Marks of manhood

I went paintballing yesterday. For those of you who know me, it's probably not one of those activities you would imagine me participating in. Although I am not Ganhdian in my pursuit of nonviolence, I do have a habit of avoiding pastimes which involve the use of camouflage. A friend of mine caught me at a weak moment, and with my health I figured, "What the heck, this might not come my way again for a long time."

So I was outfitted with a basic mask and gun, and turned loose on a ranch boneyard that had all kinds of fun nooks and crannies. We played teams, with a kind of kill the other guys objective, which suited me fine. In each match we were granted a certain number of "lives". The first time around I died gloriously by being shot in the head (right between the eyes), my kneecap, and the rear end (we got flanked).

The second time around I was a lot more cautious, and even managed a couple of kills (Ha ha, nothing like pegging someone in a bright shirt who thinks he's being sneaky in the grass. Oh and desert cammo only works in... never mind, it just doesn't work.). I was surprised by how much I enjoyed myself, though I will probably never pick it up as a hobby. My friends gun, which shoots something like 10-15 balls a second (at what point do you just start throwing cans of paint at each other) ran him $600, and I'm told you can shell out quite a bit more. You might catch me out there a couple more times though.