Do you feel lucky?

The year was 1971 and I was 20 years old.  Those were the good old days.   Movies were wildly entertaining, it was real easy to tell the good guys from the bad guys, movie stars kept their political opinions to themselves, and being politically correct hadn’t been invented yet.  And the movies were better for it.  To me, there’s one movie in particular that stands out:  Dirty Harry.

Dirty Harry was an exceptional movie for its time and it was an iconic role for Eastwood:  Inspector Harry Callahan of the San Francisco Police Department.  Eastwood went on to make several Dirty Harry movies.  The Callahan role propelled Eastwood’s career enormously.  But Callahan was only one of two stars in Dirty Harry.  The other was Smith and Wesson’s Model 29 .44 Magnum revolver.   Much as I like Clint Eastwood, I liked the Model 29 better, and yep, I bought a Model 29 after seeing Dirty Harry.  I’ll get to that in a minute.

Susie and I were flipping through movies on Netflix a few nights ago and  Dirty Harry was on the menu.   “Put it on,” Sue said, with some resignation.  “You know you want to watch it.”  She was right.  I did.  Before I get into the Model 29 and all that, watch the video clip below.  It’s a classic bit of tough guyism, and it’s a scene a lot of guys like me burned into our mental firmware.

So…back to the Model 29.   Before Dirty Harry, Smith and Wesson didn’t quite know what to do with their Model 29.   The police didn’t want it (the .44 Magnum is wildly overpowered as a police cartridge), nearly everyone who tried the cartridge back then took a pass, and the gun just kind of languished at the dealers.  Oh, I know you read Elmer Keith and you’re a keyboard commando and all that, but let me tell you…in the ’50s (when the .44 Magnum was introduced) and on into the ’60s, nobody was buying them.  The guns retailed in the mid-$150 range in those early years, but they just weren’t moving.  Then Dirty Harry hit the big screen, and everything changed.  Whaddaya know, everyone wanted a Model 29.  I know.  I was one of them.  I was there.

You couldn’t find a Model 29 anywhere after Dirty Harry.  It was product placement before anyone knew what product placement was, and all those N-frame Smiths gathering dust in dealer showcases vanished.  In 1971 the MSRP for a new Model 29 was $183, but all that changed after Dirty Harry.  They were going for $500 when you could find one on the used gun market, and that wasn’t very often.  Everyone wanted to be Dirty Harry Callahan, including me.  But I had an “in.”  I had people.  My father was an Olympic-class competitive trap shooter and he had contacts in the gun world. Dad put the word out and one of his buddies (a firearms wholesaler in south Jersey) had a brand new Model 29 (if I wanted it, he said) at the discounted price of $150.  If I wanted it.  Like I could say no.  It’s good to know people, and I was in.  Inspector Callahan, move over.

I shot the hell out of that Model 29 in New Jersey and then in Texas when I went in the Army, until it loosened up so much I didn’t want to shoot it any more.  I put a notice up on a bulletin board at Fort Bliss and the next day an artillery captain bought it from me for, you guessed it, $500.   I no longer owned a Model 29, but that was only a temporary situation.  I reached out to my peeps back in New Jersey (it was my home of record and I was still a legal resident) and a week later I had another new Model 29.  It’s the one I have today and the one you see in these photos.

So when Sue and I watched Dirty Harry the other night, I realized it had been more than a few years since I shot my Model 29.   I checked the ammo locker and I had some .44 Magnum ammo I had reloaded back in 2012.  I dug the Model 29 out of the safe that evening, and the next day I was on the range.  You know what?  I still do a pretty good Dirty Harry.  Inspector Callahan has nothing on me.

So back to that opening Dirty Harry scene…you know, the “Do you feel lucky, punk?” bit.  It is classic Hollywood tough guy babble, but I had no idea of its reach until we had a bunch of Chinese guys come over from Zongshen to ride across the United States (you can and should read about that in 5000 Miles at 8000 RPM).   We had a couple of days to kill before starting our epic journey, and when we asked the Chinese what they wanted to do, their answer was immediate:  We want to shoot a gun.  You know.  ‘Murica, and all that.  Hey, I was only too happy to oblige and we were off to the gun club.  After sending a lot of lead downrange with a Ruger Mini 14, our Chinese guests then wanted to visit a gun store (the full American experience, you know), so we rolled over to Bass Pro.

I was a little nervous because the Chinese like to take pictures (and guys like me don’t like anyone, especially foreigners, taking our pictures in gun stores).  Our Chinese guests were cool when I told them to put their cameras away, but I need not have worried.  The Bass Pro folks were intrigued by all of this when we walked in.  They invited our Chinese guests to take all the photos they wanted, and then they allowed them to handle the guns.  That was really cool. One of the Bass Pro sales dudes gave Hugo, the young Zongshen rep, a monstrous .500 Smith and Wesson revolver.  The Chinese guys had their cameras on Hugo in a heartbeat as he handled that massive hand cannon.  Hugo knew what to do.  With a slight Chinese accent (but otherwise perfect English) he was transformed.  Hugo became Dirty Harry:

I know what you guys are thinking.  Did I fire six shots, or only five?  Tell the truth, in all this excitement, I kind of lost track myself.  What you need to ask yourself is:  Do I feel lucky? 

Well, do ya, punk?

Hugo was amazing and we all (me, the Chinese guys, and the Bass Pro staff) had a good laugh.  Hugo was born on the other side of the world a good 30 years after Dirty Harry hit the big screen, but he knew that line perfectly.  And he knew it was part of the whole Smith and Wesson schtick.  I guess it’s no small wonder.  It was both the opening and closing scenes of Dirty Harry.  Take a look:

Me?  I still have my Model 29, and I can still hit the target with it.  I still feel lucky, too.

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