Sweet Georgia Barbecue
Columbus, Georgia. I was eating at a barbecue joint not far from the state line. My cousin, John, insisted that this joint serves the best barbecue in the state of Georgia. He made me promise to try it.
Americana
I’m sorry Honey, this M14 followed me home! Can I keep it?
Nearly 750,000 U.S. M14 rifles were destroyed after the Cold War, many meeting their end at Anniston Army Depot in the jaws of a hydraulic shear known as “Captain Crunch.” Now, history is taking a different path. Beginning in January 2027, the CMP expects to offer permanently converted semi-automatic M14s to qualified Americans for under $2,000. Every rifle sold preserves a piece of American military history while helping fund junior shooting programs, Camp Perry, scholarships, and the future of competitive marksmanship. Sometimes, the best way to honor history isn’t to put it in a museum—it’s to put it back on the firing line.
The Evergreen Tree: When a Pine Became a Warning Label for Tyrants
Long before Americans argued about flags on social media, our ancestors managed to make a tree politically dangerous. Britain reserved many of New England’s great white pines for the Royal Navy—even trees growing on colonial lands—marking them with the King’s Broad Arrow. The pine became a symbol of something much bigger: ownership, natural rights, independence, and the stubborn belief that free citizens had both the right and responsibility to defend their country. That’s why an evergreen ended up beneath the words “AN APPEAL TO HEAVEN.”
Before GPS, CAD, and LiDAR: The Guys With Chains Who Built Geometry Into the Earth
Before GPS, CAD, drones, and LiDAR, American military engineers were laying out massive forts with astonishing geometric precision using little more than chains, optical instruments, pencils, and a serious command of mathematics. Fort Wayne’s remarkable symmetry raises an irresistible question: brilliant engineering—or something more mysterious? From star-fort battlefield geometry to Freemasonry’s famous obsession with the square and compass, we separate the fascinating history from the conspiracy theories. The conclusion may be even more humbling: the old guys were really freaking good at math.
The Woman Who Tried to Die
It happened in Washington, the Evergreen State. It was late. There was a woman about to kill herself. She was young. Standing on the ledge of an overpass. Holding a stuffed animal. Hair blowing in all directions. She was really going to do it.
The 6mm Creedmoor: Everything the 6.5 Manbun Wishes It Was.
**Excerpt**
What started as a clever wildcat experiment has become one of the hottest cartridges in precision shooting. The 6mm Creedmoor delivers blistering speed, flat trajectories, and remarkably light recoil—all while launching sleek, high-ballistic-coefficient bullets that shrug off the wind. From PRS to the growing world of CMP AR Tactical, competitors are discovering that the 6mm Creedmoor isn’t just another Creedmoor—it’s a cartridge built to stay on target, spot its own impacts, and stack X-rings. For many shooters, it’s turning the AR-10 into a laser beam where others are still shooting slingshots.
Uncle Sam’s Children
I was late for a plane when I saw him. The freckled kid was in uniform. Operational camouflage combat fatigues. Reverse-flag patch on the right shoulder. High and tight haircut.
George Patton’s Secret Weapon Wasn’t a Tank—It Was Faith
Before the skies cleared over the Battle of the Bulge, General George S. Patton didn’t call for another committee meeting—he called for a chaplain. While modern America places its faith in technology, data, and bureaucracy, Patton believed victory required something more. He prepared relentlessly, commanded fearlessly, and then bowed his head in prayer. Days later, the weather broke, Allied aircraft filled the skies, and Patton pinned a Bronze Star on the chaplain who had written the famous weather prayer. Whether you call it coincidence or providence, one of America’s greatest generals never apologized for believing that faith belonged on the battlefield alongside tanks, artillery, and courage.
Of Life and Heinz Ketchup
I miss glass bottles. I come from a generation of glass. And therein lies a fundamental difference between my generation and the current one.
A Woman Named Honey
Her name is Honey. She is in the meet-and-greet line after one of my shows. She holds one of my books. White hair. Tiny frame. Maybe five-foot.
Buckle Up, Buttercup
We love to celebrate the Greatest Generation—but would we recognize the world that forged them? As global tensions rise and America’s factories quietly prepare for contingencies once thought impossible, one question looms: if Detroit ever trades pickup trucks for artillery shells again, are we ready for what comes next? Buckle up, buttercup. History has a habit of collecting unpaid debts.
Phone Withdrawals
My first week owning a dumb phone has been, well, dumb. In fact, it’s been so uneventful, I’m not totally sure what to do with myself.
Dear You, Whoever You Are
You’re going through something right now. Something bad. Something truly, inexplicably, wholly, and everlastingly crappy.
I don’t know what it is. But it’s ugly. And it’s getting the best of you.
The Rainbow Bridge
A little boy walked into the little church, unannounced. It was a weekday. A country church. Clapboards. Tin roof. The kind of church that—until a few years ago—only had window-unit A/C.
Lessons From a Goldfish
I have no children. The closest I ever came to having a child was when my wife got me a goldfish for Christmas. His name was Gary.
My New “Dumbphone”
My phone finally arrives in the mail. It’s small. Ugly. It’s “dumb.” And it looks like it was invented during the Herbert Hoover administration.
Shaking Your Butt
How did I get here? What career path led me to this moment? Why am I onstage, before several hundred, shaking my fundaments?
The William Penn Overture
I like Pennsylvania. They’re nice here. They say “yous” and “yinz” and “soda pop.” They have Appalachian manners, a steelman’s work ethic, and potholes big enough to swallow Peterbilts.
How to be a Real Columnist
Here is how the typical morning of a columnist goes. You sit down at the computer. And before you write, you begin by asking yourself the age-old question, “Why should anyone care what I have to say?”
The CMP: America’s Quiet National-Security Insurance Policy
The Civilian Marksmanship Program is more than a shooting organization. It is a self-funded national-security asset that preserves firearms safety, competitive marksmanship, and a reserve of civilian expertise. During the Iraq War, CMP volunteers even traveled to military installations such as Fort Campbell to help the U.S. Army Marksmanship Unit train deploying soldiers as Squad Designated Marksmen. What looks like recreation on Saturday can become battlefield capability when the nation needs it.