Nothing left to burn….

As I quietly sit in the early morning glow of a laptop whose keys are now shiny from untold hours of mindless chatter, soul-searching, and self-imposed mental exploration, I wonder if I will ever look at these keys the same way again? Usually my headphones are filled with the driving tones of music. Some mornings it would be soothing voice of Johnny cash, and others the guttural screams of Tom Araya, But as for now I’ll just listen to the low hum of the cooling fan, has it always been so loud? Countless hours have been spent in this exact same spot, doing the exact same thing, but somehow now it feels different. Maybe because it is…

FIRE… One simple word, evokes more feelings than almost any other in our language, and it means completely different things to each person who hears it. To a man who is freezing, it means warmth, it means hope. To someone who is lost, it means rescue and survival. To the family whose home is engulfed in it, it signifies loss and dispar. One word with infinite interpreted visualizations, and that is only speaking of the literal meaning of the word, not taking into account the figurative. Being raised in the cold woods of the North, I was taught at a young age how to build and tend a fire. Be it in the basement wood stove, or the rock entombed pyre of many a campsite, fire was always something I respected and idolized. The warmth of its coals, how its dry heat can take even of the simplest of food and turn it into the most delectable of feast. The way that its flames lick at the darkness of night and provide security and protection from all of the unknown that resides beyond its glow. At the discovery of fire, it has been man’s  utmost goal to harness its power, and perpetuate its gifts. I could go on for hours about different ways in which an individual can be prepared for the worst, by only being able to make fire. I could tell you about how (in my opinion) having a 5 pack of Bic lighters wrapped in duct tape on your person, and in your pack at all times is a minimum when entering the woods. Or explain why I now also carry road flares whenever I adventure. I could tell you how to make fire from water, ice, urine, pool chemicals and brake fluid, magnesium, reading glasses or a beer can and  some chocolate… But in all reality it isn’t going to matter… In the world that we live in, people have decided that is not important. One of my favorite teachers in high school use to say that it “didn’t matter if you knew everything, as long as you had the ability to find that information when you need it”, and that may hold true as to somethings, ( if you need to know in what period of time the “decentralization of power” took place in the Byzantine Empire for instance) but not for everything. With the ability to find just about everything that you could ever want to learn about on your smart phone, most people have given up on the idea of learning a craft through experience, and being able to instantly call upon that practiced information for future reference. Why would they? I mean it’s all on “Google man”… But there is one thing I can tell you is absolute fact, in a situation where you will actually call upon information to save your life, you’re not going to have phone service, and if you do? Dont waste your time looking up how to survive, call 911, quite screwing around, and get rescued. End of story. That is the real reason why they made cellular phones after all right. So why do I spend these mornings explaining situations I have been in and what I have learned from them, and why do I try to pass along knowledge I have gathered throughout the years about survival and the like? Maybe I feel like there is someone out there reading that may take what I say for what its worth, and practice these same skills in order to be more prepared and accountable for their own life. Maybe I like to write down these experiences so that I may relive them, and learn more from them with wiser, older eyes. maybe its just something that I do, maybe it relights my fire.

Many of you may not already know this, but as of 5/16/2018 Post World Patriot will be no longer. Through hours of contemplation, conversation, and with deep regret we have decided to no longer keep the PWP domain and website. Through the last couple of years we have had the opportunity to meet up and chat with a lot of you folks out there, be it at the gun shows, or just light-hearted banter being exchanged on the Facebook and website pages. But as our civilization is growing, and people’s focus have changed, it has become apparent to us that the fundamentals in which PWP has, and always will be based upon, is no longer something that individuals are pursuing, more so, it is probably unlikely those values will be appreciated or understood as we appreciate and understand them in our lifetimes. The people who will be the most affected by this will more than likely be Kris and myself, (no one has ever believed in something as much as we do about the core values of PWP)  for every blog that went up, we at PWP would spend literally hours (if not days at times) researching topics trying to give you all information that would help you either grow confident in new skills and challenges or help you in your pursuit of personal subsistence. Every video (even though there were not a ton of them) would consist of a day where we would all get together and brainstorm ideas, a day of filming, and (God bless his heart) a day of Kris turning himself into Quasimodo, hunkered over a computer trying to filter out every “F-BOMB” that inadvertently got dropped during filming (sometimes there were  A LOT). In our absence, I hope that all of you who are attempting to become proficient in all aspects of the Patriot lifestyle, continue to do so, and constantly perpetuate that fire for knowledge. Step out of your comfort zone, try something new, (this guy is now a card-carrying member of the trapping community), and most importantly never stop learning. When there is no one left to guide you, lead yourself and take control. When there is no one left to teach you, learn your lesson by trial and error, then teach those that long for that same knowledge. When it feels like you are all alone in these pursuits, and you feel like giving up. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, take a deep breath and look around. If your standing by yourself, you are more than likely the only one who made it.  Yes I know it came from a goofy indie band, that neither you nor I has ever listened to, but the quote is STILL priceless and timeless… “When there is nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire”. Thanks for all the good memories. Until we meet again…

-Grant Willoughby 04/07/2018-

Built to last?

Boy has it been a while, but let me explain… On April 17, 2016 at 10:09 am I posted my first blog for Post World Patriot, actually it wasnt just my first blog for Post World Patriot, it was my first blog EVER! Kris and I had met up the weekend before, and we decided the best way I could help with the cause was to make an “attempt” at blogging for the website. Mind you, the last time that I had typed out anything besides a resume, was in the fall of 2000. It was rough. I was, and am still not a “writer” by any interpretation of the word. Even more than that, I am not a “computer guy”. Have I said yet that I am also not the most social or extroverted individual? I can get along with anyone, and once I reach a certain level of comfort, most would say that I am decent enough dude to spend an afternoon with. But I was raised in a way that has tought me to not attempt to be a know it all, or force my idea’s or knowledge upon others. So blogging was going to be a little outside my comfort level. As my Dad would say “God hates a coward”, so I decided to give it a go and jumped in with both feet. At first it was equal parts of excitement and horror. I would write a day or two a week, and posted every Sunday for around a year. Some blogs got plenty of views, others were seen by only two sets of eyes. Kris’s and mine. Sometimes It really bothered me, and sometimes I couldn’t have given a shit less. I was providing information, free of charge, that anyone was welcome to read (or not read) whenever they wanted. Then around november of last year, I started looking at the archives of PWP, I looked at every blog that any of us had ever posted. No I didn’t re-read all of them, but the list that I havent is getting pretty slim. I started to look at the views. Some months we had 4 (not hundred, or thousand, just 4), others we would have 500+. Some blogs would have likes, some wouldnt. The same goes for comments. This is where I started to really scrutinize what I was actually doing. I have never claimed to be an “expert”, in all reality no one is really an “expert” about anything. Think about it, How many people throughout the course of history were thought to be “experts” then 100 years later, everything that we had been taught to be true was completely disproved by another “expert”? “Expert” is a term that has a shelf life, and is just a fancier word for our accepted truth up to this point. What these “experts” have done however, it to pique the interest of others in a way that causes them to continue researching and learning about something that has already been discovered or explained. So what does this have to do with me? After reading all of these blogs, and analyzing all of the blog stats, I realized that all this time I have been walking up to the  podium, doing a classic Beastie Boys mic check, then preaching the gospel of survival though preparedness and firearm efficiency to a bunch of empty seats. Typing just to read my own words I guess. Then it hit me, even a college professor, who has been hand-picked for their prowess in a given subject, is only allowed to continue to be a professor if there are enough students in the seats. No asses in the chairs = Class no longer exists, or professor is replaced. Maybe it was time for me to drop the mic one more time, and maybe this time it would be for good…

