On the day designated to honor the achievements of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., I decided to exercise my right to keep and bear arms by taking my Ruger Vaquero to the range. Apparently, I was not alone in that regard because, for the first time since my association with the range began, I had to take a number and wait for a port. After forty minutes, my name was called and I proceeded to my port and readied myself. Not sure what the reason, perhaps the wait, but, to my estimation, I was not having a very accurate session. About half way through the hour, a young man who was waiting his turn at the port next to me was standing in a position giving him a view of my target downrange. When I stepped back to change targets, he mentioned to me that I was a pretty good shot. My reaction was appreciation but that I was actually having a bad day and was capable of doing much better. So, I put up the fresh target and sent it downrange. My next two shots were dead center in the ten ring. Go figure!