In the days of the Wild West, there was a young cowboy who aspired to be the greatest gunfighter in the world. He practiced tirelessly but felt he wasn’t yet first-rate and suspected he might be making some mistakes.
One Saturday night, while sitting in the saloon, he noticed an elderly man at the bar who was once renowned as the fastest gun in the West. Eager to improve, the young cowboy took the seat next to him, bought him a drink, and shared his ambitious goal.
“Can you give me some tips?” he asked.
The old man sized him up and said, “Well, first off, you’re wearing your gun too high. Lower the holster down a bit on your leg.”
“Will that make me a better gunfighter?” the young cowboy inquired.
“Yep, sure will,” the old-timer replied.
Following the advice, the young cowboy adjusted his holster, stood up, drew his .44, and shot the bow tie off the piano player.
“That’s amazing!” the cowboy exclaimed. “Any more tips?”
“Yeah,” said the old man, “cut a notch out of your holster where the hammer hits it. It’ll give you a smoother draw.”
“Will that make me a better gunfighter?” the young man asked.
“Yep, it will,” said the old-timer.
The young cowboy took out his knife, made the notch, stood up, and drew his gun in a blur, shooting a cufflink off the piano player.
“Fantastic!” said the cowboy. “I’m really learning something here—got any more advice?”
The old man pointed to a can in the corner of the saloon. “See that axle grease? Coat your gun with it.”
The young man went over, smeared some grease on the barrel, and returned.
“No,” said the old-timer, “I mean cover the whole gun, handle and all.”
“Will that make me a better gunfighter?” asked the young cowboy.
“Nope,” replied the old-timer, “but when Wyatt Earp finishes playing the piano and comes after you, it won’t hurt as much.”
