sleeping with the harlot
I carried a M88 Winchester as my first and only "deer" rifle for nearly 20 years. An absolutely elegant piece of pre 64 blued steel and walnut. The rifle seemed an extension of my person. As a kid, I lived and hunted in a state where I only got a half dozen or so hunts in a season. But as I moved about I found more generous seasons and bag limits and I got to hunt a whole lot more. As the old Winchester was an heirloom, and I came into better pay and circumstances, I semi-retired the M88 and bought a Rem700 ADL synthetic.
It certainly was rough and ready. . I could tumble on and off ATV's, in and out of the truck, shooting houses, haul it up trees, and not worry to much about it. I liked that aspect.
But the Rem had no soul. It was cheap appearing, and made a funny hollow sound when handled and brushed. And it was cold in the hands, colder than wood I felt certain. And no looks to speak of. Just that grainy metal and that cold, hollow stock. No history either. This thing was just a convenience, it possessed no character, no connection to my past, my kin. I kill a deer with and feel no connection with anything, it was just a bullet launcher.
I'd slept with a harlot.