I like learning about “stuff”, I like being mentally stimulated, and actually having something intelligent to ponder. I work in a beer warehouse as the night supervisor, and the predominant activity that I am responsible for is processing orders on a computer. It works a little something like this: A salesmen writes orders at an account (grocery store, gas station, bar etc.) and submits them on a tablet. They magically appear on my computer, I organize all of these orders by where they are being delivered, what day they need to be delivered, and what kind of account they are. I then process these orders into a head set, print them out and hand them to “pickers” who will pick each order by number of cases and stop number that will be delivered from the trucks. Then I load the orders onto the corresponding trucks for delivery. As you can probably tell, it is not exactly the most invigorating activity that an individual can participate in. So to break up the monotony, I will often listen to podast’s in slack moments. My favorite has to be Steven Rinellas Meateater podcast, You probably know Steven from his television shows, but he is also a very well-known author with titles such as: The complete guide to hunting, butchering, and cooking wild game Volumes 1 and 2, American buffalo: In search of a lost icon, Meateater: Adventures from the life of an American hunter, The scavengers guide to Haute cuisine, as well as many more. It is a pretty fair assumption that Stevens Podcasts focus predominately upon hunting and fishing (right up my alley) but he also delves into such things as conservation and history, with guests as varied as environmental historian Dan Flores to UFC announcer and comedian Joe Rogan. This week, since I had already listened to all of the Meateater podcasts, I decided to look at the flip side of the coin by listening to a podcast put out by Joe Rogan aptly named “the Joe Rogan Experience” and I looked for an episode that Steven Rinella was a guest on (He has had him on the show A LOT!) Needless to say the podcast was much different in format and content then Meateater, but still just as entertaining. Mostly because the similarity of topics was on point with the guest, and both individuals are very intelligent. Extremely long story, made slightly shorter, a topic came up about the viability of social trends. In other words ” if we somehow had our minds completely erased of any knowledge that had been learned, and were dropped into a world that had never been touched by man what so ever, and were left with only our natural instincts, which social trends and behaviors would we “discover” a second time?” They came to the conclusion, that people would learn to hunt, fish and forage again, they would craft tools. People would probably learn to sing, and some form of writing would be created. They also decided that sagging your pants would have no possible chance of being created a second time (hopefully skin-tight girl pants would reach the same fate). But it really got me thinking. Some things at their truest form, have changed only slightly since inception, and in so, are these things of more value? My feeling is yes, but it also takes accepting a few things in order to establish their worth. Firstly, you have to accept that fact that something can be discovered or created in many different places at many different times, and still be the first of its kind. Secondly you have to accept that evolution of a given item due to gathered knowledge, and or material is still, in all reality the same item. Lets take the bow and arrow for example (or should we really say the arrow and the bow?) It looks as though the bow was invented somewhere around 6 different times, in 6 different locations, in 6 different time frames. “But how can that be, you can only invent something once, then after that it is just a re-creation, or copy, of the original right?” Well I guess that depends on your perspective.  But when artifacts are found in places thousands of miles apart, in time frames that are not reminiscent of those distances of travel (or possible without specialized transportation) , and the construction of those bows share very little in characteristic, it leads me to believe that more than one person identified a solution to a real problem and acted upon it. Either way, arrows, or should we call them “short fletched spears” have been around for much longer. Projectile points have been discovered in the Sibudu caves of South Africa, that they believe to be somewhere around 64,000 years old. As for North America, our oldest intact “arrow-head” is around 13,000 years old, but recent evidence “suggest” that the technology has been here for 15,000 years. Either way, the arrow wasnt invented first, the spear came before that, and before that people threw rocks. At some point in time, Paleo Joe picked up a rock to throw at some sort of tasty critter, and upon throwing it found himself bleeding. Upon further inspection Joe found that some kinds of stone break in a fashion that causes them to become sharp. Thus discovering knife technology. Projectile points are really just small double-edged knives after all right? In most of your pockets right now you probably have a refined version of that same 64,000 year old discovery. But knapping stone, to use to open up cardboard boxes, is a job best left to experts like Paleo Joe and the rest of our early age ancestors. As for me ill stick with banging steel like the Sons of Ivaldi lineage of the North.

Through writing these blogs, I have had to make a conscious effort to truly immerse myself in the topics that I care so much about and want to share with you. It has also helped me to expand my horizons and try new things in order to better understand how we have evolved our technologies to present day standards. Every time the forge gets fired up, and the steel is placed in those glowing embers, I feel a deep tie to all of those who came before me and laid hammer to anvil in pursuit of the same final goal. Crafting blades and tools is a skill that will always be a necessity no matter how technologically advanced we become. The same can be said for all the primitive activities that people choose to partake in. Tooling leather, foraging wild mushrooms, learning to temp a cutthroat trout with a dry-fly, or falling in love with the flight of the arrow. All of these things are timeless and pure, being only slightly tainted by the ease and convenience of modern-day. Call me nostalgic, but the less a craft has been modified from its original form, the more driven I am to learn it. Hell, I’m going to a trapping course next month and looking into a primitive taxidermy course in the near future. I enjoy these things, and as time goes by and as the World evolves I find myself desperately longing for the time before everything was easy. When knowledge was earned through hard work, experimentation, and a genuine need, and the fruits of your labors were truly built to last…

-Grant Willoughby 2/25/2018-

Completely Unfiltered?…

Were not talking hefeweizen, home-brew of even high-end organic cider vinegar… Were not talking about your creepy uncle that always wants to talk about “that one time he was stationed in Bangkok” when talking to a room full of second graders… Hell im not even talking about just being able to cater your conversation to match the company in a social gathering situation. I’m talking about a personal flaw that I have… It all came to a head many moons ago, in a meeting at the inception of what we have all come to know and love as “Post World Patriot“. It went a little something like this…

