GET THE LEAD OUT
A small chapter from one of my manuscripts.
We didn’t hear our dad talk about the twenty two caliber rifle incident often, and after we were older we learned not to bring it up at all.
My dad bought a used twenty two that didn’t shoot straight. Of course he didn’t know it didn’t shoot straight or he’d never have surrendered cold hard cash to get it… those are the ingredients for stories that stand the test of time through generations.
Now a rifle that won’t shoot right is just an expensive club, and not even a very good one at that. Not to mention the fact that it’s mighty hard to kill varmints with a club, least wise until they’ve been shot or trapped.
image courtesy of arms list.com
Turns out that the rifle barrel’s machining was full of lead from the scads of bullets that had been skedaddled down the pipe; where the old adage, “Get the lead out,” comes from.
When my dad took the worthless gun back to the man who sold it to him, dead set on getting his money back one way or the other, the man was in a less than agreeable mood. I don’t know who the man was, but I gotta give him some credit, he was tough. Or maybe he was dumb, but he was willing to go fist-uh-cuffs to back up his less than honorable ways, or he was betting that the young man wouldn’t resort to less than civilized ways.
That flick of his wrist at the end of my dad’s vicious left jab was powerful and effective, even more effective than he’d meant it… no wonder we got all the speeches about using it for the just cause.
It was just something that my dad would have to live with; the regret of tearing the man’s eye out of his skull at the end of a punch. He permanently blinded the man in that eye for his remaining days stumbling around this earth.
It takes time to figure out the cards we’ve been dealt in life, which ones to keep, which ones to throw away. There are some that will bluff, but know when to fold, and sometimes winning isn’t worth the price it costs. The man that sold a useless rifle was gambling. My dad was just figuring out the hand he was dealt.
Just because violence becomes a way of life, and even if a person gets good at it, doesn’t mean they love it. Some of them did, but my dad didn’t. The world sees a man who can get what he wants as a tough man, a strong man. My dad looked at this life and those types of matters with a different perspective. Although he’d been molded and taught how to survive in an unforgiving world, he didn’t see it as strength. He never uttered the words to me, but I knew in most cases he saw it as weakness. The strength the world saw was really his weakness. He was like the nail that couldn’t be driven straight into the heart of the wood. It looked strong, but it bent at its weakest point. Only God can use a bent nail…
Sunday, February 18, 2018 @ 7:30 pm
A pound of flesh even then did not end up bringing satisfaction. I can understand being cheated, stolen from and wanting to kill who ever it was . . then second thoughts and best to let it lay there. Your did got the lead out alright and the man who sold him a gun that would not shoot correctly also got a lesson that would remind him his entire life. We are that way at times. Our choices come back to haunt us and even though we make corrections in our life, there are still the memories that refuse to stay in the grave. I also remember learning to hit a nail with a hammer, and hitting my thumb or finger instead. Wow those lesson hurt. Thanks Floyd for another post for us to remind us that we are human, and for the Grace of God, there go I.
Sunday, February 18, 2018 @ 7:35 pm
Your Dad sounds like an amazing man who definitely learned from the lessons God sent to his life, and now, those same lessons are being lived out in yours. I love what you said at the end…God can use a bent nail.
Your manuscript sounds amazing…I hope God leads you to the right publisher. Your work needs to be read by the world. God bless you, brother.
Monday, February 19, 2018 @ 4:50 am
I ditto everything Cheryl said.
Monday, February 19, 2018 @ 4:52 am
Your dad learned a lesson in such a hard, hard way, Floyd. Can’t imagine how he must have felt at that moment. However, it seems the wisdom learned from this regrettable event was also passed on to you–without you having to repeat it! Thanks for sharing this story, Floyd.
Monday, February 19, 2018 @ 6:11 am
I learned something new today. I learned what “get the lead out” came from. I thought it meant get the lead and out of your britches and run, i.e. talking about a slow person. Sounds to me you got your grit from your pop but also learned your lessons from his as well.
Monday, February 19, 2018 @ 6:15 am
When you introduced this as a part of your manuscript, Floyd, I’m thinking fiction; or is this a book based on fact? Loved this excerpt, my friend, and am certainly looking forward to more teasers like this one. Great writing!
Blessings!
Thursday, February 22, 2018 @ 10:54 am
It’s non fiction, a memoir and tribute manuscript to my dad.
Monday, February 19, 2018 @ 10:30 am
So true about what the world calls strength but can very well be weakness. Such a good message! And aren’t we all bent nails?
Thursday, February 22, 2018 @ 10:55 am
Indeed…
Monday, February 19, 2018 @ 6:25 pm
Only God can use a bent nail…love this brother. We are all bent nails, dull from sin, bent on having on our way but a bent nail in the hands of a loving God is a story worth telling. Looking forward to reading the whole book someday…glad you dry spell is over.
Thursday, February 22, 2018 @ 10:56 am
I’m not out of the desert just yet. That’s why I posted something I already had written. Thanks for your support.
Tuesday, February 20, 2018 @ 5:02 pm
Just from the little bit you’ve shared about your dad, Floyd, I have a feeling that what happened between him and that man was one of the deepest regrets of his life. I’m sorry he had to live with that but I’m thankful for the lesson learned. And even though you weren’t allowed to speak of it, you’ve learned from it, too. Thank you for sharing part of your project!
Friday, March 16, 2018 @ 4:21 pm
Love that last paragraph, Floyd, and the encouragement that God can use a bent nail. I think it’s neat that you wrote a book about your dad! Plus I love memoirs! So glad you’re still writing, Floyd! I’m now working on a book on procrastination. Hoping it will change my life. Have to figure it out myself before I can help others! 🙂