I don't ever remember wanting a gun. I'd much rather wound someone with sarcasm or a pillow case filled with oranges.
There was one summer, the summer before senior year in high school, where I read Helter Skelter and listened obsessively to The Beatles (you know, The White Album).
I wanted to know if hearing those songs ("Blackbird," "Piggies," "Helter Skelter," "Revolution 1," etc.) could really turn someone into a crazy killer.
By the middle of July, I was convinced the music was harmless enough.
|Daisy B B Gun ad (Daisy Manufacturing Company, 1963)|
I'm just a no-nothing city slicker, but is it a good idea to have your gun pointed at your chest like that, even when Dad's around?
|This Christmas. . . It's a Daisy (Daisy Manufacturing Company, 1964)|
Aren't these beauties? Picking the one you'd like most for Christmas will be hard, but after you've decided, check the box next to your favorite. Then, tear out the page, and prop it against Dad's coffee cup before he comes down for breakfast. He'll get the idea.
Almost every boy's Dad can remember the thrill of opening a long, slim box Christmas morning and finding a DAISY inside!
Whenever I opened a long, slim box at Hannukah, it was always a stupid necktie. It was never a Daisy rifle with side-loading port, slim-line barrel, 40-shot lever action repeater, Buckhorn rear, and ramp-type front sights.
And my grades were perfect.
|Daisy B B Gun ad (Daisy Manufacturing Company, 1966)|
Is the dad in this advertisement supposed to be Fred MacMurray?
Also: did the copywriter who wrote "cocks like the real gun with smooth slide action" have a sense of humor? Was it the same wiseguy who encouraged B B gun fun indoors?
Kudos to the U.S. Jaycees for including boys and girls, age 7-14, in the International B B Gun Championship.
If I was a girl and my stupid brother was allowed to fire his Model 99 Target Special in the house, I'd complain until I was allowed the same privilege.