Cluttering, Conniptions, Compromise & Genius
The Hazards Of Gun Writing
A picture of Albert Einstein’s desk taken the day he died.
Deep within the bowels of the World Wide Web is a picture of Albert Einstein’s desk taken on the day he died. Covered with pamphlets, books, legal pads and a host of other materials piled 3-, 4-, and even 5-levels deep, it looks rather messy. His bookshelves aren’t much better. Scientists, researchers and even anthropologists have observed a peculiar trait in Mensa members known for their intelligence. That is — they’re slobs.
Takes One To Know One?
Clutter and extremely high IQ are as synonymous as chicken and eggs, and no one knows which came first. However, in my case, I might have a clue. I’m patiently waiting for the high IQ part, but I’ve got the cluttered part covered in spades. Perhaps this answers the original question?
I haven’t always been clutter-challenged. It just happened. My wife opines the clutter started appearing when I started scribing articles. Some say it results from having a brain full of ideas bouncing off the intercranial shelf, while others just call it scatter-brained.
As ideas manifest, I start working on the project. Then, as another idea pops in my head, I start working on the freshest thought, or at least lay the groundwork before it disappears.
Nothing is more frustrating than having thoughts, ideas, or solutions disappear as fast as they came. Lord knows how many ideas for solving world hunger, disease, famine, or world peace have disappeared in better minds than mine. Yet I’ve no doubt it happens.
Tank even grudgingly agrees, sometimes things get "kinda" out of hand!
Inspiration?
By having work items lying about, it’s easier to conceptualize what it is I want to accomplish. Lucky for me, my wife is very understanding. No matter how many guns I have strewn around the house in different stages of assembly, break-down or awaiting the installment of a scope, sight or sling, she never complains. Well … almost.
Our formal dining room table, or as she calls it, “our formerly” dining room table is the perfect station for working on long guns. The hutch next to the table makes the perfect storage facility for ammo for upcoming tests, targets, small tools and other shooting paraphernalia.
The bottom drawers hold my Lee APP press, assorted sizing dies and gas checks so I can clamp the press on our table and watch Westerns while sizing bullets. Targets, various gun tools, including multi-head screwdriver kit and various needle-nose pliers of every shape, size and function round out the mix.
I have a large collection of Allen wrenches sent from various companies along with their wares. Every size, style and metric are covered, I just can’t remember which wrench fits what part? But I better save them, just because.
Glassine baggies? I have gaggles of them, more than any self-respecting crack dealer would have. These bags held various screws and other small parts at one time, and they always come in handy. Speaking of screws, I have the World’s Largest collection, but have no idea what they go to. Sandwich bags of various handloads round out the mix. They are sprinkled about the house in places I’ll “never lose them,” though I always end up searching for them like an Easter egg hunt when it’s time to shoot.
Looking in the napkin basket, there is a set of dial calipers. I keep them here because I’m always misplacing them, and you never know when you might need to precisely measure pork chop thickness to prevent any arguments while serving.
Read It
My wife calls it the “command center of chaos,” but it’s really my Lazy Boy chair. Next to it sits a pile of literature stacked precariously high, defying the laws of physics and gravity. So impressive, I’m deemed Jenga champion of the house for only I know how to remove any book, magazine, or literature piece without making the 4-foot tower of periodicals collapse. It’s a good skill to have but one my wife doesn’t totally appreciate.
The smaller kitchenette table is perfect for Tank to clamp his
Lee APP press onto and size bullets while watching Westerns
or hunting shows.
Loading Bench
Show me a clean, tidy loading bench and I’ll show you a psychopath. I mean really, who in their right mind maintains a clean loading bench, especially during load development. A cluttered bench is an archaeological dig of sorts, allowing one to pick and probe at past projects, experiments, hopes and dreams should your data book get misplaced.
Boxes
If only we could subsist on cardboard, I would never need to shop, hunt or fish again for meals in my lifetime. I get more boxes from deliveries than most. My favorites are the ones hazardous materials come in, mainly because they are packed full of primers, powder and other goodies.
Extra thick and durable, these boxes are perfect for storing heavy items. Giving them to neighbors makes them wonder what the heck I’m up to with the bright red “Explosives” label on the box. I can take down, break down and reduce the boxes to flattened status, lickety-split. In fact, you could call me a professional boxer — I’m so good at it.
While cluttered quarters may be indicative of a high IQ, maybe I put the cart before the horse? Either way, I guess it doesn’t really matter, I am what I am.
