Wednesday, April 04, 2012

How hunting turned me into an OWSer

A conversation with another blogger who shall remain nameless this morning about his poor gardening skills got me to thinking about my own shortcomings concerning my own skillset when it comes to meat hunting.
Now I do hunt coyotes and I'm fairly good at it, but there's a big difference between hunting a predator and hunting meat. Hunting deer for the most part is a waiting game and requires lots and lots of patience. When I coyote hunt, I spent 30 minutes tops on each stand before packing it in and moving 3-4 miles to a fresh stand. Not a lot of boredom there.

*****

I hunted deer (because that's what men do) for 25 years without actually killing one. I'd miss the shot, have an unloaded rifle, break a twig, something, SOMETHING would happen every time causing me to not get a deer that season.
I was a disgrace to the Lane Clan. Relatives would bring me some of their meat to share, feeling sorry for me. Pretty soon I got used to it and realized that I was eating better than I was if I was doing the actual hunting, skinning and processing and not only that but I was getting a much greater variety of wild game. I was getting waterfowl, upland birds, pig, venison, buffalo and lots of other exotic shit too. Hell, even if I wanted to I didn't have time or money to hunt all those other things. It was much easier to let all my relations (who I don't care for anyways) go out and spend their time and money freezing or sweating their asses off while I kicked back in my Camouflaged Bass Pro Easy Chair.
Besides, it made them feel better about themselves as well as feeling better than me to bring me meat. It gave them a chance to re-live the experience of freezing half to death and the incredible 53 yard shot that they managed to take despite overwhelming odds in order to bring me my free food that they were obligated to bring to me because they had so much that it would go bad otherwise.
Damn, with all that free food I was pretty much able to eliminate meat from my budget allowing me to spend more on myself - ammo, hunting gear, books, you know - stuff that I deserved because that's who I am. I gotta be me, ya hear what I'm sayin'?

I don't know what I'm going to do when all those idiots realize that they're being taken advantage of. Maybe camp out on their front lawns demanding my meat, maybe shit on their cars. Protests, picketing, something. I can't be expected to fend for myself, I got my own shit to do.