Saturday Night Special - Revision history

Cereally at 23:13, 17 August 2023

2023-08-17T23:13:20Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 19:13, 17 August 2023
Line 20:		Line 20:
	We never discussed what had happened that night, but I revisited the bullet hole in our living room wall anytime I wanted to remember the event. I’ll never forget the angle of the ricochet that nearly killed me.		We never discussed what had happened that night, but I revisited the bullet hole in our living room wall anytime I wanted to remember the event. I’ll never forget the angle of the ricochet that nearly killed me.

	==See Also		==See Also==
	[[Operation Snowball]]		*[[Operation Snowball]]

	==Sources==		==Sources==

Cereally at 23:13, 17 August 2023

2023-08-17T23:13:07Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 19:13, 17 August 2023
Line 19:		Line 19:

	We never discussed what had happened that night, but I revisited the bullet hole in our living room wall anytime I wanted to remember the event. I’ll never forget the angle of the ricochet that nearly killed me.		We never discussed what had happened that night, but I revisited the bullet hole in our living room wall anytime I wanted to remember the event. I’ll never forget the angle of the ricochet that nearly killed me.

			==See Also
			[[Operation Snowball]]

	==Sources==		==Sources==

Scroobie: Replaced dead link with archived

2022-02-19T08:48:10Z

Replaced dead link with archived

← Older revision		Revision as of 04:48, 19 February 2022
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	~~{{DeadLinks}}~~		'''''Saturday Night Special''''' is an article written by [[Cole Smithey]] on his film critic blog.<ref>https://web.archive.org/web/20140307024001/http://www.colesmithey.com/articles/2014/02/saturday-night-special.html</ref> It mostly details his coming of age, but the last two paragraphs involve [[Barbara Chandler\|Barb]]. According to his recount, her recklessness almost killed him and certainly left a lasting impression.
	'''''Saturday Night Special''''' is an article written by [[Cole Smithey]] on his film critic blog.<ref>http://www.colesmithey.com/articles/2014/02/saturday-night-special.html</ref> It mostly details his coming of age, but the last two paragraphs involve [[Barbara Chandler\|Barb]]. According to his recount, her recklessness almost killed him and certainly left a lasting impression.

	== ''Saturday Night Special'' ==		== ''Saturday Night Special'' ==

4CentUser: original page dead

2021-10-02T15:13:01Z

original page dead

← Older revision		Revision as of 11:13, 2 October 2021
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			{{DeadLinks}}
	'''''Saturday Night Special''''' is an article written by [[Cole Smithey]] on his film critic blog.<ref>http://www.colesmithey.com/articles/2014/02/saturday-night-special.html</ref> It mostly details his coming of age, but the last two paragraphs involve [[Barbara Chandler\|Barb]]. According to his recount, her recklessness almost killed him and certainly left a lasting impression.		'''''Saturday Night Special''''' is an article written by [[Cole Smithey]] on his film critic blog.<ref>http://www.colesmithey.com/articles/2014/02/saturday-night-special.html</ref> It mostly details his coming of age, but the last two paragraphs involve [[Barbara Chandler\|Barb]]. According to his recount, her recklessness almost killed him and certainly left a lasting impression.

