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Heh. I do remember unfurling a roll of caps on the concrete steps and popping them with my Dad's hammer. It was very satisfying. But I wasn't part of a gang. I do love the smell of the caps' powder though. I actually have 3 different toys from the local toy store (yes, we have a dedicated toy store here) and take them out occasionally to fire them off and breath deep. Like the smell of Play-Do, it immediately takes me back to my 10 year old feisty self and that's just necessary sometimes.
As for being the age of your grandmother when born, well, that's a sobering thought. I'm sure I've actually surpassed that. But we birthed babies young in our tribe.
Yes, the smell of the cap's powder is good and redolent.
In addition to the caps on the thin paper that you could either use in the gun or, as you noted, hit with a hammer, I also remember a kid in the neighborhood having a version of the cap gun that used a plastic ring of caps (that I know now, not then, looked like a speed loader) and the gun looked like the snub nosed ones that the detectives used to use in the TV shows in the '60s (I don't know anything about guns, so that's what I got). Does anyone remember that?
As to aligning your life with where your parents or grandparents were at your age - I'm 50 and my Dad passed away at 66, so I get a little nervous every time I think about it.