift in college. But I'm pretty excited for it. Who doesn't want a massage? I check into the Salon ready to go, but already feeling a bit....odd. I mean, for me, its a bit invasive.

I'm ushered into a small massage room. Its what you expect. Dim lights, cheap fountain in the corner, reeks of incense. There's a shower in the corner full of stuff....I hope its not for me.

"Go ahead and take off as many clothes as you want. A lot of people go naked, but some people just strip to their underwear."

...

As much as I want? What I want to wear is a goose down parka while some stranger caresses my jiggling body. I want to not feel like a beached whale and have someone I don't know start feeling me up. But, I suppose the massage will be less effective that way. And lets just come out and say it. At this point, I'm in college, doing the saving-yourself-for-marriage thing, and I'm the v word. That's right virgin. So virgin Chris is stripping to his skivvies, crawling into a bed in the middle of the room, and waiting for a burnt-out hippie named Marge to come rub him down.

And in walks Marge.

You think the burnt-out hippie part was a joke? No. 50-something white woman. Frizzie hair adorned with dreads and beads. A dress that could only be made of hemp, or possibly the beard hairs of a goat. You know, the kind of lady that only drinks from a Mason jar, doesn't own a car, makes her own soap, and works by the light of a natural beeswax candle.

In a sultry, dusky, Mary Jane influenced voice she coos, "Is this your first massage?"

"Yeah".

"Oh, that's wonderful. Would you like some music on?"

"Sure."

"What do you like?" At this point, I had just joined the college jazz band.

"Well, I like jazz"

"Okay, I'll put some on".

Apparently, we have miscommunicated at this point. To my horror, Kenny G begins floating ominously from the $25 boombox on the counter. I shiver slightly and decide its okay.

"How's that?" She asks. "Uh....great. Great. He's good" I sputter.

"Okay, I'm going to begin." Oooookay.

I begin to be rubbed and massaged and kneaded by Marge. Kenny G wafts seductivly through the air as Marge engages in oil-laden strokes of my legs. Kenny sings to us......Ba da da ba da ba da, ba da da doo....... It does feel nice. However, full body means....well a lot of the body. 90%. But you know, even if you don't drive to Houston, you can still feel a little country at the Texas border.

Suddenly, my body is confused by mixed messages and she rubs my thighs.

Mmmmmm....

Mmmmmm....

MmmmmmMARGE! SICK! No! Retreat!!

Ba da da ba do be da, ba doo bee dwoo da.......

You are not helping me here Ken!

And yet, it feels good. Thighs being rubbed....good......Marge touching me....bad.....Baseball, cold showers......

Fortunately, its time to flip on to my stomach. She's now massaging my back and its feels good. My face is in the little open donut thing facing down, but my eyes are closed. I'm oblivious for a moment to the word. Hence, I don't notice as she sits on a stool facing me, her legs under my face. I don't notice that her hemp-dress-concoction has a slit in it. I don't notice that the slit in her dress is really quite high, that perhaps her woven wonder has fallen to each side of her legs. I don't notice I'm the in the lap of.....luxury.

Until I open my eyes...

To a suprise....

Margie's thighs.

The Burning!! The pain! Why doth thy dress part in such high flight? My nose is in the holy of holies here, and I want out! Suddenly, "Danger Zone", the theme song from Top Gun is flying through my head and I'm wondering if its possible to get "the clap" in my nose.

But suddenly, praise my maker, the massage is over. Like an embarassed youngling I wait with the covers pulled tightly until she leaves the room. I get dressed. I'm given a water bottle. Apparently they notice the sweat on my brow. Should I be smoking or something now?

I'm ready to leave and before I can get through the door Marge fires out, "Hey, what are you doing right now?"

No way. This lady did not just ask me that......

"Uh, not much."

"Could I get a ride somewhere?"

You've got to be kidding me. I am finally free of a rather awkward hour, and its instigator needs a ride. But I'm a nice guy. "Sure."

I give Marge a ride to the mechanic about 10 blocks away, she thanks me, and reminds me to drink plenty of water or I'll be sore. Yeah but what about the psychological damage lady? As she gets out of the car, I feel like I should be asking,

"So....do I call you sometime?"


...I choose instead to say thank you, and pull away a bit faster than the speed limit.

