The Great Pig Hunt

In the old days in Gainesville, Bob, Fred and I spent quite a bit of time hunting. We all needed the food, and we liked to hunt. We often went out to the forest near Newberry to try our luck, but the live oak and palmetto forest of the west coast near Steinhatchee was the gold standard. For starters, the locals didn't hunt pig there because the pigs fed in the tidal flats at low tide. Locals claimed they tasted fishy. They didn't. There were lots of them around so we though it would be an easy kill. It wasn't. We went well armed. I had a 9mm pistol and a 30 cal m-1 carbine, Bob had, I think, a 410 with slugs and buckshot, and Fred had a lever action 25-20.
We got into the forest at dawn and moved slowly to the interior. Very noisy place to sneak. The floor littered with dry palm fronds and oak leaves. We were about 40 or 50 feet apart, moving in a line, and entered a thicket typical of the area. Very dense vegetation from the waist up and clear below, probably reflecting the periodic flooding. We were well inside the thicket when pigs erupted around us and scattered in all directions. They were literally running around past our legs. We all started shooting at once. Sounded like a war zone. I emptied the m-1, put the gun down, drew the 9mm (hollow points) and emptied that mag. Suddenly it got quiet. Somebody called out and we all answered in turn. No pigs got killed in the process. No blood, no squeals, no nothing.
The miracle was that none of us got shot either. I fired 13 or 14 rounds, the others probably at least that many. Very bad hunting technique, and we discussed this gambit over beer many times. Later that day we tried our luck with squirrels. I missed a few with the m-1 (probably just as well, they were hollow points too) and I don't remember what the other guys got. My dinner that night probably was something frozen.

We were successful on other occasions, including the time I shot two shrinking pigs at the same time. Another tale for another time.

Image: http://i.ytimg.com/vi/tKssLCDecgQ/0.jpg

Storm Clouds on the Right

The winds of change are blowing. Political winds are blowing hard from the right. With phrases like “Take back the country” a surge of voters are falling for the ultra right premise that the Bush years were the good old days and somehow the last two have been a disaster. Back to abortion bans, back to wars we shouldn’t be in, back to tax cuts that bankrupt the nation, back to failed energy policy, back to skyrocketing health costs, back to government intrusion into private lives (illegal phone taping for example), back to suspended Habeas Corpus, back to bank failures, back to the housing bubble bursting. The list goes on and on. And still the call for “Roll back the wave of liberalism and restore sanity” goes on.
I fear there is no hope for the country when truth and logic are trumped by lies, half truths and fear mongering. The road ahead is a rough one, but we are on the right road. Going back is never the right answer. Unless, that is, you want to go back to the Clinton days. Now there was prosperity! What happened to it? It got Bush-wacked.
Image: http://www.ontheissues.org/My_Life.jpg

My Game, My Rules

This Blog is a place where my opinion trumps yours. My opinion is this: Libraries are places where reading materials of all stripes should be available to everyone. The community should not direct the content of libraries. The majority should not have the right to dictate to the minority what they can and should read. Libraries should be places where the freedom to seek and find material with different points of view is guaranteed. No vocal group, majority or minority should have the final say in content of libraries. Libraries that have a point of view should be identified as such: Library of Flat Earth; Library of Religious Intolerance; Library of Dangerous Ideas.
Anyone that wants libraries to be crafted to support certain points of view can try check out books on Democracy or Women’s Rights at the State Library of Iran. Or try to hold a protest march against the Communist Manifesto in Beijing. Get real folks. Freedom comes with some level of discomfort because it means that the opinions of others must be tolerated.
Image: commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:CENSORED.JPG

SeekFind, Jewogle I'mHalal (1)

These are the names of search engines for the pure of heart. In other words, these engines are specifically designed to filter out any information or point of view that conflicts with the beliefs of the searcher, and delivers only material that agrees with their point of view. This is a way of protecting young people from dangerous content like, oh I don’t know, maybe the Earth is round, or Evolution is a real factor in the development of life, or women have value outside of the bed or home. Or that there is more than one religion in the world that might, just might, have some core values that are correct.
Christians will get only arguments against gay marriage if they search for “gay marriage”, and a search for the “Democratic Party” yields first a site on Marxism. A quick look at I’mHalal on gay marriage got articles about the blasphemous nature of these marriages and statements that no Muslim could be involved in a gay marriage. Not surprisingly, Jewogle had the most liberal returns with some articles seemingly on both sides of the issue. Google returned lots of varying perspectives depending on what was entered.
So my point is this: Anyone that is afraid of new ideas that might contradict or even contravene their own ideas is moving in the direction of a dangerous Ideologue (Synonyms include crusader, fanatic, zealot and others) (2). This kind of thinking has led in the past and can lead in the future to unthinking racism that results in multiethnic clashes (recently remember the genocide in Rwanda, the ethnic cleansing in the Balkans and the genocide currently happening in the Sudan.) Could it happen here? Damn right it could. It already is. Evidence: Qur’an burning threat in Gainesville; Mosque building in NYC; periodic burning of “black” churches; desecration Jewish graves in cemeteries. Oh yes, it can happen here. You better be careful what you wish for. You might just get it.
(Source material for this warning started with NPR and concluded with Google.)
1. http://www.seekfind.org/; http://www.jewogle.com/; www.imhalal.com/beta/
2. http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/ideologue
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=129709336

