By David E. Petzal

I’m old; I’m helpless; I’m feeble
And the days of my youth have gone by
It’s over the hill to the poorhouse
I must wander alone there to die
—19th century song sung by Flatt and Scruggs, which I find myself humming a lot these days.

But that’s not important now. Recently I’ve found myself writing about a lot of old (early 20th century) cartridges, and reflecting on the fact that most of them are anything but feeble.

By David E. Petzal

That whooshing, gushing sound you heard last week—sort of like the spillways opening at Hoover Dam—was the collective bladder failure of everyone who rejoiced in the thought that this time, at long last, firearms owners were going to get a good dose of sensible gun control shoved up their collective fundament.

Manchin-Toomey did not get the votes, despite Michael Bloomberg’s money, the righteous exhortations of the New York Times, the arm-twisting of the Sandy Hook parents, and the impassioned speeches of both Obamas.

Ninety percent of the American people wanted this, everyone said, so how did it fail? That figure came up again and again, as sacred and immutable as anything that God said to Moses when he went up on the mountain. All but 10 percent of us, went the Revealed Word, wanted Manchin-Toomey.

By David E. Petzal

The first Nosler Reloading Manual appeared in 1976 and contained 234 pages, about the size of the French novels we read in college to impress girls with our intellectual powers. It has now morphed into a veritable tome of 864 pages, a work of such godless and massive thoroughness that one shudders at the thought of lifting it.

Picking it up, however, is well worth the trouble. There are 117 cartridges in here. I did not see the .22 Velo Dog or the .498 Thunderfu**er, but they’ve got just about everything else, including a fair number of rounds of which I’ve never heard.

By David E. Petzal

After my fragile form stopped shaking from the laughter induced by Frank Bruni’s “Day of the Hunter,” a sober realization crept over me. Despite our differing lifestyles and world views, we do agree about something: He wrote: “It was impossible for me not to be nervous around guns..”

Same here. There are a number of words you could substitute for “nervous” that would perhaps be more accurate: “Vigilant,” “Watchful,” and “Suspicious” are three. I’m highly suspicious of all guns at all times because, like all experienced hunters, I’ve had a good many demonstrations of what guns can do.