Like others here, I feel I was born a generation too late for myriad reasons. I was fortunate, though. I spent my pre-adolescent years on the outskirts of Boulder, CO (ironically, our address was Gunbarrel, CO). We had a little over an acre in the middle of a 4 square mile alfalfa field that edged up to the highway. My dad was old school. He believed we should be raised the same way he was, and I got my first Daisy when I was 6. But before I could use the rifle, I had to memorize the ten commandments that were printed on the packaging. That was in 1988. I was upgraded to a model 880 pump at 9. He died before I ever received my first actual firearm, but the seed was planted and watered. My mom and stepdad not being gun folks, I had to work real hard to simply convince them to let my buy the then-new Daisy model 990 (pump or CO2). I paid my way through hunter safety and paid for the airgun with lawnmowing money, and that had to suffice until I was 14, when a neighbor & friend agreed to take my money and buy a Remington model 522 Viper, which would remain at his house. So for the next four years, I would spend my weekends shooting the crap outta that little black rifle behind his house, until the day I turned 18 and splurged on a Remington 700 .25-06 and a Marlin 1895 .45-70. From there it was all over. But it all began with that lever-action Daisy, and my father's careful instruction and nurturing of the hobby.