I’ve held a concealed carry permit for a dozen years come this August. I have owned a ton of holsters over that time period (see DeSantis Nemesis, Fobus IWB, Fobus E2 Evolution reviews). I have decided there is no one perfect holster for all situations. There is a triangle of comfort, accessibility, and concealment that can never be perfectly balanced. The E2 Evolution holster is king for accessibility and okay for comfort, but not so great on concealment. The Uncle Mike’s nylon belt holster I have for my Glock 27 is super comfortable and has decent accessibility, but if I reach too high with my right hand my piece may show.

I soon realized that concealed carry is a lifestyle as much as it is a means of self-defense. There are certain times that you absolutely, positively do not want anyone to know you are carrying a handgun. It might be for political/social reasons. It might be for work-related reasons. It might be for legal reasons. I bump into the first two on a regular basis. It’s legal for me to carry at work, but against corporate policy. If my piece falls out in the middle of a meeting I’d be fired. I certainly don’t want to lose my job, so what’s a guy to do?

The SmartCarry holster makes a big claim: that their unique holster keeps a weapon concealed and undetectable by anyone. I plunked down about $50 and waited for the postal carrier to arrive.
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One of the really neat things about having a Federal Curio & Relic license is the ability to purchase historic firearms at low prices and have them delivered directly to my door. I’ve purchased about all the long guns I’m interested in for now, and have moved on to surplus hand guns. I have taken an interest in the two 7.62×25mm handguns that are prevalent in the C&R world, the Romanian TT-33 and the Czechoslovakian CZ-52. I purchased a CZ-52 from Southern Ohio Gun in early January. I followed up a month later with a purchase of two TT-33s from SOG. C&R handguns have to be overnighted, and before too long I had three pistols in my hot little hands.

The first things you should do when you purchase a new firearm are make sure it isn’t loaded, take it apart, and inspect it. It doesn’t matter if it’s a fifty year old Communist-bloc sidearm or a brand new German super-pistol. Following this simple procedure may have saved my life, or at least my hand.
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Folks who carry a concealed weapon do so to protect themselves or someone else. However, the vast majority of my time around my handguns is spent keeping them out of the view of others. When I first got my concealed carry permit in 1996 there weren’t the Web sites and forums we have today that talk about concealed carry. I was lucky enough to have a subscription to a few firearms magazines, and they ran some articles about keeping your concealed weapon concealed.

I ingested as much as I could from these articles, and learned some things that I still practice to this day. Little things, like always reaching above your head with your off-carry arm. If you’re a righty, you will take things off of the top shelf in the grocery store with your left hand. If you did so naturally, with your right, you may show your firearm. The inverse is true if you are picking something up below your waist. I used to just bend over and pick stuff up, now I squat as if I were wearing a skirt (there’s a scary image for you). I reach down with my right hand, as this helps your top cover your weapon better.
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Warning: this is a long entry.

With an interesting drive and my first day of the Suarez shotgun gunfighting course under my belt, Markie and I struck out to find our hotel room. We were both pretty tired, and we decided to check into the hotel, grab some shut-eye, and look for a place to eat.

I’d made reservations at the Red Carpet Inn. I was a little worried when I made my reservation. The Holiday Inn Express and most other hotels in the area were sold out, and the RCI was a not-so-highly-rated one and a half stars. “Who cares?” I thought as I clicked through Expedia.com rapidly, “it’s only one night anyway.”

We arrived to find the kind of two-level, flat-roofed motel I remembered from my childhood. My father and I would travel around buying livestock, and pull over to the most convenient place that would allow a truck and trailer to park. The main requirements back then was something cheap and close to the highway. Cleanliness and safety were further down the list. Much further. The parking lot of our motel was mostly empty when we checked in at about four. It was pretty jammed by the time we napped, showered, and headed out for food. Things had taken a turn towards the scary.

A flatbed ten-wheeled truck drove by, the lady behind the wheel’s face screwed up like Munch’s The Scream painting. The truck didn’t stop and just got back on the highway. As I made sure the motel door was shut and locked, a man got out of his dark-colored Cadillac. “Don’t forget the chicken,” he said as he shut the long, heavy door. A much younger woman wearing a very tight dress poured herself out of the passenger side, holding a bag of food. “At least they can use the grease from that chicken as lube,” Markie said flatly as we got in the Mazda and headed to town.

The rest of the night passed uneventfully, although I will admit I loaded nine rounds in the Mossberg just in case goblins went bump in the night.
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Warning: this is a long entry.

One of the first things I noted about the shotgun course was that it stopped raining as soon as I parked my car. I had read conflicting reports of either 10% chance of rain, or 80% chance of rain throughout the day. The sky appeared to be breaking up. At least I didn’t have to put on my rain gear, I would have been extremely hot even under the GoreTex. Like I said in my part one post, my spirits started to lift.

One of the second things I noted was that there was a pigeon flapping around the setup area. One of the guys joked if it was the land owner’s pet pigeon, and Frank replied that it was. He then proceeded to stick his hand out so that the pigeon could nuzzle him. Apparently Frank adopted the pigeon as a young bird and had semi-domesticated it. I expected the pigeon to fly right in front of the firing line and get atomized, but amazingly it stuck around both days. It was gracious enough to hop around to different cars and shit on all of them.

Five students with over a thousand rounds of ammunition between them, zombie headshots, and a domesticated pigeon: we were ready to start blasting stuff.
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Warning: this is a long entry.

