There's a big hoo-ha over an advertisement, in a hunting magazine, for rifles especially designed to be handled by children. Having grown up in the city, my own reaction to this news was probably similar to that of the people to complained, saying that the product encourages children to think it's okay to kill. While you have to be sixteen to legally own a gun, it seems that its now okay to get your grandad to buy you one instead. Surely it'd be cheaper for kids to get their kicks by killing things 'virtually' (and it's legal and doesn't leave bloodstains for your mum to puzzle over).
We went to a wedding yesterday, that of a close friend of my boy's. The bride alternated between nervous giggles and huge grins during the ceremony, while the groom cried when it was his turn to say his vows. Apparently he got a bit overwhelmed before the start of the reception too. I knew him from my old work, and had always thought of him as a bit of a smartass. So it was kinda sweet that he turned out to be such a big softy. Not a huge surprise, really. I've worked with several men who were rough and tough on the outside, and ever-so-slightly marshmallow-y on the inside. In fact, I live with one.