MathevsEff at 15:01, 19 October 2019

2019-10-19T15:01:20Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 11:01, 19 October 2019
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	Then came the night when a burglar tried to break in when my dad was out cheating on my mom. We had a steel front door. You don’t see many of those around unless you live — as I do — in a pre-war building in a big city. Some dirtbag was making no bones about trying to break down our front door. Richmond was the [[Chris and sex#Rape\|rape]] capital of America at the time. The former capital of the Confederacy has always been a cesspool of violent crime, and still is. [[Barbara Chandler\|My mother Barbara]] left the living room for the adjacent bedroom where said pistol sat waiting. She returned with a fully loaded gun. I stood beside her about ten feet from the door where the would-be thief was still loudly at work trying to break down the front door. My mother pulled back the hammer, attempting to cock it. But she didn’t pull it back far enough for it to lock. BLAM! The gun fired. The bullet hit the floor, ricocheted onto the steel door, then onto the ceiling, before lodging in the plaster wall less than a foot to the left of my head. The would-be thief was scared off, so [[George W. Bush\|mission accomplished]] there, but I could easily have died. I remember sticking a pencil into the hole in order to measure how far the bullet had lodged after ricocheting so many times.		Then came the night when a burglar tried to break in when my dad was out cheating on my mom. We had a steel front door. You don’t see many of those around unless you live — as I do — in a pre-war building in a big city. Some dirtbag was making no bones about trying to break down our front door. Richmond was the [[Chris and sex#Rape\|rape]] capital of America at the time. The former capital of the Confederacy has always been a cesspool of violent crime, and still is. [[Barbara Chandler\|My mother Barbara]] left the living room for the adjacent bedroom where said pistol sat waiting. She returned with a fully loaded gun. I stood beside her about ten feet from the door where the would-be thief was still loudly at work trying to break down the front door. My mother pulled back the hammer, attempting to cock it. But she didn’t pull it back far enough for it to lock. BLAM! The gun fired. The bullet hit the floor, ricocheted onto the steel door, then onto the ceiling, before lodging in the plaster wall less than a foot to the left of my head. The would-be thief was scared off, so [[George W. Bush\|mission accomplished]] there, but I could easily have died. I remember sticking a pencil into the hole in order to measure how far the bullet had lodged after ricocheting so many times.

	We never discussed what had happened that night, but I revisited the bullet hole in our living room wall anytime I wanted to remember the event. I’ll never forget the angle of the ~~richochet~~ that nearly killed me.		We never discussed what had happened that night, but I revisited the bullet hole in our living room wall anytime I wanted to remember the event. I’ll never forget the angle of the ricochet that nearly killed me.

	==Sources==		==Sources==

MathevsEff at 14:41, 19 October 2019

2019-10-19T14:41:25Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 10:41, 19 October 2019
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	'''''Saturday Night Special''''' is an article written by [[Cole Smithey]] on his film critic blog<ref>http://www.colesmithey.com/articles/2014/02/saturday-night-special.html</ref>. It mostly details his coming of age, but the last two paragraphs involve [[Barbara Chandler\|Barb]]. According to his recount, her recklessness almost killed him and certainly left a lasting impression.		'''''Saturday Night Special''''' is an article written by [[Cole Smithey]] on his film critic blog.<ref>http://www.colesmithey.com/articles/2014/02/saturday-night-special.html</ref> It mostly details his coming of age, but the last two paragraphs involve [[Barbara Chandler\|Barb]]. According to his recount, her recklessness almost killed him and certainly left a lasting impression.

	== ''Saturday Night Special'' ==		== ''Saturday Night Special'' ==

Galilean at 04:34, 22 February 2017

2017-02-22T04:34:15Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 00:34, 22 February 2017
Line 1:		Line 1:
	'''''Saturday Night Special''''' is an article written by [[Cole Smithey]] on his film critic blog<ref>http://www.colesmithey.com/articles/2014/02/saturday-night-special.html</ref>. It mostly details his coming of age, but the last two paragraphs involve [[Barbara Chandler]]. According to his recount, ~~Barb's~~ recklessness almost killed him and certainly left a lasting impression.		'''''Saturday Night Special''''' is an article written by [[Cole Smithey]] on his film critic blog<ref>http://www.colesmithey.com/articles/2014/02/saturday-night-special.html</ref>. It mostly details his coming of age, but the last two paragraphs involve [[Barbara Chandler\|Barb]]. According to his recount, her recklessness almost killed him and certainly left a lasting impression.

	== ''Saturday Night Special'' ==		== ''Saturday Night Special'' ==

Promethean: /* Saturday Night Special */

2014-05-29T20:50:50Z

Saturday Night Special

← Older revision		Revision as of 16:50, 29 May 2014
Line 16:		Line 16:
	My curiosity was sated. I never did it again.		My curiosity was sated. I never did it again.

