I'm 59 and still have my first gun, a double, given to me by my Dad when I was about 8. It's a Stevens 311 410. Shooting doves over water tanks in Texas, I couldn't hit anything with it and envied the other kids with 20's and 16's. A couple of years ago I read an article about long shot columns and no need for chokes in 410's for birdhunting so I reamed her out. Its just like I'm a kid all over again because I still can't hit anything with it. Quail perch on the end of the barrels and thumb their beaks at me. My dog looks at me with disdain and comes over and pees on my leg. There's lots of memories in that gun.

I'm a lefty so I never grew fond of repeaters. When I turned 18 my Dad offered me either a new 870 or a SKB 100. I took the Remington and never liked it. It was so long I felt like I was shooting a Brown Bess. Short of an indecently clad woman with a well turned leg, nothing will turn my head like a quality double. With them I'm a regular Tiger Woods. I've had quite a few, fondled many, and have no intentions of ever really curbing my addiction. I just hide them carefully from the wife.