“Statistics show that people who read articles, watch videos or otherwise seek information want to be validated as to their choice’s when they choose to learn something… They want you to be an expert. Show them that you are an expert”. Anyone who has spent any amount of time with me knows that I strive to be a humble, simple man. In my eyes I can learn anything, from anyone, at any given point in time if I can only listen intently and have my B.S. filter cranked way up. I ain’t no damn fool, and I know the difference between piss down my back, and rain, but by the same token I have learned some pretty solid information, from some pretty unstable people. I dont command respect and attention paid, I feel that if you want information that I poses, you need only ask then listen to what I have to say. Here in lays my fault. I dont know everything, but I would say that I have a pretty wide wheelhouse (even saying that for me makes me feel pretty icky) when it comes to firearms, cartridges, and survival. I hear such a never-ending line of bullshit coming from some people’s mouths, that it becomes pretty hard to take at times, and being in my situation what am I to do? When standing at the ammo counter at a local gun shop just last weekend, I heard two fellas talking, “which ones should we get? Same ones as yesterday, or one of these other ones?” (they were looking at 5.56/.223 ammo by the way) Me being the person that I am say, “what are you shooting them out of?” (Valid question right?) “AR” was their only retort. “What rate of twist do you have on your barrel, different  twist rates will prefer different weights of bullets”. (Seems like im still trying to help these guys out right?) ” I don’t know, bought it here yesterday It’s a “D-somethin” put a scope on it, and it’s already the 2nd most accurate rifle I have. Shootin just under minute of angle no matter what I put in the magazine, and that’s just from bore-sighting it. My other rifle is a 6.5 Creedmore, bought it here last year, bore-sighted that one with a laser and was hitting steel chickens at 1000 yards in less than an hour, But that ammo is like $70 bucks a box when I reload it. This stuffs all just the same anyways!” “Anyone know who makes one of these “D-somethin” rifles? Del-Tron, Daniel Defense, Diamondback, Double Star, DPMS, DRD, DSArms, who knows, but hell they shoot everything and dont care what so ever. Just one hole. (Little known fact, unless you have a target that proves it, when you work behind a gun counter and a Dude claim’s one hole groups with anything at any distance, you immediately assume that they hit the target only once and missed the rest of times, and figures that he must have shot through the same hole every other time.) Nice guy me, just says, “sounds like you got one hell of a rifle, congrats” and my son and I walked away. I had had enough. 6.5 creedmore ammo was right behind him, average cost $24, even HSM ammo (which I highly recommend to anyone who doesn’t handload, Its great stuff and more accurate them most people are.) was only like 35 bucks,  LIES! I don’t care what caliber you shoot and who makes the rifle, a bullet isn’t a bullet, isn’t a bullet. Were not talking roses here! I have a buddy with a custom-built .375 ultra mag, he can (and has) shot prairie dogs out to over 300 yards with it, It wont even chamber Remington Ammunition. Not because Remington ammunition is by anyway sub-par, but because the ammo dimensions were just on the loose side of the dimension spectrum and the rifle is on the tighter side. AR rifles will shoot anything, but they don’t shoot everything well, and bore-sighting gets you on paper… at 25 yards! Sometimes a blind squirrel finds a nut, but let’s try to be honest here.

Maybe that should be my 3 week late, New Years resolution! You have heard of Project Filter, the website and program that gets people to quit smoking? Maybe I will just start my own called “Project Unfiltered”! (No I’m not going to try to get people to take up smoking.) I’ll make a group that helps people to eliminate their personal filters, for me it would be to create an ability to say “Hey Idiot, Your WRONG!”. Or “Hey dummy, in fact a .22 Hornet is not the best varmint caliber ever”! (I do love the hornet, and especially the K-Hornet), but it sure as hell isn’t a 22-250 or *GASP* the .220 SWIFT, were talking sharp sticks and light sabers for God’s sake. Maybe I will just chase down every butthole that tailgates my wife doing 35 in a 25 zone outside the school and give them a piece of my mind… That guy that you offer a beer to, and he says “I can’t drink (insert Budweiser or Coors), it gives me a headache” , I’ll just reply “it ain’t the first one that gives you a headache… it’s the 30th one. Dig around in your purse for a Midol, and ill try to find you some Zima’s!” How great would that be? But In all reality, I don’t think that is the correct recipe to build a better understanding of ourselves or each other, And we sure wouldn’t learn much. Maybe, once again, moderation is key… Anyone want to join my new therapy group “partially filtered”?

-Grant Willoughby  01/21/2018_

The opposite of virtual reality…

Everyone has eaten to the point of being miserable, but you have really outdone yourself this time. “jeeze hun, I’m pregnant, but your are the one that’s acting like you are eating for two!” your wife jokes as you gingerly leave the steakhouse. It was your Christmas party after all, and when they tell you its an open bar, and as much prime rib as you can eat, you’re going to take advantage of it. The whole evening had been a real escape from the normal day-to-day, Christmas had already passed, the kids have already forgotten the name of their elf on the shelf, and Mom and Dad finally have a night to themselves. But as you clear the last street light on your way through the parking lot that feeling hits you. You know the one, it feels like a wet, stinking blanket is suddenly suffocating you. “What the hell is going on” you think to yourself. You have felt this before but it was almost always directly after you had been scared… Close miss in a car wreck, that time you had got “a little turned around” in the woods, but why are you feeling it now? In a moment you realize what is happening. As the large shadow materializes from no where, you right hand searches desperately in your deep trouser pocket. “Where do you think your going” a gruff voice barks. At the same time your fingers find what they were searching for, your Smith & Wesson  Bodyguard 380. “Are you def? I said where do you think you are going” the voice grows more agitated. Now you can actually make out the shape that is harassing you. He is a large man, much larger then yourself. Probably six and a half feet tall, and somewhere between 250 and 300 pounds. It’s not his size that continues to worry you though, it is the fact that he is growing ever more hostile with you, and he has a large object in his hand. “Have I caught this guy breaking into cars, and now he wants to know what I have seen? Or has he been waiting this whole time for someone to walk past the protection of light so that he could rough them up for a few bucks?” you think to yourself. Then in a flash that question is answered for you. With surprising speed he bolts toward your wife, and you can tell from his intensity that he means business. In one fluid motion your pistol clears your pocket. No words are spoken as a lightning fast matched pair of pink edged holes appear dead center on the angry mans sternum as his body collapses. “Are you alright” you ask your wife as she runs to your embrace. Then it happens, the slumped over man stands back up, looks down at his bloody wounds and starts to laugh, ” a .380, you thought you would stop me with a itty bitty .380?” he exclaims as he continues towards you. Remembering the old Navy Captain who was in the South Pacific in World War II’s mantra, “Shoot until they change direction, change shape or catch on fire” you level your weapon, squeeze the trigger 4 more times, combat reload and put 7 more rounds of 90 grain Hornady FTX critical defense ammo directly in the same spot as the first two, but the assailant just keeps coming…

