This is an overdue post. Sometimes life gets in the way of life. This is also long-winded. TL;DR: This a great community and thank you.
I've learned that George is known for his sticky fingers, but man, this dude must have forearms like Popeye cuz this package, to quote my roommate, "**** near broke my table." And from the looks of it USPS didn't appreciate how George took advantage of their "if it fits, it ships" policy.
I don't have a story quite as ridiculous as some of the others I've read about George, but since I'm new here I figure I'll just say a bit about myself as a way of explaining how thankful I am for this big ol box o' boolits.
The reason I have the above mentioned roommate is because I decided to quit my job and go to grad school. I had always imagined getting my PhD (English) but by the time I finished undergrad I never wanted to see school again. But, now, here I am: 31, broke, and about 4 years into a 6 year program. Now I'm lucky because the program I'm in covers my tuition and pays me a stipend in exchange for teaching a few classes at the university, but the trade off is I can't have any other job so I'm stuck living off $17k/year. And it could be worse, I know plenty of people with families that are trying to get by on less. That said, I made more money when I was 19 than I do now and it's taken some getting used to.
Ok, so what does this have to do with George? Well, before I moved to central PA for grad school I had never even shot a gun, let alone owned one. I mean, plenty of beer cans met their demise at the end of my Daisy 880, but that doesn't count, right? So one day I idly mentioned to my Dad that I was thinking about getting a .22 just to plink around with because it felt like knowing how to shoot a gun was one of those things everyone should know how to do, kinda like changing your oil or a flat tire. To my surprise he tells me that my grandfather, who I never met, had a .22 rifle and pistol that have been sitting in my Dad's closet for 50 some odd years. And so it began.
The guns are a Wards Western Field rifle (I think mine is a Savage based on the barrel stamp but don't know for sure) and a classic 3 screw Ruger single six. So at 29 I started what most kids in PA start at 10--stalking squirrels like they were the most dangerous game in the world. I was hooked. Within a year I had added a 9mm, 12gauge, 30-06, 223, and a new 22 so I could take it easy on gramp's old rifle (my lastest is an 80% lower, 10.5in 300 BO). Of course, all those guns needed to be fed, so I started hand loading.
Right, probably a familiar story to many. So here's the deal. I didn't grow up shooting or hunting, and being in an English PhD program and being a hunter/gun owner means that everyone around me basically thinks I'm a nutjob. And I don't want to make this political, I've got my issues with liberals and conservatives alike. But when it came time to learn how to hold a gun, gut a deer, check headspace, run a ladder test, etc, I turned to the internet. And this is where George and others like him finally make it into the story. I've just been blown away by how welcoming and helpful people have been on this forum and a few others. I am naturally a very cynical person, and most experiences in my life have reinforced that cynicism. So to George and all his minions, and to the many others that will undoubtedly answer questions for me in the future, thank you for restoring a sliver of my faith in humanity.