I miss the JC Whitney catalog.
That would be like trying to describe the smell of fresh baked bread, or describing the color orange to a person that's been blind since birth. It's one of those unique smells, one that's not so much the smell itself, but one that takes you back to a time and place. An early morning, the sun just started to come up over the hill, a slight chill still hanging in the air, the pointers performing their ballet hot on a scent, freeze frame on point, birds knowing they can't hide anymore and exploding out of the sage brush, shotguns going off and you never notice the sound, and a good dog tail wagging knowing you're proud of his job, dropping a bird at your feet. That's what it smells like.Please describe to the best of your ability what that smells like. I’ve only shot maybe 20 or 30 plastic hull shotgun cartridges over the years, and those smell like smokeless gunpowder. I’ve never been interested in shotguns.
That's because no one has a Herters catalog anymore. Boy would I love to have a couple of those old things! I'd be a better man!I miss faith, loyalty, work ethic, patriotism, and love for America in the general public. I know it’s still out there in pockets, but it’s getting close to being on life support.