In any event, just by eyeballing it I could tell it would be a near perfect fit for the Colt Cobra, and possibly several other snubbies. For $1, I took it home, and it fit like a glove. It's a brown basketweave pattern with an old school "reach over" leather strap with a snap, worn on the belt but pretty high on the belt, where a polo shirt or certainly a suit jacket would cover it well. More suited for field use, which is what I got it for, but certainly fine for colder weather and with a coat or jacket.
It is labeled a Roscoe holster. Seems like I read somewhere they were made in Germany, but I'll have to look into that. It's a fairly thin single ply of medium thick leather, and finished very nicely. I'll guess it's from the 60's or 70's, but in immaculate condition.
Which all reminds me in a round about way of one of the great friends I've had for nearly 30 years who I met through Billy Ray. His old college buddies, mostly from the Big D area because Billy Ray actually matriculated from SMU. Pony boys.
In any event, they've become good friends with me and I've had many a good time with many of them.
My longtime band mate and great friend Ricky Ray, with whom Billy Ray and I have a band of longstanding nature is one of these friends.
So is the great drummer and doctor, The Evil Dr. K, who is not evil at all. We've done quite a bit of double drumming together and he's just a funny guy and real nice person. We spent a lot of time in the early eighties together, both with and without Billy Ray, running wild as young men in their twenties are want to do.
Another Billy Ray friend I ran with back then was Johnny D. He also loved in Houston during the early 80's, moving to a killer condo on Lake Conroe after that. Lots of good times with Johnny D. After several years of being good friends, he spent a marathon several days talking me out of pursuing a post graduate musical education in California and talking me into going to law school.
Which of course turned out, was the absolute best advice, and was the same advice my dad gave me. I had a lot of friends in LA and could have attended a very nice music school on a scholarship.
A good friend of mine had attended and now worked there, the virtuoso Roberto the guitar genius, for several years already. He thought I could get the same type of deal. It paid well and had insurance.
He had a screamin' deal on a Hollywood Hills house tucked away that he was housesitting on a long term basis and had permission for me to reside there as well from the owner.
And in the 80's and 90's Roberto was doing a ton of studio recording work as well as live gigs for fairly well known artists to playing around town with some of the more hip bands. He was a union guy as well and did all kinds of union gigs, like weddings and klenzmer gigs and just about everything you could think of.
So on the one hand, I had a fairly good deal in LA for school and most certainly some paying work fairly soon, as Roberto was well connected with the gigging and sub contractors.
But Johnny D was always talking sense into me about law school and how it would greatly broaden my options for the future. And he was absolutely right. I've been able to pursue a very enjoyable musical career playing locally for many years, yet be able to have the great family thing (no musician road work) and a job I love.
So once Johnny D and I were out on the town, back in the glory days of a Hillcroft restaurant called Bogart's or something like that, and we were headed out for a late night meal. Hillcroft wasn't as bad as it is now back then, but it was certainly crimey and already had a rep for being a sketchy place.
Since I was an officer in those days, he asked me if I had "my Roscoe" on me.
*I said what?
*You know, your heater.
* Your piece. Your cannon. Your equalizer.
Finally, I figured out he was talking about my off-duty weapon, mostly likely a Colt Cobra, a lightweight Commander or a H-K P7M8 back then. And yes, I did carry off duty and he knew it and being a fellow who had relocated from Missouri to Dallas to Houston, Johnny D. was a little nervous on the sketchy side of Houston for a late night meal.
Johnny D is not in law enforcement but was fascinated by my stories. Or at least he acted like he was.
So the Roscoe holster reminded me of all that.