	Then came the night when a burglar tried to break in when my dad was out cheating on my mom. We had a steel front door. You don’t see many of those around unless you live — as I do — in a pre-war building in a big city. Some dirtbag was making no bones about trying to break down our front door. Richmond was the [[Chris and sex#Rape\|rape]] capital of America at the time. The former capital of the Confederacy has always been a cesspool of violent crime, and still is. [[Barbara Chandler\|My mother Barbara]] left the living room for the adjacent bedroom where said pistol sat waiting. She returned with a fully loaded gun. I stood beside her about ten feet from the door where the would-be thief was still loudly at work trying to break down the front door. My mother pulled back the hammer, attempting to cock it. But she didn’t pull it back far enough for it to lock. BLAM! The gun fired. The bullet hit the floor, ricocheted onto the steel door, then onto the ceiling, before lodging in the plaster wall less than a foot to the left of my head. The would-be thief was scared off, so mission accomplished there, but I could easily have died. I remember sticking a pencil into the hole in order to measure how far the bullet had lodged after ricocheting so many times.		Then came the night when a burglar tried to break in when my dad was out cheating on my mom. We had a steel front door. You don’t see many of those around unless you live — as I do — in a pre-war building in a big city. Some dirtbag was making no bones about trying to break down our front door. Richmond was the [[Chris and sex#Rape\|rape]] capital of America at the time. The former capital of the Confederacy has always been a cesspool of violent crime, and still is. [[Barbara Chandler\|My mother Barbara]] left the living room for the adjacent bedroom where said pistol sat waiting. She returned with a fully loaded gun. I stood beside her about ten feet from the door where the would-be thief was still loudly at work trying to break down the front door. My mother pulled back the hammer, attempting to cock it. But she didn’t pull it back far enough for it to lock. BLAM! The gun fired. The bullet hit the floor, ricocheted onto the steel door, then onto the ceiling, before lodging in the plaster wall less than a foot to the left of my head. The would-be thief was scared off, so [[George W. Bush\|mission accomplished]] there, but I could easily have died. I remember sticking a pencil into the hole in order to measure how far the bullet had lodged after ricocheting so many times.

	We never discussed what had happened that night, but I revisited the bullet hole in our living room wall anytime I wanted to remember the event. I’ll never forget the angle of the richochet that nearly killed me.		We never discussed what had happened that night, but I revisited the bullet hole in our living room wall anytime I wanted to remember the event. I’ll never forget the angle of the richochet that nearly killed me.

Gsbr at 22:54, 13 May 2014

2014-05-13T22:54:05Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 18:54, 13 May 2014
Line 1:		Line 1:
	'''''Saturday Night Special''''' is an article written by [[Cole Smithey]] on his film critic blog<ref>http://www.colesmithey.com/articles/2014/02/saturday-night-special.html</ref>. It's mostly details his coming of age, but the last two paragraphs involve [[Barbara Chandler]]. According to his recount, Barb's recklessness almost killed him and certainly left a lasting impression.		'''''Saturday Night Special''''' is an article written by [[Cole Smithey]] on his film critic blog<ref>http://www.colesmithey.com/articles/2014/02/saturday-night-special.html</ref>. It mostly details his coming of age, but the last two paragraphs involve [[Barbara Chandler]]. According to his recount, Barb's recklessness almost killed him and certainly left a lasting impression.

	== ''Saturday Night Special'' ==		== ''Saturday Night Special'' ==
	'''My Childhood, Playing with Guns'''		'''My Childhood, Playing with Guns'''

