Anything you can do, I can do better

Did you ever end up doing something you swore you would never do? Well, today I did just that. Thanks to my friend Robert Avrech of Seraphic Secret.

Turns out...Annie Oakley ain't got nothin' on me! Yep, that's right.

Since I was the esteemed winner of the Seraphic Secret "guess the 10 year old" contest, Robert was going to send me my winnings: an autographed copy of The Hebrew Kid and the Apache Maiden and a Seraphic Press baseball cap.

Being that we only live 35 minutes from eachother, I thought, why not just pick up my prizes directly from Robert. And while I'm there, we can swing by the shooting range.

WAIT A MINUTE! REWIND! PLAY THAT BACK!...The shooting range???

Robert has tried for nearly a year to convert me...no, not to orthodox Judaism.
But to a gun toting, card carrying, Bush loving Republican.

HA! Who does he think he's dealing with? Me... A lifetime liberal democrat. Not so Bush loving. Not so gun loving.

Then I turned 50. And something else took over. That something else being... you better try a few things you would never try, because you aren't exactly getting any younger.

But, I thought to myself, what's left. Afterall, I've had several brushes with fame.

Jay Leno has flashed me, I've dined with the voice of Bart Simpson, luncheoned next to Mickey Rooney and I married a man who will probably be the next American Idol...what could possibly be left?

And then I remembered. My friend Robert had offered to take this mild-mannered little Jewish girl to a shooting range.

So, that was it. I knew I had to do it!

I showed up at Robert's right on time (with a chocolate chip Babka cake, because my mother taught me well. Anytime you go shooting, make sure you bring your host a babka cake. They'll appreciate the gesture and perhaps be less likely to turn the gun on you at the range).

We drove off in Robert's car, but because I talk too much and wouldn't stop hounding poor Robert with questions, we missed our exit and got a tour of parts of L.A. that, well, let's just say you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. But, not to worry. Afterall, I was on my way to becoming a "sharp-shooter".

We finally made it to our destination. Upon arriving, we were asked to sign an affidavit stating we were not crazy. I fooled them. I signed, left a thumbprint, and off we went.

Robert had 3 guns for me to choose from. A rifle and gun from the old west (just like Wyatt Earp would have used, he explained). The other, a 45 Dirty Harry type somethin' or other (well, probably not really...but it seemed like it to me).

Robert carefully showed me how to take my stance, breathe, hold the gun, point and shoot. I loaded and unloaded the guns.

And then, like Annie Oakley herself...I took my first shot. Up and over the target the bullet flew. Okay...just my first shot. No big deal.

So I kept going...bang, bang and bang again...I HIT!!! A little low, but I hit.

Now I was feeling it. Power baby, power. I continued shooting with the gun from the old west.
Until it was time to move on to the 45. I shot...woah...that thing had some power...scary.

Then it was time for the rifle...much easier...steady, aim, fire...YES...I hit the head, the abdomin, the throat.

As I turned around to report to Robert..."hey look at me, I'm hitting"...he very kindly suggested that I might not want to turn with the gun, as it was pointing toward him...OOOPS!

I continued to shoot. Hitting almost every time. Robert pointed out that I was pretty good for a first time shooter and that I had an unusual amount of hits to the throat.

"Nobody aims for the throat, Randi, that's unbelievable", he explained.

Apparently, my goal was not only to kill 'em...I was gonna shut 'em up too!

Oy, listen to me. Just yesterday, I was a peace loving, non-violent, sweet woman.

I came home to excitedly show my husband the targets I had shot at.
He's still sitting in a corner cowering.

One advantage to this whole thing? I can sit on my couch eating icecream, watching t.v. and I don't think anyone's gonna try stealing the remote from me.

No longer am I just a pushover mom, or dutiful wife... no sir, not me.

Thanks Robert...for a fun day...(and lucky for you, I'm no Dick Cheney) not so sure the rest of my family thanks you...but, hey, who cares.

NO ONE WILL BE MESSING WITH ME FROM NOW ON!!!