Oh for the "good old days" when, at the ripe age of 12, I could walk into the local hardware store, pick up a box of 22LR off the shelf (yes GASP pick it up myself), go to the counter and give them my 40 or 50 cents and walk on out the door. No questions about age or type of weapon, no laws broken, just FREEDOM.
Oh for the "good old days" when I was 14 and got my own 12 guage shotgun for Christmas and could ride my bicycle down to the hardware store, pick up a box or two of 12 guage shells, pay my money and........
Oh for the good old days when my brother, myself, and two friends would head out hunting....... our friend had a motorcycle permit and a motorcycle. He'd sling his shotgun in front of his chest, the other friend would get on the back of the bike with his shotgun slung across his back, and my brother and I would wrap the ends of a rope attached to the back of the bike around the handlebar stem on our 10 speeds. HEY WE WERE SAFE....we only wrapped the rope and held the tag end griped with the handlebar for a safe and efficient "release"...... brother and i would have our shotguns slung across our backs and teh four of us would head off down the road to our hunting grounds some 10-20 (depending on our choice for the day) miles away.
And the only law we broke was the buddy riding on the back of the bike (permit denied passengers).
Oh for the good old days when I was 16 and went into the Coast to Coast store with money from my job, picked out a Winchester 12 guage pump, paid my money and walked out the door with my new shotgun in hand.
Oh for the good old days when, shortly after getting the pump shotgun I figured out how much ammo it could use compared to the single shot and bought a MEC 600 Jr reloader and 8 pounds of powder....just paid my money and walked.........
Imagine the horror of the brady bunch if we could just return to those days of freedom?
And yes my friends, that was all in Commiefornia. Cica 1974 - 1976.