	It wasn’t officially what the media called a “[[Wikipedia:Saturday night special\|Saturday Night Special]].” Nevertheless, my stepdad, a professional magician in every sense of the phrase — he was a master of sleight-of-hand and just about everything else — referenced the term so many times that that was what I called the .25 caliber revolver he kept in his nightstand drawer. It wasn’t loaded, but that wasn't because he was an especially safety-conscious man. There was a box of bullets in the drawer too. Some were loose, rolling around the bottom of the drawer unencumbered by the presence of any other items that might impede a would-be user from quickly loading it. When I was somewhere between eight and ten years of age, I played with my stepfather's gun whenever he and my mom left me alone in our second-floor apartment at 1124 West Grace Street (apartment 7) adjacent to the campus of Virginia Commonwealth University in [[Chris's homes\|Richmond]]. Like many boys I wanted to become a man as quickly as possible. My dad’s stacks of Playboy and Penthouse magazines inspired me to aspire to be an oversexed version of James Bond from a young age — I remember watching a James Bond triple-feature at a drive-in (“From Russia With Love,” “Goldfinger” and “Thunderball”) with my folks. I fell asleep before the end of “Thunderball,” but “Goldfinger” made an impression.		It wasn’t officially what the media called a “[[Wikipedia:Saturday night special\|Saturday Night Special]].” Nevertheless, my [[Barbara_Chandler#Jerry_Harmon\|stepdad]], a professional magician in every sense of the phrase — he was a master of sleight-of-hand and just about everything else — referenced the term so many times that that was what I called the .25 caliber revolver he kept in his nightstand drawer. It wasn’t loaded, but that wasn't because he was an especially safety-conscious man. There was a box of bullets in the drawer too. Some were loose, rolling around the bottom of the drawer unencumbered by the presence of any other items that might impede a would-be user from quickly loading it. When I was somewhere between eight and ten years of age, I played with my stepfather's gun whenever he and my mom left me alone in our second-floor apartment at 1124 West Grace Street (apartment 7) adjacent to the campus of Virginia Commonwealth University in [[Chris's homes\|Richmond]]. Like many boys I wanted to become a man as quickly as possible. My dad’s stacks of Playboy and Penthouse magazines inspired me to aspire to be an oversexed version of James Bond from a young age — I remember watching a James Bond triple-feature at a drive-in (“From Russia With Love,” “Goldfinger” and “Thunderball”) with my folks. I fell asleep before the end of “Thunderball,” but “Goldfinger” made an impression.

	An only child, I would spend Friday nights trying to keep awake all night because I imagined that passing this test would mean that I had the requisite stamina that being an adult required. Late-night horror movies — frequently starring Vincent Price or Boris Karloff — assisted in my weekly endeavor, as did an hourglass; alas, I accidentally broke the device and was naturally, typically and severely punished for it.		An only child, I would spend Friday nights trying to keep awake all night because I imagined that passing this test would mean that I had the requisite stamina that being an adult required. Late-night horror movies — frequently starring Vincent Price or Boris Karloff — assisted in my weekly endeavor, as did an hourglass; alas, I accidentally broke the device and was naturally, typically and severely punished for it.

Dynamic Dragon: /* Saturday Night Special */

2014-03-09T23:03:48Z

Saturday Night Special

← Older revision		Revision as of 19:03, 9 March 2014
Line 4:		Line 4:
	'''My Childhood, Playing with Guns'''		'''My Childhood, Playing with Guns'''

	It wasn’t officially what the media called a “[[Wikipedia:Saturday night special\|Saturday Night Special]].” Nevertheless, my stepdad, a professional magician in every sense of the phrase — he was a master of sleight-of-hand and just about everything else — referenced the term so many times that that was what I called the .25 caliber revolver he kept in his nightstand drawer. It wasn’t loaded, but that wasn't because he was an especially safety-conscious man. There was a box of bullets in the drawer too. Some were loose, rolling around the bottom of the drawer unencumbered by the presence of any other items that might impede a would-be user from quickly loading it. When I was somewhere between eight and ten years of age, I played with my stepfather's gun whenever he and my mom left me alone in our second-floor apartment at 1124 West Grace Street (apartment 7) adjacent to the campus of Virginia Commonwealth University in [[Richmond]]. Like many boys I wanted to become a man as quickly as possible. My dad’s stacks of Playboy and Penthouse magazines inspired me to aspire to be an oversexed version of James Bond from a young age — I remember watching a James Bond triple-feature at a drive-in (“From Russia With Love,” “Goldfinger” and “Thunderball”) with my folks. I fell asleep before the end of “Thunderball,” but “Goldfinger” made an impression.		It wasn’t officially what the media called a “[[Wikipedia:Saturday night special\|Saturday Night Special]].” Nevertheless, my stepdad, a professional magician in every sense of the phrase — he was a master of sleight-of-hand and just about everything else — referenced the term so many times that that was what I called the .25 caliber revolver he kept in his nightstand drawer. It wasn’t loaded, but that wasn't because he was an especially safety-conscious man. There was a box of bullets in the drawer too. Some were loose, rolling around the bottom of the drawer unencumbered by the presence of any other items that might impede a would-be user from quickly loading it. When I was somewhere between eight and ten years of age, I played with my stepfather's gun whenever he and my mom left me alone in our second-floor apartment at 1124 West Grace Street (apartment 7) adjacent to the campus of Virginia Commonwealth University in [[Chris's homes\|Richmond]]. Like many boys I wanted to become a man as quickly as possible. My dad’s stacks of Playboy and Penthouse magazines inspired me to aspire to be an oversexed version of James Bond from a young age — I remember watching a James Bond triple-feature at a drive-in (“From Russia With Love,” “Goldfinger” and “Thunderball”) with my folks. I fell asleep before the end of “Thunderball,” but “Goldfinger” made an impression.