No wait, that’s not the story that I wanted to tell… it was the ” And that bull Elk stood broadside at 53 yards, I shot it 10 times (two whole mags worth) with 180 gr. Nosler Partitions and it just ran away, didn’t even slow it down. That gun will shoot, bumble bees of a daisy at 100 paces without even nicking a petal all day long…” No wait it was the  ” You only shoot Canadian geese when their flying away from you ya know? Goose feathers are so tough that your shot will just bounce off of them if you hit them any other way (…shot bounced off their feathers like hail stones…) . If you shoot them when they are flying away, your shot gets between the feathers and will actually kill em… Everyone knows that.” We have all heard the same stories, some more detailed and elaborate than others, but they all have about the same gist. No matter what the case is, somebody knows a guy that can either prove or disprove anything. It does not matter if times have changed, technology has advanced, or if there is undeniable evidence that unequivocally proves the idea wrong. Because they know someone who will tell you different (truth and misinformation be damned). So what does this bring us to, you might ask? Just a little thing that I like to call “Reality”. “Reality” for those of you that you don’t know, is this weird place that only exists for people who believe in it, and are willing to experience it on their own.  Do I believe that a .380 acp is the “perfect” self-defense caliber? Not a chance, but that’s not because I don’t believe it works, it’s because I believe that with my personal size and stature, I can carry something that can work better. If I wanted a pistol that I could hide while I’m wearing swim trunks or a wrestling singlet I would definitely carry one of the new micro sized .380’s. Why? Because all of the new research into better projectiles, better velocities, and better penetration tests tell me so. Do I think that a 300 pound dude can just soak up 15 rounds (two 7 round magazines and one in the pipe) of quality personal defense .380 ammo center mass and just keep attacking? I believe that just about as much as I believe that elk stand still for 2 magazines worth of shooting, that 180 gr. Partition .308 Winchester ammo can’t kill elk, and that goose feathers are bullet proof. Something inside my brain, be it from decompositional reasoning, or just plain ol’ “seeing is believing” interpretations, tells me that all of these generalities are false. Are their exceptions? You bet! But I don’t validate exceptions to establish my rules.

“Reality” is a strange place for those of you who decide to adventure there. No matter how much you learn, and how deep you explore, you will still have those that challenge your proof and facts. When someone scoffs at your .380 “mouse gun” saying it “isn’t big enough to do anything”, it would be pretty easy to explain to a  rational person that it is in fact the same size as a 9 mm. With reasonable loads it penetrates enough to pass the FBI’s penetration tests, and even the ones that open more aggressively still penetrate close to 10 inches, and how many people have a distance greater than 10 inches from sternum to spine anyways? But the kind of people who downplay any “extra” holes being placed in their body tend to not be of the rational mindset anyways. While you’re at it, tell them that .308 bullets only kill elk when you hit them, and if they really want to push the point about goose feathers being bullet proof, go ahead and make them some body armour out of two pillows and a comforter for Christmas next year. You will come out smelling like a rose on the deal and it will save you the argument. We live in such an instant society, where knowledge and proof is plainly displayed everywhere, and still it  boggles me that people knowingly perpetuate fallacies. But when I really think about it, it doesn’t surprise me. We have children that have never thrown a baseball, but they are World champions at it on the Wii, people will spend hours on an exercise bike, but the idea of riding an actual bicycle on an actual road is completely foreign to them. Have you seen the video of Virtual Ice fishing, people are spending literally thousands of dollars, to pretend to drill holes in ice and pretend to catch perch for Gods sake! Why not just go do it?  If that’s the world you choose to be a part of, you can keep your virtual reality, I will just stay in my happy little place where we seek knowledge and truth, and participate in the opposite of virtual reality.

-Grant Willoughby 01/07/2018-

Candy Coated

11 Days ago I had the privilege of becoming a father for the second time ( I know, I know, number 2 is gonna feel slighted every year because his birthday is piled in there with Christmas, what can I do about it now?) As exciting as a new rugrat is, I already have one son, and just because you get a new toy, doesn’t mean that you just go and forget about your old ones right? To make the whole situation work more smoothly, My oldest spent the 2 nights that we were in the hospital, having a sleepover at my parents house. All was going smoothly until day 2…. “His cough isn’t getting any better, probably need to take him in” my Mom’s voice said across the phone, “alright” I replied and scheduled an appointment. An hour later, I’m sitting with my son in his pediatricians office, and they are asking me to hold his arms down and his head back, they needed to swab his nose. (if you don’t have children, or have never had your nose swabbed (I have never had it done) let me tell you brother, it isn’t what you think it is? Me being oblivious, tell my son that they must need to use a q-tip to get a boog sample to test… Man I could not have been more wrong, it was like a Sucker Punch style frontal lobotomy with a trial sized chimney brush. As tough as my son is, and as much as he tried to hold it back, the tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. I felt bad, not because he had to have it done (sometimes we all have to do things that we don’t want to, or that are uncomfortable for us) but because I felt like I had lied to him. In all actuality, I had no idea what the procedure entailed. In so it would be impossible for me to lie to him without the intention to deceive. But either way he was hurt, which brings me to my point…

