When I was at Big Sandy, it all seemed normal. Even the guy who had mounted a machine gun along with a giant disco ball on the back of his boat, which he parked on a trailer overlooking a set of hills that had been seeded with sticks of TNT attached to glow sticks so that if you shot one of the glow sticks, it would explode. Sure, why wouldn’t you do that? I thought. This was the Big Sandy Shoot, where, it often seemed, anything went.