	An only child, I would spend Friday nights trying to keep awake all night because I imagined that passing this test would mean that I had the requisite stamina that being an adult required. Late-night horror movies — frequently starring Vincent Price or Boris Karloff — assisted in my weekly endeavor, as did an hourglass; alas, I accidentally broke the device and was naturally, typically and severely punished for it.		An only child, I would spend Friday nights trying to keep awake all night because I imagined that passing this test would mean that I had the requisite stamina that being an adult required. Late-night horror movies — frequently starring Vincent Price or Boris Karloff — assisted in my weekly endeavor, as did an hourglass; alas, I accidentally broke the device and was naturally, typically and severely punished for it.
Line 16:		Line 16:
	My curiosity was sated. I never did it again.		My curiosity was sated. I never did it again.

	Then came the night when a burglar tried to break in when my dad was out cheating on my mom. We had a steel front door. You don’t see many of those around unless you live — as I do — in a pre-war building in a big city. Some dirtbag was making no bones about trying to break down our front door. Richmond was the [[Chris and sex#~~rape~~\|rape]] capital of America at the time. The former capital of the Confederacy has always been a cesspool of violent crime, and still is. [[Barbara Chandler\|My mother Barbara]] left the living room for the adjacent bedroom where said pistol sat waiting. She returned with a fully loaded gun. I stood beside her about ten feet from the door where the would-be thief was still loudly at work trying to break down the front door. My mother pulled back the hammer, attempting to cock it. But she didn’t pull it back far enough for it to lock. BLAM! The gun fired. The bullet hit the floor, ricocheted onto the steel door, then onto the ceiling, before lodging in the plaster wall less than a foot to the left of my head. The would-be thief was scared off, so mission accomplished there, but I could easily have died. I remember sticking a pencil into the hole in order to measure how far the bullet had lodged after ricocheting so many times.		Then came the night when a burglar tried to break in when my dad was out cheating on my mom. We had a steel front door. You don’t see many of those around unless you live — as I do — in a pre-war building in a big city. Some dirtbag was making no bones about trying to break down our front door. Richmond was the [[Chris and sex#Rape\|rape]] capital of America at the time. The former capital of the Confederacy has always been a cesspool of violent crime, and still is. [[Barbara Chandler\|My mother Barbara]] left the living room for the adjacent bedroom where said pistol sat waiting. She returned with a fully loaded gun. I stood beside her about ten feet from the door where the would-be thief was still loudly at work trying to break down the front door. My mother pulled back the hammer, attempting to cock it. But she didn’t pull it back far enough for it to lock. BLAM! The gun fired. The bullet hit the floor, ricocheted onto the steel door, then onto the ceiling, before lodging in the plaster wall less than a foot to the left of my head. The would-be thief was scared off, so mission accomplished there, but I could easily have died. I remember sticking a pencil into the hole in order to measure how far the bullet had lodged after ricocheting so many times.

	We never discussed what had happened that night, but I revisited the bullet hole in our living room wall anytime I wanted to remember the event. I’ll never forget the angle of the richochet that nearly killed me.		We never discussed what had happened that night, but I revisited the bullet hole in our living room wall anytime I wanted to remember the event. I’ll never forget the angle of the richochet that nearly killed me.