I shot my first gun when I was 6. My father was in the Shore Patrol. He would of course hold my hands, as his Navy issue was a bit heavy. We would shoot at man targets in the basement. He showed me how to disassemble, blue, and reassemble. Had my first rifle when I was 10. At that time I could walk downtown and buy bullets for it myself (needed a note from my mother to buy cigarettes for her). I find guns as a tool. Too many people now seem to think it is some sign of manhood. I don't hunt anymore, and I don't have a fox trying to get in the hen house anymore so I no longer need one. I have a friend who sleeps with one under his pillow. I just can't go there with that kind of paranoia.
Once while hitchhiking, this guy picks us up. There were three of us so I sat in the back. The handgun that he had hidden under his seat had slid back onto the floor in front of me. I never said anything and left it there. I always wonder what went through his head when he found it.