I’ve got such a big Dad Crush. I don’t know that I’ve ever had a Dad Crush before. What I mean by Dad Crush is a crush on a man you think fits the “ideal dad” model - the guy you envision as being the ultimate dad. Now “ultimate dad” will vary from person to person, but Carlo is my “ultimate dad” Dad Crush.
Many of you know I’ve been taking NRA handgun training classes at a local gun range. (insert politically correct judgments here) Carlo is one of the classroom instructors and he’s also the person who works with me individually on the shooting range. Like many of the instructors there, Carlo is a retired law enforcement officer. He used to chase down drug traffickers on the open water and he’s got that bearing about him that makes you a little nervous and afraid. The first night of class was all in-class instruction, no shooting. When Carlo was teaching and talking about the stupid things people do, he made me laugh out loud and giggle like a school girl when he said things like, “Gun control is a steady hand.” When two men in the class began mumbling sexist comments about women, Carlo stopped the class and went off on an aside about how women are better shooters because they are better students. He told us this would be obvious once we got out on the range. This made me feel worlds better about things.
At the end of the first class, we had to practice loading and unloading revolvers and semi-automatics. Carlo was the instructor who had to approve our loading, unloading, and clearing of the semi-automatics. I was so nervous when it was my turn to demonstrate that my hands were sweating and I couldn’t get a good enough grip on the slide to pull it all the way back. In my haste and embarrassment, I said I wasn’t strong enough. Carlo assured me that I was strong enough, but that I was thinking too hard about what I was doing. He told me. “It’s a quick motion you have to practice. It’s a PushPull. Push with your right hand and pull with your left. PushPull. PushPull.” He handed the gun back to me and I did it the first try. PushPull. My left thumb and fingers on the slide and the web of my right hand around the backstrap. PushPull. PushPull.
During the second class, I was definitely nervous when I realized I’d be working with Carlo individually on the range. Not only did I want to avoid looking like an idiot, I didn’t want to let him down. Carlo picked out an old Smith & Wesson M10 .38 Special for me to use. Right away he put me at ease by telling me he has three daughters, right around my age, and that they are all better shots than he is. He showed me the gun and described it’s nuances like the light trigger and low-profile sights. He had me load it and then begin firing. I actually did really well and he had me keep going until I went through the box of ammo. He had me fire the gun in single-action and double-action mode and he taught me how to stage the hammer until I was ready to fire. With his steady guidance, I was able to shoot several rounds into the same hole on the target several different times. He called it a “triple kiss” and bragged to the other instructors about it. He pulled the target back in so we could take a closer look at it. He held the paper target up against his chest and, pointing at the pattern of bullet holes, he said, “You see this? If I come into your house uninvited, I’m not going to be able to cook you dinner. Nice work.”
When we went back into the classroom, the other women in the class lit up their targets in the same way I did. The only two people in the class with their shots scattered all over the place were the two sexist assholes, just like my Dad Crush implied would happen.
My Dad Crush makes me speak in superlatives: “Carlo is the funniest.” “Carlo is the nicest.” “Carlo makes the most sense.” “Carlo is the best teacher.” I’ve noticed when I talk about him, my friends are starting to give me that look like, “Uhm…that’s great.” I think they’re just a tad jealous because my Dad Crush is the nicest and funniest and best Dad Crush ever.
