Every few weekends in junior high and high school, I’d work out my frustrations by smashing, shooting and burning. My friends and siblings usually joined me in these weirdly innocent, unsupervised activities — normal as they seemed at the time for kids growing up in rural areas. (Those were always within a few minutes’ drive in Southwest Ohio.) These days, it’s considered aberrant to indulge in such things — classless, dangerous relics of childhoods past, as some might see them.