January 26, 2011
Some Meditations on the SHOT Show 2011
By David E. Petzal
by David E. Petzal
The 2011 SHOT Show was mobbed, as it always is, and among the crowd were platoons of New York Times reporters looking for extended Glock magazines. But that’s not important now. Here are a couple of random notes having little or nothing to do with guns.
The Chris Reeve Knives booth is not only a good place to ogle terrific sharp instruments, but for good conversation. While loitering there I spoke with a trauma surgeon who had recently amputated the leg of a farm worker who had gotten tangled in some kind of sinister machine. The doc did not lop the limb in a hospital; he did it right there at the scene of the accident in order to save the man’s life, and he used an extremely sharp Lone Wolf folder, the same knife that won a Best of the Best award a number of years ago. He recommends it highly for ad hoc limb-lopping, and suggests that if you work on a farm you do not wear loose clothing.
There was no shortage of excellent booth babes, and as I lurched from aisle to aisle on the lower floor of the show where the ventilation is scanty, a particularly fine blond one slunk up to me and purred,
“Excuse me, sir, do you do CNC machining?”
I replied that I did not, but that if I got into a second career I would be glad to consider it for her benefit.
The bottom floor, as I mentioned, was poorly ventilated, and as a result you ran into micro-climates and fart banks. A fart bank is similar to a fog bank but smellier, and marks the spot where someone who had been into the refried beans a little too hard left a gift for everyone else. Fart banks linger there for a long time, and getting into one is like being exposed to CS gas—your palate tingles, your eyes tear, and then your throat closes up. It would be very nice if the Sands pumped some air into the place next year.