As much as I am all the things I write about, hunting and fishing, guns and knives, survival and prepping, I am also a father. With that privilege, comes a responsibility. It is my job to protect my children, to keep them safe, lead them in the right direction and to instill in them what is right. Tell the truth, be honest, be trustworthy. Therein lies the problem: Sometimes you have to spread the truth pretty thin in order to protect your children. You, much like myself, have made a conscious decision to be an active link in your own survival plan. I would say that a reasonable percentage of you carry some sort of personal protection every day, do your children know why? Like exactly why? My son knows that I carry because I want to be able to protect myself, my family, and those that cannot protect themselves. I don’t feel the need to tell him that the average police response time is around 10 minutes, or that there is an ever-growing drug culture that surrounds us where (especially in the Northwest) meth is a running rampant. So why don’t I feel the need to paint those gory pictures of scabby, toothless zombies who will stop at nothing to get their fix, trying to break into your home, while you wait 10 minutes for police to arrive to my 6-year-old son? Because he is a CHILD, children should have the ability to stay children and deal with child issues for as long as possible. One day you are riding bikes around the neighborhood, trying to make it home before the streetlights come on, eating lunchables, drinking Capri sun, and hoping to get a new Nintendo game for your birthday. The next you are worrying about financial responsibility, insurance, public school standards, high blood pressure, the list goes on and on. Why would you want a child to start their adult worrying before that time has come? Yes my son knows that I may have a “few” more rounds for my firearms then most “normal” people, but he thinks it’s because I love to hunt and shoot (And he’s right) he doesn’t really need to know that I have first hand knowledge about ammo shortages, back-door gun control, and the potential of  a collapse of civilization. Hearing both explanations, I would rather live believing the first explanation too. You want your children to start preparing for their future at an early age? Teach them how to cook, put them in a first aid class, teach them the value of a hard days work and callused hands. As tempting as it is to train your 7-year-old daughter how to properly execute “Mozambique drills” or  how to start a fire with her own urine, remember that they are only children and need to be eased into the level of awareness that we have chose. I doubt that Mattel is ever going to liscense a “Barbies first bunker” kit, and thats probably for good reason.

It is a pretty scary world out there, and there are times when I wish that I could go back to the lifestyle of a child. I am still known to knockdown a juicebox and a bag of smiley face fruit snacks on occasion.  I still like to sit back and watch “a Christmas story” come December and remember the excitement of Santa’s arrival. Yet no matter how hard I try, I cannot take myself all the way back, I already know too much of this adult life. That is why I am careful to hold my tongue around the kiddos about my “adult” life,  and why I sometimes “waterdown” the truth a little bit with them in order to make it easier for them to swallow. They will turn around a couple times and be in the same place I am, and longing for the lost innocense of their youth. What kind of father would I be if I try to speed them through the greatest years of their lives? And even as we grow to ripe old ages, it is important to not forget the excitement and wonder of our youth, and how nice it was to have things a little “candy coated”.

Happy New Year.

-Grant Willoughby 12/31/2018-

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year…”

Some people (who I am sure grew up with a last name of Rockefeller, Carnegie, or Vanderbilt) absolutely love Christmas. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not Bah humbug-poo-pooing Christmas or thinking of converting to Judaism ( 8 days of it?), I’m just stating the facts that “the season of giving” has become something very different  in the minds of most Americans. But still, all truth be told, I actually really enjoy this time of year! Having a six-year-old everything related to Christmas becomes magical, from Santa’s key placed on the door (it still trip’s me out that I tell my son not to talk to strangers, and definitely not to let them into our home… But then tell him that some dude from out-of-town (Santa), that no one has ever seen (STRANGER DANGER!), is given an open invite to enter one night a year and that I am totally ok with it?..Kind of feels like the frame-work for “The Purge” movie’s (plus or minus a few things) if you ask me). Then you have all of the crazy Shenanigans that his Elf on the shelf gets into. (Once again, seems a little counterproductive that Santa sends an elf to make sure that children are behaving… Then the elf just runs amok, doing things that would get real children beat. Don’t believe me, click that link above and see what some have been filmed doing, Just make sure the kiddo’s aren’t looking.) Even Snow is magical to a child, what we see as a trip to the chiropractor and slippery driving conditions, they see a winter wonderland where every white flake is not only edible, but also the beginning of the perfect snowman. Every decorated house they see is a magical dancing light castle with neon icicles, we see it as a strong chance of falling off of a ladder and elevated electrical bills. The sad part to me is that we (as adults) have a very strong tendency to push our thoughts upon our children, even if subconsciously. We gets stressed about the cost of the holidays, and in so our children do the same. We feel the need to keep up with social standards of high cost gift giving, and that becomes the baseline for what our children expect. A set of statistics collected from American households shows that in 2017 people are planning on spending $54 more than they did in 2016 on christmas gifts. $983 dollars as compared to $929 last year.  Who the hell can afford that? Even if you can, why would you want to “Push” that sentiment about the season into your children’s idea of what the season is all about? We all had those moments when we were in elementary school where you would head back after Christmas break and the first question from every kids mouth wass “What did Santa bring you?” You would be excited, and reply “Santa brought me a bike”, to which the other child would reply “Oh! (long pause) Well Santa brought me a snowmobile and a Nintendo 64, and a unicorn…” What the Hell! You knew damn well that kid deserved coal, like bags and bags of the stuff. It was probably a big conspiracy anyway, where the kids rich parents bought every coal mine in existence, just so that Santa couldn’t give any of it to their children… Then they were probably paying the elves to work in the family owned sweat shop in the off-season to squeeze the coal into diamonds! Nothing has changed, and kids are experiencing the same exact things today. It matters more what they got and what they have, then what the gave and who they are. So what’s the answer? Man, If i knew that I would write a book and become a millionaire…

…But here is what I think… All people are blessed in one way or another, Some can cook, some can paint, some can write. (if you know one of those people, send me their number, I could sure use the help) No matter what you have led yourself to believe, you are good at something, and no matter what it is… Your children look up to it, and wish that they could do the same. (Given if you can drink more than anyone in town I don’t recommend that you buy your 9-year-old a moonshine still, but I think you get the point.) Since I hunt and fish, my son wants to hunt and fish. I love to camp, now he does too. By catering to these interests, you are actually guaranteeing the opportunities to enjoy your relationship together while participating in them.  Want to blow your kids minds? Most companies ask their employees to put in their vacation requests right after the first of the year, (which just so happens to be right after Christmas). Instead of giving your child (or any loved one for that matter) some gift under the tree that they won’t remember next year, try taking a piece of paper and writing 4 simple things on it, place it in a box with a picture frame, wrap it up in a big old box and put it under the tree…



Your name:                                                             Approved by:                                                        

They will surely be confused as to what it means, (and you probably are too at this point) but it’s pretty simple. It’s a family get away request, you are allowing your child to pick what the vacation will be that year. Kids are a lot more perceptive then you think, and more likely than not, they already know your financial situation. You may think they will write “Disneyland” every year but you may be surprised at what they would really like to do instead, and how understanding they are of family limitations. If given the opportunity my son would much rather go fishing and camping, then drive 16 hours to stand in line for 12 hours to ride 3 rides. Let them pick what you will do, and where they would like to go. Let them pick what to eat and what to drink, Yes, you may end up eating hotdogs, maccaroni and cheese and drinking yoo-hoo for 3 meals a day, but in all reality is that really all that bad? Most importantly, take lots of pictures on your adventure. Pick the best one and put it into the picture frame you gave with the gift. Mount it on the wall, and  I bet they won’t forget all the excitement or what they got last year. Especially with a glossy 8″ x 10″ to remind them.  Plus it creates a tradition that can be repeated no matter what is going on for the other 51 weeks out of the year.

