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The target license allowed me bring my gun to the range to shoot as often as Iwanted, but I had to keep it in a locked box with ammo separate not only whencarrying it but also at home.I wanted a target license. My reason? How in the world would I learn to shoot agun if I could only go to the range once a month? I genuinely wanted to learn toshoot, to gain that skill. More than anything, I wanted to know that I could safelyhandle a gun and deal with the power that a gun represented.My fascination with guns has been long-standing. Ever since I was a young girl, Igravitated toward "shoot-em-up" movies and television shows. After bedtime, I'dpull a blanket over my head and across my 19 inch Zenith black and whitetelevision in my bedroom so I could surreptitiously watch
Starsky and Hutch
. I was in love with Dirty Harry. The bigger the gun,the better.Although I glorified guns in my fantasies, in reality I knew that they wereinanimate objects that had been so infused with power, danger, mystery and sinand had become a symbol of what was wrong with our society that owning oneseemed out of the question for years. When I finally decided to buy a gun, I tookthe entire process very seriously, taking lessons, reading up on them, talking topeople who owned them and making sure I was emotionally ready to shoot andown one.