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It's Saturday night and I just got paid
I'm a fool about my money and I don't try to save

No cracks about the knife, that's elephant ivory, not mother of pearl.

I'm bound for Black Mountain, me and my razor and my gun
Lord, I'm bound for Black Mountain, me and my razor and gun
I'm gonna shoot him if he stands still, and cut him if he runs

Air gun Trigger Gun barrel Gun accessory Machine


With thanks to Little Richard and Bessie Smith (Black Mountain Blues):

 

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Yea, I thought Saturday Night Specials were supposed to be cheap, janky, typically a small caliber, and work when they want to.
Depends on the Saturday night guy, I'd say. What's cheap for one fellow might not be for another. So far as reliability goes, I'd just as soon it work every time.

As for janky . . . I don't know. In the days when I would venture out of the house on Saturday night I was attempting to be as elegant as possible under the circumstances. Janky was not part of that self-image . . . at least not intentionally so.
 

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It wasn't a term used to describe a gentleman's evening gun, but a term used to villify cheap pistols that were easily accessible to poor people (and of course often used in crime as throw away pistols) back when anti-gunners were focused on banning pistols instead of ARs. So by Saturday night, think Saturday in Chicago and by cheap I mean absolute bottom of the barrel (hence janky and not reliable). Jennings and Raven pistols, Rohm revolvers, basically the kind of gun we encourage first time purchasers to steer away from if at all possible because we'd rather they have something reliable in a respectable caliber for self defense.
Okay, okay guys . . . . You win. I just wanted to show off my Kimber 1911. As for
must be some kind of new Gen X or Millenial, metrosexual re-imagining of that term
Ouch, that's a mite severe, now isn't it. I may be too old to be sexually relevant but that doesn't make me metrosexual . . . I don't think. Hope not.
 

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Don't sweat it. I was just asking because I'm over 60 and never heard Saturday Night Special (as far as handguns) used to define anything except subcompact, inferior caliber backup guns usually used by thugs. And, before the demokrats came out recently with their lame attempts to change the definitions of everything to justify their BS political antics (like changing the term infrastructure from roads, bridges, buildings into day care and safe spaces for college kids that are given free college tuition), the definitions of things were the same for over a hundred years. I just figured that these new demokrat and GenXers with their new trend to define things the way they "feel" like, was resulting in this "new" definition of Saturday Night Special. But, then again, I don't know the ages of the people doing this, so I could be wrong about all of this. In any event, metrosexuals are demokrat liberals. So, if you're not a demokrat liberal, it doesn't apply to you or anyone else.
All is well. My first sure-enough short gun was a .22 IMP. I believe I am correct in remembering it was made by Imperial Metal Products in what was then called "West Germany." I bought it from a little store front shop on Dixie Highway in "Old" Pompano, Florida, circa 1960. I was 16 or 17 and spent $12 or $15, something like that. It was pre-GCA 68 but even then I think it was probably illegal to sell to a young hoodlum, such as I was. I cannot recall anything else about it, except of course carrying it to school, and strutting around armed on, yes, Saturday night. Thank heaven I did not shoot myself or anybody else or otherwise end up on the road gang or sitting in "Old Sparky."

I think you are probably right about "Saturday Night Special" being "subcompact, inferior" and "used by thugs." I have spent the last sixty years trying to rehabilitate myself, hence trying to pass off a real gun as a SNS.

As for the changing world . . . right about 1964 I decided my own personal influence on history was very limited and set out to cover my own tail (and by extension the tails of my wife and children) and let the idiots running the world continue to screw things up. I confess I do not know what half those words and phrases are supposed to mean.

Thanks for the kind words and good wishes from one beaten up and tired, but well-armed, old man.
 
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