Personally, I will have a very different Christmas this year, My second son is only 10 days away from being born, and when all goes well, we will be home 3 days before Christmas. As I type, our elf is currently zip-lining down a set of christmas lights, Santa’s key is on the back of the door, the tree is lit and the boy is trying his hardest to only do bad stuff where Griswald (the elf) can’t see. As for me, I’m just gonna let him see all of it, maybe I’ll try to cap the year off with a few extra demerits on Santa’s naughty list… I have a couple idea’s for projects I’d like to bang out on the forge, and a little extra coal never hurts.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays,

-Grant Willoughby and the Willoughby family, 12/10/2017-

Perpetuate the sanctity of the harvest.

It’s been a long morning, and it isn’t even close to over yet. The light dusting of snow has made the world brighter, yet you know that it is far to early to get out of the truck and venture forth into this frigid November day in pursuit of your intended target. Venison! You look over at your partner in crime, this time it is your oldest boy. You know it was the right decision, being 13 and all, he has already reaped the delicious rewards of hard work and dedication, and he deserves it again. Taking a short swig of scalding coffee from the thermos you steal a glance at him. He’s a good-looking kid, smart, caring, every parents dream. You know that soon enough he will be away at college, and you will be all alone on these early morning voyages. But even that doesn’t pardon him from a little ribbing from Dad. “Get your eyes off that damn phone, and pay attention to what’s going on around you. I know it’s early but that doesn’t mean theres nothing to see, If I wanted to babysit I would have brought your little sister along!” He flashes back a smile, and turns the screen off on his phone. Conversation’s carry on like they always do, school, grades, sports and girls, spoken softly to pass the time. “You know”, you pause as you start one of those “Dad stories” you promised yourself you would never tell… “I wasn’t that much older than you the first time I met your mother…” “Dad wait, did you see that?” he questions you intently. You shake your head, signaling that you had not. You try to focus your attention without getting tunnel vision in the early morning gloom. You remind yourself to look for movement more than anything else… Out of the corner of your eye you finally see it. “That’s our boy right there” you whisper to your son as you nod out the left side of your snow covered windshield. In an instant he is trying desperately to open the passenger side door, power door lock have a hell of a way of  reminding people they have to stay patient. You take a look at your watch 9:25 A.M. “5 minutes kiddo then it’s game time.” As clockwork always does, the last moments crept by the slowest, then in a second everything changes, the lights come on, and neither of you can control your excitement. Both doors fly open in an instant, looking like mouse traps wired in reverse. The cold wind tears at your previously warm checks and the snow obscures your vision. You try to keep your footing on the icy ground, and make your way quickly and quietly toward your intended prey. As you silently slide into position, you ask your son if he is ready? “I been waiting for a whole year Dad, I’m definitely ready for this”. You smile, knowing exactly how he feels, and in one quick motion you open the door and you are greeted by warm air and the smell of curly fries. Arby’s has the Meats, and for a limited time… The Venison too!

Before you instantly hit that back button on your web browser, thinking that this a shameless plug for a fast food chain and wondering why you waste 15 minutes of your Sunday pilfering though my nutball half-baked theories about how rifles are more accurate than shooters, my love for 10 round ar-15 mags, and my infatuation with snow, hear me out. The Montana Wildlife Federation (WMF) has written a letter to the corporate offices of Arby’s expressing their displeasure with Arby’s decision to sell “Wild game” sandwiches. In case you didn’t see it last year, Arby’s broke ground in the overpriced not good for you food market by selling venison sandwiches in a few select (read 5 states, 17 restaurants) locations, that they believed were “prime” for such a sandwich. Problem was the demand was much larger than the supply, and they sold out quick! So being a caring company, (sorry I just gagged on sarcasm) Arby’s decided to re-release the sandwiches this year on October 21st in 3,300 locations nationwide, and if you are lucky enough to live in the states of  Montana, Wyoming or Colorado there is also an elk option. So why does Montana give two rips if Arby’s sells a wild game sandwich you might ask? Well first of all it’s not “wild game”, “wild game” cannot be sold in the United States, only “farm raised games animals” can. But they doesn’t have the ring of “wild game” does it? “This runs counter to Montana’s fair-chase hunting values by encouraging the commercialization of a public wildlife resource.” thats a direct quote from the letter, seems pretty solid to me. So where does this “venison” come from you may ask? Well it would be almost IMPOSSIBLE to procure enough deer meat from domestic markets, in so Arby’s has this “farm rased game meat” sent in from New Zealand. (outsource anyone?) Another fear of the department (which is why the community voted in the year 2000 to make new commercial farming of wild game animals illegal in their state) is “concerns about unethical captive shooting activities and the spread of disease”. (Which makes sense, wild birds don’t have salmonella, only domesticated birds do.) And as to “unethical shooting activities” I think we can all find a commen ground in undestanding that “some people” are so intoxicated with the idea of  their name in a record book, that they may be “persuaded” into pen raising an animal, filling it with whatever they can in order to promote giant horn growth, and harvesting it, only to later claim it as a potential State or World record. Some peoples kids right?

What do I think? Well if someone lives in an area where they may potentially never get to try deer meat (I don’t know where this place is, and if I ever hear of this place I will avoid it like the plague) or if a person lives in a family where hunting is considered  “savage” and “not needed in this modern civilization” (they probably live in that place where they can’t try deer meat) then I think it is nice that they will be able to try a “tamed” down version of the real thing. If someone has never tried game meat, and after trying these sandwiches they become an active part of wildlife conservation ( Remember the Pittman-Robertson act? The one that guarantees that a 11 percent of firearm and ammo sales goes directly back to that states wildlife management. Fishing and hunting liscences go directly back into the state too.) then thats also great. But it isn’t “wild game”, and it will never have the same appeal as an animal that lived free and was harvested in its own enviroment, with fair chase ethically. If you have never ate a rear inner tenderloin from a deer so fresh it hasen’t hit room temperature yet, you haven’t lived. Chicken is great, but it can’t hold a candle to the flavor of a freshly harvested grouse breast pan fried in a cast iron skillet over an open fire. Last night I made grilled stuffed burritos with cilantro rice, black beans, jalapeno, bacon, and pan seared widgeon and gadwall that I harvested, cleaned and cooked myself. (Don’t tell Chipotle grill, or it may be on the menu next week!) Wild game gains flavor with time, both in the aging process, and in the persuit of the animal. No commercialized politically correct version of “wild game” can ever compete with the real thing, and the memories of hunting with friends and family will far outweigh the memories of eating a damn sandwich. Sorry, its just the facts.

