I didn't grow up around firearms. No hunters in my family. I remember as a young child, thinking that anyone who carried a gun was just trying to be macho, or compensating for
something. Or at least thats how it was on TV.
I became
pro 2a while in high school. It was the
stupidity of Philadelphia politicians
crying about all the
guns on the street, implying that muggers and rapists would be perfectly safe to have around if they weren't so well armed. The sheer
stupidity of their positions made me take the opposite side of the issue.
I began carrying generic teargas spray for protection at age 16, everywhere I went, including school. I kept my self-defense spray a secret from
everyone, including my parents... but then my father spotted one of my cannisters in my car, and was quite pleased that I made the decision to protect myself. I did, however, manage to spray myself in the face with it while rooting in my glovebox... that's when I realized that carrying a freshly-sliced onion might be more effective!
I didn't seriously consider actually
owning a gun untill I was thirtyish. Something about having a wife, and a having a responsibility to come home to her alive every night... or maybe I was just mature enough by then.
PS:
I recently brought up the incident in which I "Maced" myself in a conversation with some friends. I couldn't believe the very loud reaction of my friend's wife!
" MACE? MACE?!?! Why on earth would anyone need to carry that?" :banghead: I guess I won't be discussing .38 revolvers with her anytime soon.