My favorite firearms moment is actually one of my earliest memories. I have no idea how old I was at the time.
My parents took me on a walk down the midway at the Calgary Stampede. I have no idea why, as my parents both lean a bit to the left, but they decided to let me have a go at the 'shoot out the star' game.
I was so small that I had to rest the stock on my shoulder to reach the trigger and I seriously doubt that I had any concept of sights.
All that I remember is the rat-a-tat-tat of that little BB machine gun and the bits of paper flying! It was glorious!
Clearly I wasn't even remotely interested in trying to accomplish the actual objective and the guy at the booth was so entertained that he gave me a free reload, and off I went again!
My mom laminated that little bullet-ridden piece of paper for me and it was my most prized possession for years. A few decades later I went back with a girlfriend, and relived the memory! The guns are a lot tinier than I remember.
That day fostered a lifelong love of guns.
And a deathly fear of clowns.
My parents also took me through the %#&*'ing funhouse.