Back when I lived in Indiana my neighbor was a WW2 vet who had made the dash from Normandy through the Bulge and into Germany with an anti-aircraft unit. He was also held both his bachelor's and master's degrees from the University of Notre Dame and was, of course, a die-hard ND fan.

One Saturday morning about 7:30 I went out the back yard only to have John yell at me, "You still got that old Army rifle?" He was referring to a 1917 "Enfield" I'd gotten.

"Yeah, why?"

"You got any bullets for it? If you do, bring it out here!"

"John, we're in the middle of the city!"

"Well that goddamned airplane (pointing at a plane towing an advertising banner) has been buzzing around here since 6 a.m. and I want to shoot the bastard down! And I can do it, too!"

I talked him out of it. And I still call him when I can -- in fact, I owe him a phone call now.