By Mike McGovern

A gun range has a certain je ne sais quoi about it. Maybe it’s the imminence of severe injury or possible death—it’s at once exhilarating and stress relieving, and is the main reason for my recent shotgun purchase. A secondary reason is for home protection.
Living in a townhome community for 4 years—the close quarters, the shared driveways, yards, and walls—one learns a lot about people. On one side you have people who are considerate, who organize yard sales (that begin much too early on Saturday mornings), and who scold their children when one scampers into the street without first looking both ways. On the other side of the spectrum lie the neighbors who live on either side of my home.

First, we have the end unit “family.” When we moved in they were seemingly nice, always said hello and chatted briefly and such. The couple has four children who no longer live there. The same goes for the father. The situation has devolved to the point that my wife and I aren’t sure what’s going on. He did return two Saturdays ago, but that was just to bang on their front door and yell to let him inside. We assumed the girlfriend had locked him out. Since it was only 8:30pm, we let it go figuring it was a minor domestic dispute that would blow over.

Cut to 11pm: We’re in bed watching the weather report and nodding off to sleep. Muffled yelling. Walls shaking. At this point, and given the late hour, I wasn’t having this go on any longer. Swiftly tossing the blanket aside, I bolted down the stairs, flung open the door and before I could say anything he cut me off with, “It’s just me.” I replied, “I don’t care. We’re trying to sleep” and SLAMMED the door shut. Not a half-hour later he’s back at it, and this time the noise is even louder. I tried to be nice the first time. Without hesitation I grabbed the phone and cleared my head while waiting for the police dispatcher to pick up.
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A beer was my companion on the stairs while waiting for the police to arrive. I have to hand it to them, it was no more than 5 minutes.

Cop: “You got up there, so you can get down,” I heard through the front window. “Down from where?” I thought, heart still racing from the excitement.

Apparently the guy had climbed up onto the front overhang in an attempt to break in through the second floor bedroom window. The footprints I saw in the snow the next morning confirmed that assumption. It also made more sense why the banging and vibrations were so intense; he was only 10 feet away from our bedroom window! Granted, he wasn’t attempting to break down our bedroom window, but the residual sense of danger was too close for comfort.

A few days later, it was brought to my attention that a local firearms shop was selling a slightly used Remington 20-gauge shotgun at a great price.

So what’s the moral of this story? Guns don’t kill people; people kill people. But when your family feels endangered, it’s best to be prepared. Oh, and if you can, avoid living in a townhouse for any extended period.

*Lawyer Notice That Comes With All Mike McGovern Articles: ProLong Magazine does not condone the use firearms or threatening your neighbors with your guns .

When he’s not busy shooting birds at the airport, Mike enjoys pointing out the surprisingly prevalent misuse of “it’s” and “its,” taunting children, and spending time at the park with his wife Michelle and his dog Sam. After 4 years of marriage Michelle says, “I don’t use the word ‘perfect’ much, but he really is.” Mike, Michelle, and Sam live in an undisclosed location in PA, a town in Lancaster county that just recently began providing running water to its residents. Mike’s day basically involves helping save lives as the Managing Editor of a peer-reviewed wound care journal. Contact Mike: psudeke1@gmail.com.

By Mike McGovern

Radiohead. Ryan Adams. Fleet Foxes. Counting Crows—all examples of first-rate music acts, right? Of course they are, except that in my ignorance I had either

A) Written them off (Radiohead, Counting Crows) or

B) Didn’t know who they were (Adams, Fleet Foxes).

Photo courtesy of Pete Rahn

It wasn’t until about 5 years ago, around the time I met my future wife, that the dark cave that was my musical world finally had some light shed onto it.

By age 27, I knew what I liked and what I didn’t like. Radiohead? Too weird (Kid A probably wasn’t the right album to start off that relationship). Counting Crows? Mr. Jones was alright—but it was 1993, I was a freshman in high school and probably didn’t know any better. Bryan Adams sucks. Oh, Ryan Adams you say. Who’s that? You get the picture.

Now it’s almost surreal, especially in the case of Ryan Adams, that I’d gone for years without knowing his music. The Love Is Hell album was one of those “Where have you been hiding?” type albums. I have Michelle, my wife, and Felicity to thank. She first heard his cover of Oasis’ “Wonderwall,” (while in a miserable and heartbroken state herself) and loved it, was further intrigued by “La Cienega Just Smiled” from Adams’ 2001 Gold, which was featured on Felicity. Later, she looked him up and was hooked.

Soon after we met she burned a legally downloaded/purchased copy* of Love is Hell for me, which I grudgingly accepted. Rarely do I like an album on its first listen through—this was an exception. The lyrics conjured vivid memories tied to significant events in my life up to that point (heartbreak, new found love, regrets). I too was hooked and he quickly became my favorite musician. What he does so brilliantly is he manages to combine his perpetually lonely, regretful state with incredibly melodic, straightforward, infinitely singable songs (eg, Anybody Want To Take Me Home, Love Is Hell, Avalanche). His music will never bore you; I guarantee it.

But I’m not a music critic and this isn’t an album review. Just remember the next time someone offers to burn a legally downloaded and purchased copy* of a CD for you don’t decline it, because you might be missing an opportunity to discover your favorite musician.

*Lawyers: ProLong Magazine does not condone the use or act of illegally downloading music via the Internet or other technological gadgets and gizmo’s.

When he’s not busy shooting birds at the airport, Mike enjoys pointing out the surprisingly prevalent misuse of “it’s” and “its,” taunting children, and spending time at the park with his wife Michelle and his dog Sam. After 3+ years of marriage Michelle says, “I don’t use the word ‘perfect’ much, but he really is.” Mike, Michelle, and Sam live in Leola, PA, a town in Lancaster county that just recently began providing running water to its residents. Mike’s day basically involves helping save lives as the Managing Editor of a peer-reviewed wound care journal. Contact Mike: psudeke1@gmail.com.