Air Guns

Ahh, air guns. How much fun are these? I must have been about 5 years old when my dad went out and bought me my first one. It was a Red Ryder I think, and I spent hours in the backyard, shooting at targets painted on cardboard boxes. I remember the thrill of shooting these things like it was yesterday--walking beside my dad, me with my air gun, and he with the .22 that he'd occasionally let me shoot. Shooting a real gun made me feel so grown up, like a kid drinking apple cider from a champagne flute at Thanksgiving dinner. Classic childhood memories.