"One nice thing about semi-rural life...”
Yep. Out here in rural hill/farm country no one panics when a gunshot is heard. My usual thought is, “Dinner for someone!” or “Another coyote bites the dust!”.
When I used to visit a friend in “old suburbia” in Dallas n the ‘80’s, we used to sit on his front porch, drink, and play the game of “Name That Caliber”. It was especially challenging on Friday/Saturday nights.
“.22 pistol” ... “.38SPCL” ... “.380ACP” ... “ another .38” ... “9mm? No, maybe .357MAG” ... “Whoa! 12 Gauge! Cops must have arrived!” ...
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