Free Republic

Growing up in a quiet Jewish neighborhood of the Bronx, I was about as far removed as could be from the gun culture. But as a five or six year old, I would beg my parents to take me to visit the toy store a few blocks away so that I could gaze longingly in the window . . . at a toy six-shooter. I share my story because I think it's typical. Of course there are exceptions, but from time immemorial the great majority of little boys have been drawn to toy weapons while little girls have largely been...

<p>Lawrence High is the usual fortress of manila-brick blandness and boxy 1960s architecture. At lunch, the metalheads saunter out to the smokers' park, while the AP types get pizzas at Marinara's, where they talk about -- what else? -- other people. The hallways are filled with lip-glossed divas in designer clothes and packs of girls in midriff-baring track tops. The guys run the gamut, too: skate punks, rich boys in Armani, and saggy-panted crews with their Eminem swaggers. In other words, they look pretty much as you'd expect.</p>