Image: http://www.liberalities.com/pics/Intolerance.PNG

Dying To Kill Ducks

I got our very early that morning, going to the “Deer Pen Chain” of ponds to shoot ring neck ducks. I only hunted with a Fox side-by-side 12 gauge, so I loaded up with 2 boxes of high brass #6 for ducks and headed out. I also always carried a few 00 buck magnums in case a pig or deer decided to commit suicide.
These ponds were wadable with chest waders, so I donned them, filled the shell pocket with a bunch of shells including the buckshot and waded. Dawn. The ring necks always flew in just before sunrise so I had to get there early and get in place. The water was a little over belly button deep, so no trouble moving slowly. Gun overhead and making progress. In place and the faint whistle of wings and BLAM somebody shoots. BLAM BLAMBLAM. Now I am shooting. One falls then another. They sink never to be seen again. Quiet. I had reloaded right after firing the last two shots and was ready. Whistle - shoot - whistle - shoot until I am out of # 6. No ducks in the bag.But, I still have the 2 buckshot shells.and the ducks still come in. Why not? There, a little to the right. Swing and FIRE. KABOOM!!! The duck explodes and I almost go over backwards. Crap. Slippery bottom (not mine, the pond you pervert). Now it’s really light and the morning fly is over so I head back, thinking later maybe I will jump a few woodies or if lucky a pig. On the way out I step in a hole and go straight down, holding the old Fox overhead. Fortunately the hole was only chin deep. Any deeper and I wouldn’t be writing this, but some old Duck somewhere would be telling about the jerk that drowned trying to kill him. But now the next problem. Waders are made to keep you dry by keeping water out. When they fill up with water they weigh a ton and don’t have a drain plug. So the only way to get out of the damn pond (with no ducks) is to drop the waders to my waste, hold them up with one hand and hold the Fox with the other and walk like a 2 year old with a pants full. The shallower the water got the lower I have to drop the waders. I finally climb out of the waders and drag the bastard feet first to shore.
That was it for me that day. Could have had a sixpak and a steak for the price of the shells, but then where would the story have been?
http://www.bigcamo.com/media/stearnsstockingfootlarge.jpg

Never Eat a Shiner

This is a continuation of the series of experiences with odd food.
I found myself living in a popup trailer in a rather scummy trailer park. Barely enough money to cover gas and serious essentials like beer, and not much left over for food. There was a small pond next to the park, and one afternoon I decided to try for a couple of brim for supper, having eaten the last hotdog for breakfast. I threw out a white popper and almost at once got a hit. Smallish brim. Keep or let go? Hmmm. Well, “he’s a fish ain’t he” as an old fisherman once told me, so I kept him (or her). After several more casts another hit. More fight. Silvery. I landed the thing, looked at it and thought “I don’t know what you are, but you are a fish.” More casts, no more fish.
After the usual beheading, gutting and scaling I got ready for supper. Yummm. Fresh fried fish and beans. The fish fried to a nice brown while the beans heated. I ate the brim first. Good but small. On to the mystery fish. Boney. Very boney. Geeze! Bifurcated bones all throughout the meat. Take a small forkful and debone it with tongue and lips. What a pain. But it tasted good and “He’s a fish, ain’t he?”
Later in describing the critter I learned it was probably a large shiner, normally used for bait, but this time the meal itself. Now the lesson here is this: unless you are very hungry and poor, never eat a shiner. While they taste OK, the bones make the effort hardly worth it. Should have hooked the shiner on a weedless hook and gone for a bass. Now that would have been a meal. Oh well. Sometime you have to fish or cut bait, and sometimes you have to fish and eat bait. And sometimes you ARE the bait. Life is funny that way.

Image: www.ksuaquaculture.org/Species/Baitfish.htm