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When I was a kid, we used to carry our .22 rifles on our bikes, on the way to our favorite varmit killing grounds, affectionately known as "Gofer Gulch." I don't remember taking it into the drug store while buying candy, but I'll bet I did that. Rifles on gun racks in most of the pickup trucks. A dog was on guard duty. All of the vehicles parked on Main Street were unlocked, and most of them had the keys dangling in the ignition. I have no reason to believe there was ever a key that fit a door lock on our house.
I'm guessing that keys are no longer left in they 'ignition' of parked cars there, but I'd guess a teenager can still take his .22 through town on his bike. North Idaho logging town. Spankings happened. Fistfights happened. Scraped knees happened daily. Ants died. Along with spiders, crickets, garter snakes (did you know you could peel a snake like a banana?), fish, etc. Ever try to catch a fish with your hands? If kids are growing up twisted these days and they have never tried to catch a fish with their hands......then I think I know part of the problem.
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Man of Carbon Fiber (stronger than steel)
Mocha 1978 911SC. "Coco"
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