Charity Event Bakersfield-Style

Yesterday I attended the 3rd annual Mick Asbury ALS Shootout, put on by my pal Darin, his brother Tyson, his mother and all sorts of supporting friends and family.  Darin’s father (Mick) died from ALS a few years ago and this event both memorializes Mick and provides funding for research and financial support for those suffering from ALS.  There is no known cure and minimal treatment (to my knowledge) for this debilitating and ultimately fatal disease.

I don’t know all of the reasons why a Trap Shooting contest was chosen as the method to get people together and raise much needed funds but at least one reason is to celebrate Mick’s love of all things outdoors.  And let’s face it, it was in Bakersfield so it was bound to involve either guns or big trucks (or both in this case).

Some notes:  I arrived at 7:30 thinking I would be really early and able to help setup.  The place was already buzzing with volunteers with at least one guy (Alex, the funniest guy in the room) having arrived at 4:30am.  Thanks for the grub Alex!

They had a ton of raffle items: A couple of nice shotguns, gun cases, big screen TV (this is Bakersfield, remember?) and many other items.  I came home empty-handed on the raffle but neighbor Matt walked away with the TV.  Yeah, I was suspicious of that too, especially considering he won a shotgun last year.  Matt’s boys each won a basket of specialized chips/salsa and other goodies provided by Alex.  Yes, we all had a bit of fun with them on those winnings but they get the last laugh because of the gun I was shooting.

My group consisted of Matt, his two boys and Matt’s dad, Grandpa Joe.  Matt, Grandpa Joe and Ross all shot 12 gauge while Sam and I went with the 20 gauge.  Yes, I realize that Grandpa Joe is in his 80’s and I’m just shy of 40.  I received the appropriate hassling and have provided them with a lifetime of ribbing rights.  Those rights are even further extended because…

On one of the early stations, I must have adjusted wrong trying to get the second bird and when I fired it jacked my shoulder.  I went through 6 or 7 more stations but each time it got worse and worse (as did my score!).  I eventually switched to the right side (I’m left handed/eye dominant) and from there got very few hits for the rest of the round.  At least, that’s my excuse for the low score.

Before I decided to switch shoulders I gave the group even *more* joking ammo when I decided to jam a little jacket under my shirt for padding. That jacket was henceforth referred to as Tom’s Tampon.  Nice.  The group behind us also got to join in the fun.  So a group of 5 Bakersfield locals will forever recall that girly-man and likely fall out of their chairs once or more per year.  Your welcome guys!

The group of guys I hang out with tend to go after the most wounded so if you’re feeling bad for me, come out next year, bring a pellet gun, complain about the noise and the sun in your eyes and how it’s so hot and dusty outside.  That ought to let me off the hook for at least one day.