-Grant Willoughby 11/05/2017-

We really need to stop…

It happens every year… Thanksgiving day, around 2 o’clock the old man backs into his drive way in that old Ford pickup. He gets out gingerly, retrieving his ancient .32 Winchester special from the gun rack in the back window, and continues his stroll towards the front door. Several minutes later with youngin’s in tow , the garage door raises and he gently lowers the tail gate. “That old man did it again” you mutter to yourself in a tone you hope will be quiet enough to disguise the jealousy in your voice. You look over to your wife, “I don’t know how he does it? He hunts one day a year, leaves at 6 A.M., returns home in time to carve the bird, and always gets a buck. What’s he doing that I’m not? I think he borrowed that rifle from Jesus for Petes sake.”  Your wife just smiles and goes back to tending the gravy, and mashing potatoes.

With a World that has become entirely structured by political correctness, it amazes me that we still do it, but we really need to stop, and we need to stop it now!.. Stop Caliber shaming! It’s not just black rifle calibers that matter, ALL calibers matter! In being a red-blooded ‘Merican, and collecting a paycheck working for a beer distributer, its pretty easy to guess that I work with a lot of dudes who love to hunt… And every person that slings up a rifle and heads out looking for backstraps and glory, has their own personal preference as to what the best critter getter caliber is. I do too, but one thing that I learned selling firearms is that people like to tell you why their opinion is right for them, and why every other option is wrong, and boy do those conversations ever get heated. Just yesterday I had a guy tell me that this year he is actually hunting with a “REAL” gun, he finally got rid of that .270 Win, and got himself a “THREE-HUNDRED”. After asking him which of the “three-hundreds” he got, (remember, there is a .300 H&H, .300 Winchester, .300 Winchester short mag, .300 Weatherby, .300 Remington ultra mag, and even the .300 Savage for that matter.) After determining that he had acquired a .300 Win mag, I asked him why he felt so compelled to get rid of the .270? “.270’s a girl gun, and ain’t good for killing nothin’ except for maybe a doe or something. Two years ago I took a shot at a buck at like 300 yards with it, and it just don’t have enough power to put something down at that range. Last year I shot a buck four times and didn’t even kill it.” Well I’ll be damned, I own a .270, I had better just run right down and trade it in. The .270 Winchester is just garbage right?.. I mean who wants a damn girl gun, that can’t shoot 300 yards, and is incapable of both killing bullet proof deer or automatically adjusting for both windage and elevation in order to make up for your poor shooting ability? Who cares that Jack O’Connor (who was a man) traveled all around the World killing the hell out of everything (the list does not only include “does”) with one? Who cares that the caliber was in fact created to be used on big game animals at long ranges (some sources even claiming up to 1000 yards) All that means nothing, because “I know a guy”… We have all heard mis-information fairytale’s start the exact same way. You know what they say about opinions and excrement holes… Hell, I knew an old-timer who lived in Whitefish Montana, he bought a Winchester Model 70 chambered in the .243 Winchester in 1955 (the first year of the calibers inception) He proceeded to shoot everything (and I do mean everything) that lives in Montana, from marmots, to mountain goats and moose, a 100 grain .243 bullet displaced everything just fine. Does that mean that it is the perfect do all caliber? For him it was.

Lets be honest here, There are a TON of calibers, and if given the opportunity I would own one firearm in every one of them. Why? Because I appreciate all of them for what they are, and don’t condemn them for what they are not. I think that the .17 Remington is one pretty stinking sweet varmint round, would I want to use it to kill an elephant? Nope. I understand its limitations in the same way that I don’t want to hunt coyotes with a .460 Weatherby (ok maybe I wouldn’t “mind” blasting a yote with a 500 grain bullet at 2600 fps for around 7,504 foot pounds of energy just one time 😉 ) There is a right tool for every job, but a skilled craftsmen can make up slightly for inferior tools with exceptional skill. (Noah built the ark… He didn’t own a laser guided sliding compound miter saw or anything.) No amount of “ballistic chart” hype can make up for lousy shooting. As for calibers, any round developed with the idea of taking “said” size animal will do a pretty amazing job at it if you do your part. Be it the now long forgotten .250 Savage (otherwise known as the .250-3000, because it was the first American made cartridge that achieved 3000 fps) or the 8mm Remington magnum (most people would only know this round as the parent cartridge of the 7mm Shooting Times Westerner, which according to Kris, when you shoot the STW, you don’t “call your shots”, you “file a flight plan with the FAA”) each round has a place in the particular set of hands, and in the hearts of those that choose it as their preferred weapon. Just because you don’t select it as yours, doesn’t mean that it has no use.

-Grant Willoughby 10/22/2017-


As the rain pitter-patter’s on the steel roof of my humble abode, I sit here quietly wishing that it was 12 degrees colder outside… I know what you are thinking, and no I’m not going to do chapter 2 of “Can you feel the nip in the air?” even though it would be a great idea. More so this blog is to be one centered around something that is quite contradictory. Y’all need to unplug.

We all know that I am the master of contradiction, I wrote about how great AR-15’s were when I didn’t even own one (even though I had shot PLENTY, and sold literally hundred’s of them), then when I finally pull the trigger and purchase one, I haven’t written anything about them since… I write about the benefits of carrying a sidearm as the centralized part of your EDC kit, then someone see’s me out in public armed with only a knife for personal protection. What sacrilege… Am I a hypocrite? I sure don’t think so, I prefer to take Kris’s stand point of accepting the challenge of bringing a knife to a gunfight every once in a while. I don’t feel that you come to our Post World Patriot page to hear us chatter nothing but tacticool jargon all the time. If that is what you’re looking for, there are plenty of web pages that do just that. Hopefully none of the other members of PWP will take an exception to the fact that I am speaking for them, but I feel the need to. We are not the stereotypical firearm/ survival/ tactical website. We don’t take the position of being elitists when it comes to everything that we do, You can call it whatever you want, but I call it a breath of fresh air in an industry that has become stale in topic. ” I only use a thumb forward modified C-grip while shooting my Gen III Noveske N6 Switchblock, I refuse to place my cheek upon anything that wasn’t made in Grants Pass, Oregon by John Noveske” Blah, Blah, Blah, nobody cares! Ok, I take that back, obviously someone does or else those pages wouldn’t exist (or be so popular). That just isn’t us. Sure we could just regurgitate info that we read in the coolest gun magazines, but if you wanted that info you would probably just buy that magazine. At least if you read the article you’re getting the information from the person that actually did the testing. There are lots of “Google degree” graduates out there, I’m just not one of them. Sure I will read up on a thing or two in pursuit of knowledge and understanding, but until I have busted my knuckle on “that” difficult bolt, or until I have personally shot that “particular” rifle, with that “particular” optic, I don’t feel I should be the one who stands at the altar and passes judgement on it. If you don’t experience these things yourself, than you really don’t know, your just taking someone elses word for it. There is only one way to truly gain that knowledge (Let the contradictions begin)… Turn the computer and phone off, and step out into the world and experience them! Yes I know that you read this on some sort of internet enabled device, and by all means keep visiting our page and reading our blogs, but on the flip side of that coin start doing some intimate research on your own. It amazes me that 6-year-old children know every function on an Iphone, but don’t know how to tie a fisherman’s knot. The ability to have patience and actually wait for something is nonexistent, and doing things the “old” or “traditional” way is being forgotten before we ever have a chance to teach it. It’s not just the wee-lads in elementary schools either, I work with guys in there 20’s who have never written a check for God’s sake! Everything has always been electronic for them, electronic payments and electric deposits… Instant oatmeal and instant messenger… Do you remember the last time that you hand wrote a letter and mailed it old school,  like with a stamp and the whole nine yards? People still do it I promise you. Remember when you listened to the radio and sometimes waited all day to hear that new song that you like? Not now, you can instantly listen to that song all 3 times that it takes for you to grow tired of it, all from your phone. Some of these guys have never bought a CD… I use to buy cassette tapes man, you put it in and had to listen to the whole thing or become a fast finger clairvoyant in order to guess just how much fast forward or rewind you needed in order to hear your favorite Skidrow song twice in a row.  The struggle was real!

