I'm new to all of this forum stuff (obviously). I'll start right off by saying please excuse my spelling. I do know how to spell but you see - I have a virus on my PC that jumps up every now and again to scramble the letters on me. You probably have heard of this - it's called the "Fat Fingers Virus". Very difficult to get rid of so I have to live with it.
I grew up in Mass (hey someone had to) and moved to Maine 36 years ago. Massachusians (a better word than the popular alternative) aften put Maine down but it's funny how many end up here.
Anyway, I can remember growing up in Mass; a friend and I riding bicycles to the town dump with shotguns or rifles tied across the handle bars. Nowadays that will get you pinned to the ground by a Swat squad but back then the local officers would sometimes join us in blasting cans and bottles - alwayts hoping for that elusive rat to shoot at. Yup that was a long time ago and in a state known for "burning witches and handguns at the stake". (got that from a political cartoon in an old American Rifleman)
Well I survived childhood - which was surprising in itself since we used to experiment with anything that would rapidly accelerate inanimate objects towads other inanimate objects we called targets. Somewhere along the way I learned responsibility. Yup, anytime anything was broken or destroyed, my dad figured I was responsible. (kids, do NOT try this at home) So yes you could sum it all by by saying I was a good example of what not to do.
Raised a family in Maine. Held a job fabricating structural steel until that company went out of business (wasn't my fault - honest!). Then got into quality control at another company fabricating structural steel. I'm still there although I get suspicious when my boss tells me I need to train younger folks so I don't have to work so hard. I wonder what he really means by that? Well families all grown so i don't have to worry so much about them (still worry though)
Anyway, I have launched small projectiles of all sorts, most into gravel banks, some at deer or partridge. As I get older, I don't care about hunting so much but I still love shooting. And fishing. And reloading so I can do more shooting. I'd try shooting fish but the DIFW folks frown on that in this state. (Had heard that it used to be OK in Vermont - don't know if that's true but I don't live there.)
I try to be polite at all times - but sometimes I don't care. (I usually regret it later though)
Oh- and the Junction15 handle? That a code for where the stream crosses the road on my property - or does the road cross the stream? Well at high water in springtime.... Beautiful place though.
Welcome from the Peoples Democratic Republic of New York. I grew up 10 miles as the crow flies from Fenway Park; still subscribe to the credo that the sun rises in the east, the IRS is not your friend, and the New York Yankees are the Antichrist; and feel that the Commonwealth earns its reputation as the most firearms-oppressive state in the Union. You aren't the only one who fled the state for friendlier climes.
My family used to vacation north of Boothbay Harbor. I learned how to handle small boats, swim and fish there. That's where I acquired my love for the sea. See my avatar; it's not used by chance.