Like every good Southerner, when I was 10 years old, I had a Daisy. I even had my very own tin of bright pink pellets for it that I had to ask my uncle to get off the shelf for me every time I wanted some target practice.
Eventually, I graduated up to my Big Girl Gun, a Browning, that I had to learn how to clean, lube, take apart and reassemble. Learned idioms like "Revolver for accuracy, automatic for reliability." It's still my favorite gun, but it all started with that Daisy fifteen years ago.
To this day, I'm still an avid gun enthusiast and I turn into a real bitch when I hear people pop off anti-gun stuff when they don't know word one about the things or the culture and discipline that surrounds them.
Just call me a stereotype.