What we write about are the things that we have experienced in our lives, and with experience comes knowledge. I have learned a lot while having a 6-year-old Son around the house. On any given day I need to be proficient in all forms of toy repair, I may be called upon to proform most basic medical procedures, all while being a caring father and still being able to identify the telltale signs that he is spending way to much time in front of the television or on his tablet. You cannot be scared to tell those you care about to get off their damn phone. “But they get bored”, do something about it, get them up and out of the boredom. Try this experiment: Take one day out of the weekend, unplug your TV, turn the data off on all the phones, cook an honest homemade breakfast (lately we have been doing some great fruit and oatmeal variations that have become favorites. No instant oats allowed!) After breakfast, pick a project that can be proformed around the house in a timely manner (if tools are involved most kids will instantly want to help) and when the work is done… Go have some fun! Kick it old school, load up the fam and take a ride into the woods lookin for critters, or grab a dozen night crawlers and head out to the lake. Build a snowhill, or jump in that pile of leaves that you worked so hard to rake up. Drink hot cocoa (with marshmellows). Take time and enjoy all of the moments.  you will be amazed at how quickly your day has passed and how much fulfilment you got from it. Days like this have amazing rejuvinating abilities, Its funny how sometimes the only way to recharge your batteries is to completely unplug from the system.

-Grant Willoughby 10/14/2017-

Trust Issues…

Maybe I’m a bit cynical, but each day I become more leery of the people around me. Maybe it is just something that comes with age. We all know that you can’t trust a skinny cook, (seriously if you were to walk into a restaurant and have the choice between eating a signature dish prepared by Guy Fieri (who from the looks of things, would eat gravy on cupcakes) or by Giada de Laurentiis (who would double her weight by eating half a tic-tac) which meal would you pick? I know who’s got my ticket.) I know you can’t trust used car salesmen (unless you are a used car salesmen, and if so… Where the hell were you when I was looking for the wifes van huh? You could have changed my view of your whole sub-species!) You don’t trust unfamiliar dogs, thin ice, people s turn signals, carny’s, or deals that seem to good to be true. Hell, I don’t even trust a dude who claims to be a hunter, yet does not recall what weight bullets they sling outta their pea-shooter. But that isn’t really what I’m trying to talk about with this blog. My trust issues are rooted in something way deeper then getting swindled by a carny (rat bastards spraying Pam into the ashtrays so my dime slips out). What worries me is that people have decided that being an individual, is more important than saying and doing what is right. When you flip on the TV that is all that you see. Don’t even get me started on sports…

My youth was spent trying to convince myself that I was an athlete, I played every sport that I could sign up for, 12 months out of the year. When I finally made it to a level where they actually played the National Anthem before our sporting events, I could not have been more proud to remove my helmet and place my hand over my heart. It made me feel like I was a professional , it made me proud to be an American, it is the right thing to do and it was a little way of saying thank you to our Country for the ability to participate in such activities. Obviously that is not how a lot of athletes feel now… All this crap started way back in 2016 when Colin Kaepernick decided the best way to show that he felt black individuals were being oppressed would be to sit during the National Anthem. How the two correlate is completely beyond me, peacefully protest all you like, but why would you feel the need to do it during the National Anthem for God’s sake?  If you feel that you are being treated poorly, by all means express your displeasure with the situation, but do so in a way that will help create solutions to the problem, at the same time not create other problems as a byproduct. Now I feels as though people are deciding to kneel or stay in the locker room during the Anthem because it is the “cool” and “politically correct” thing to do… I think it’s all a bunch of crap, and to expect 100% participation ( either by participating in the protest, or by rising for the National Anthem) by the coaching staff, and owners is just absurd. Just do whats right! People, as being very privileged American citizens (if you really don’t think that we are all privileged, try pulling any of the stunts that you get away with under the protection of our Constitution, in any other Country… Just saying.) should feel some sort of pride in their Country, and in their ability to have a voice. Not everyone around the world has that same ability, and we should be thankful. I guess I just don’t trust anyone who is so quick to stand behind the protection of the First Amendment, but refuses to actually stand for the physical symbol that represents this Countries freedoms, and it’s Constitution that guarantees them that right.

Each day , we all have the ability to play the cards that we are dealt. We have the choice to make the most of our resources. We have the choice in how we carry ourselves and how we do business. We have the choice to teach our children right from wrong. We have the choice to pay homage to our Forefathers, and to all of the soldiers that have sacrificed so much for our freedom. Ultimately “We The People” have been tasked with writing the history books of tomorrow with the choices that we make today. No one can decide what is right for you, or tell you which direction is your “True North”. It is up to you to decide how you would like to be remembered, and what your pages in that history book will say that you represented. But as for me and mine, I will teach my Son (soon to be Son’s) the difference between right and wrong, I will teach them to be honest and hard-working. I will teach them to love with all of their heart and be compassionate. I will teach them to stand for whats right, even if they are standing alone… And speaking of standing; We will continue to stand whenever the flag is raised. Not because we have to, but because it is the RIGHT thing to do. You can put your trust in that.

-Grant Willoughby 10/8/2017-

America, Second Amendment, Everyday Carry, Survival, Preperation, First aid

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