Handguns, Hippy Parties, and Hacky Sack

This weekend my dad asked if I wanted a handgun. Honestly, I've wanted my own gun for a while, as in registered in my name and everything, so I was interested. He handed it to me and it looked way better than the revolver he showed me a picture of on a Turner's ad a few weeks ago.

Anyway, we went out the kitchen door and I took aim at the piece of sky above the apartments behind our house, pulled the trigger and was surprised when the gun went off. I put the safety on right away hoping no one heard it. My dad and I directed our attention to the pulley-style clothes line that was running above the backyard all the way to the freeway in front of the house. Because it just so happened that that day the clothes line was strung with chickens, as in poultry. I took a play aim at one of the moving targets, but was distracted by this oldish guy who walked up our driveway into our yard, looking at the chicken line with purpose. I hid the gun awkwardly by my side, even though the guy already saw it and the rifle my dad had. The guy didn't seem afraid though.

He walked up to the chicken line and started taking a few down. Meanwhile a couple of other strangers came up and started setting up a barbecue pit right in our backyard. Then more people came with blankets and other picnic accessories. My dad suggested we leave them to their party, so we went inside and closed the door.

I was really fascinated by these hippy strangers just walking in off the street to have a barbecue in our yard and peered out the den window just watching them til it was dark outside. It was a mixed crowd. Old and young, neatly and sloppily dressed, clean cut and shaggy, talking to each other, sitting on blankets and eating.

I saw a few guys who looked like they probably knew how to hack, so I went to the living room and told Henry he should try to get a hack circle going. I gave him a footbag and he went out the front door and started hacking on the lawn. There were younger people on our front lawn just standing around with their beanies and plaid shirts.

As I was peeking out the front door I noticed two girls about my age sitting on the porch floor. They asked if we had any chairs they could borrow. I pointed out the disassembled chair next to them and tried putting it together, but it was taking too long and they looked cold so I went inside to grab a blanket for them. I helped drape it over their shoulders then went back inside because it was getting really cold by that time. I forgot to check if Henry was able to get a circle going, but I was really hungry watching people eat barbecue chicken all day, so I was kind of preoccupied. Also, the fact that a hippy party was going on in our yard seemingly without any form of consent was weighing heavily on my mind.

Anyway, I had a strange Thanksgiving.