Despite my liberal credentials as a Volvo-driving, pro-choice, gay-marriage-supporting urban dweller, I admit to an inner conflict when it comes to guns. I grew up surrounded by firearms and the boys who loved them. My father is a bona fide hunting nut who threatened to buy my son a lifetime membership to the National Rifle Association for his first birthday. I myself have mowed down a variety of defenseless woodland creatures. I used to be a decent shot with a pistol, and once during the Clinton years, I spearheaded an outing of lefty political scribes for a round of skeet shooting.
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