Shot in the Wallet

This Sunday I'm shooting a 3 gun match at the local USPSA club. Pistol, Shotgun, and AR-15. Ran to the store to get the ammo I need. I bought cheap stuff (not Wolf cheap, but its not a bag full of Hornady or something).

200 rounds 9mm

60 rounds .223

25 rounds #7.5 shot lead shells

$80+

I hate that.

You know You're a Male Nurse If....

You know you're a male nurse if......


...the "Personal Care Kit" (aka first aid/med cupboard) for the employees of your unit has more space dedicated to feminine hygiene products than anything else.

....there are pumping rooms for your co workers. And its not for pumping iron.

Life Skills

Recently, a new Nursing Assistant joined our department. She is in the Air Force reserve. She is a jet mechanic.

You know, sometimes you hear people trying to sell the military: "Join the military, and you'll learn all kinds of useful skills for life."

So I asked her, "how's that jet mechanic thing helping you out?" It of course is not. I asked if any skills transfered like fixing a lawn mower or someting. Nope.

I can just see it now....

"Honey, I asked you to fix the vacuum"

"I did"

"It sucked the carpet off the floor..."

"....So?"

"It shot it out the back and fired off a missle!"

"Yeah, we've been having trouble with that....."

Loaded?

Recently, I made the decision to begin carrying a concealed weapon. If you are someone how knows me, and followed this link from facebook or something, and think I've gone crazy, check out My Stance on Gun Ownership and Use for a thought out description of why I think this is wise.

Anyway, my family was not so crazy about this idea, but I got them to accept it. They knew I was buying a S&W J-frame, etc. So my first weekend I came home after I bought it, I was carrying. No one noticed.

The subject came up, and somehow I mentioned I was ordering a better holster. "Holster?" Dad says. "Then everyone would see it."

I decided maybe we just need to take all the fear and mystery out of this, and talk about it. I revealed I was carrying, with the plan to unload the gun, show it to them, discuss it. I proceeded to safely unholster the gun, point it away from everyone, and unload 5 rounds of .38spl.

"Its loaded??!!" bursts out my sister. "Why would you carry a loaded gun?!"


........Why on earth would I carry an unloaded gun? That's called a $450 paperweight.

Gun Shop Battle

Recently, I picked up my first concealable gun. For the review on the actual gun, click here. This post, is the story behind choosing it......

I headed down to the gun shop I frequent today, where they were holding a 637 for me. Bought it, along with ammo and a holster. I head back toward the range and stop at a table to get everything together. Who walks up but their shooting instructor who I had recently met and was planning on taking instruction from. I had discussed getting the 637 earlier with him.

So he strolls by and I say "Hey ____, I picked up my concealed gun finally".
He looks for two seconds, looks straight and me and says "Why'd you get the one with the hammer?"
"I thought you said it would be fine."
"If you're not going to pocket carry"
"I'm going to pocket carry a lot"
"Well you do whatever you want"

....well what is a guy supposed to do. I bring it back to the counter, say I might want to exchange for a 642. And so the battle began.
"Why?" The guy who sold it to me said slowly and obviously annoyed. I explained my conversation with the instructor, which I thought made sense. The salesmen proceeds to tell me how much I'll hate the trigger on the 642 and there's no point.
Okay, so......"You're telling me its a bad idea?" I say. "Yeah", he says.

About this time instructor walks up, they exhange glances at each other, and its obvious we are now engaged in a small battle with me in the middle. The solution is simple, just get what I want, and they both agree. Except, I don't know what I want. I have two different people telling me two different things, and I don't know who to listen to. It should be mentioned that the salesmen was actually rooting for a gun that was $50 cheaper. I'm standing there, angel on one shoulder, devil on the other, pulling triggers over and over, slipping guns in my pocket,pulling them out at varying speeds and angles, trying to make a decision. I'm going crazy.

As they both battle for who is right, they keep telling me to just pick what I want, while they both stare at me. Now I'm picking sides?

In the end I side with the instructor, and ask to exchange for the 642. Though cordial, the salesmen is obviously not happy, as his hands are shaking the entire time he is working the exchange.

Now, what right does he have to be mad at me, other than I picked the other guy's advice? It should be mentioned that both of these guys have been my patient in the PACU recently and they both remember it. I think, they should be extra nice to me! I gave them pain medicine in their time of need!

All I know is, I started a fight in a gun shop. That's the last place I want to be in the middle of a fight, especially when I can't shoot my weapon because I'm returning it.......