Two weeks ago fellow YOTZer and friend Markie sent me an email entitled, “can you get the weekend off ….” In the email was a link to a Suarez International shotgun gunfighting class held in nearby Culpeper, Virginia. SI teaches classes all over the world. The class material requirements sounded ominous: 150 rounds of birdshot, fifty rounds of buckshot, fifteen slugs, and at least fifty rounds of pistol ammunition. The course notes recommended a flashlight, elbow pads, a shotgun sling, ammunition pouch/sidesaddle/etc, and the obvious eye and ear protection. The course was $265.00 and did not include the cost of ammunition or gear.

I’ve been shooting for the majority of my life, but it wasn’t anything like the type of shooting I expected to do at the Suarez course. Moving and shooting, high round count (for me), etc. Normally my shooting is done at an indoor “bowling alley” style range where both the target and shooter are standing still and facing each other. Most notably, I have never received any formal marksmanship training, just formal gun safety training. I wasn’t sure how I felt about being a novice shooter in front of a professional instructor and demonstrating my skills (or lack thereof) in front of total strangers.

However, any knowledge — even if it’s knowing that I suck — is worth having. I didn’t really consider the prospect of attending the course as “fun,” and my excitement level was quite a bit lower than Markie’s. I figured this is something that I should do as a responsible firearm owner. I also felt that I needed to carry forward a maxim I read many years ago: Teach the Teacher.

I enjoy introducing new shooters into the world of firearms and marksmanship. In order to more effectively help novice shooters understand and enjoy firearms, I felt that I needed to raise my own knowledge of shooting. The better trained and equipped I am, the more fun my friends and family will have when they go with me. Plus, it would never hurt to have a cadre of experienced shooters around me in case the dead rise. ;)

I typed in my credit card information and registered for the course. The next thing to do was go shopping.
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Around every good pocket pistol is a good pocket holster. Seriously. I used to carry an exes’ .38 snub nose revolver in my pocket when I worked at a sporting goods store, and within a month the muzzle had worn a hole in every right front pocket of all of my khaki pants. When I bought my Guardian I bought a leather Galco pocket holster. A good pocket holster (which includes the Galco, highly recommended) will not only protect your clothes but will also break up the lines of the pistol.

My Kel-tec PF-9 has been a fantastic pocket carry gun. I’ve carried it in my pocket for almost a month now, and it’s lightweight and comfortable. Granted, one of the reasons is because the Kel-tec is well designed to be a deep concealment pistol. The other reason is the DeSantis Nemesis Pocket Holster.
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Firearms are a passion of mine. If you’re a regular Gibberish reader, you know this. What you may not know is that I’ve held a concealed carry permit in the Commonwealth of Virginia ever since I turned 21. Most kids buy a twelve pack or go barhopping; I bought my Glock 27 and shot five hundred rounds of ammunition instead. I took a carrying hiatus while I lived in Oregon and Maryland, but aside from that time period if you saw me in public, chances were I was armed.

I’ve learned a lot about comfortable concealed carry over the last decade-plus. There are three goals anyone with a CCH license tries to achieve: safety/protection, comfort, and concealment. The desire to safely carry a weapon for protection is obvious. If you wear a handgun (or handguns, redundancy is your friend), then comfort is a major concern. I sit for most of the day, whether it be at the office or riding in my car. The fall and winter give you some allowances on clothing and holster options, but during the summer even small-framed handguns feel like wet anvils as you sweat just standing still.

Lastly, a key part of CCH is concealment. Freaking out that table of soccer mommies at your favorite restaurant doesn’t do anyone any good. You learn very quickly to reach for things at the store with your off-hand so that your shirt doesn’t ride up and show your piece. Take your gun out before you sit down on the toilet, or risk a nice “clank” if your handgun falls onto the bathroom floor. Sure, you might be able to pack a full-framed 1911 .45 ACP if you wear a suit all day, but my standard attire has been a tshirt and shorts/jeans. Even that is easy street compared to the poor guys who have to wear business casual. Too strict to keep a shirt over a belted handgun, too lax to wear a jacket all day. All of these issues combined lead consistent-carriers like myself to smaller and smaller handguns.
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Duke and I went to our local indoor range on Sunday. I normally go to introduce people to shooting for the first (or second) time (see here, here, here, here, here, here for the chronicles of some of my time as a firearms ambassador), but Sunday was reserved for “me.” Usually I am too busy concentrating on the newer folks to really focus on shooting better. That’s all well and good, but I don’t get much time to be over-critical of myself. I never wanted to be one of those people who got their permit, bought a firearm, and let it sit in their closet (or hang on their hip) for months without firing it. I need to get better.
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Lady Jaye, Teach, Ninja Mary and I went out to the shooting range yesterday. I hadn’t been in a few months, and it was at least six months since Lady Jaye had been to the range. When I took Teach and Ninja Mary out in January we fired my shotgun, my .22 rifle, and my Glock 27. This time they wanted to try out some revolvers. I took my G27 and my Marlin 60 rifle again. I needed to practice with my daily carry handgun and I always enjoy shooting the Marlin, the first firearm that was ever “mine.”

I am fairly certain Teach and Ninja Mary rented a Smith & Wesson Model 36 and a S&W Model 64. They are both chambered for .38 Special, which was what I recommended. I was hoping that the range had some heavier, .357-capable revolvers for them to shoot .38s through, but in the end everything turned out okay. The important lesson learned for the day was that when it comes to firearms, one size fits none.
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