Let’s eat, Grandma vs Let’s eat Grandma.
The Donner Party had probably never heard of the Oxford Comma, when they were exchanging notes by the campfire.
To the topic at hand: I cannot imagine myself selling my single non-selective-triggered 12-gauge Browning B-SS while I can still shoot and afford to shoot, because it was my first double, acquired in my early fifties, because it's a brutally gorgeous thing, and because it was something I'd held in contemplation since I saw it in a Browning catalogue as a pre-teen. I hope to slowly, eventually shoot its starboard, Modified-choked barrel off-face at Trap. I've done damned well with it, sometimes, by my very casual standards. Dragging it out for an airing brings me joy.
I also have a couple of centerfire handguns I'll never be able to sell-off (except by exporting them) due to my country's recent prohibition of non-ISSF handgun exchanges, but I've kept them because they're truly special. Joy of ownership, and all that. Both are mid-century Colts.
