SHOT Show update #2

“Houston, has landed at the show!”

We have now strolled first few miles of aisles at the SHOT (Shooting, Hunting and Outdoor Trades) Show, the Super Bowl, the Indianapolis 500 or Mardi Gras of outdoor world.

This year the show is being held at the Sands Convention Center on the Las Vegas Strip.  With around 58,000 attendees, 1600+ exhibitors, 700,000 square feet of exhibit space and around 1800 members of the media, the whole thing can be overwhelming to the first-time visitor.  Actually, it is overwhelming to even to show veterans.

Arriving bright and early, we soon found a parking space somewhere near the Nevada-Idaho border and were cheerfully hoofing to the convention center past the plethora of newspaper racks offering  advertisements for personal hostess services from women who apparently forgot their clothing.

To place things in a nutshell, if you are looking for AR-15/M-16 style rifles or things to hang off of them, you have come to the right place.  We did see Jim Zumbo running around lost in a daze (for those gun-nuts who understand this inside joke, please raise your hand)

Overwhelmingly, the show has been overtaken by people who are selling every manner and variation of “black rifle.”   It seems that every second booth is selling some manner of rifle, while the other booths in-between are selling a variant of LED flashlights.

There have been various celebrity sightings, the most important of which was Erik Estrada.  A picture of my encounter with the extremely friendly Mr. Estrada has been posted by one of our associate staff members on the popular Facebook website and has drawn many comments, one or two of them positive.

Dinner on Tuesday evening was wonderful.  We were the guests of a manufacturer’s representative who made reservations at a nice Mexican restaurant in the Venetian hotel.  As gondoliers serenaded from a few feet away, we stuffed our faces with gourmet burritos, tacos and other standard but exeptional south-of-the-border fare.

Being a crew of wild and crazy guys running amok in foot-loose and fancy-free Las Vegas , our jet-lagged bodies were passed out in our suite by the hoary hour of 9 p.m.

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