“A good way to make sure a problem is never resolved is to avoid measuring it.” Author Unknown
Bubba 1 - “It’s your turn to knock the ice off of the decoys. The jerk string is froze up again.”
Bubba 2 - “How cold do you think it really is?”
Bubba 1 - “I could have sworn that just after the sun came up I saw a brass monkey walking up and down the river bank looking for frantically for something.
That’s how cold it is.”
B2 - “We haven’t seen more than five ducks in the last two hours. What difference does it make if we de-ice the decoys or not?”
B1 - “Maybe some new ducks will finally show up after that last snow. We can always be optimistic.”
B2 - “Optimistic? Maybe bored would be a more fitting term.”
B1 - “I think you need a vacation or something. Even after that nice snow we just had, you seem somewhat preoccupied, or more depressed than normal. Lately your aura of negativity is shinning a little bright. What exactly is going on with you?”
B2 - That was a nice snow. It reminded me of the rabbit hunts we used to long for every time it snowed.
B1 - Well, it reminded me of how we used to waterproof our socks by wearing Colonial bread bags over our socks in our boots.
B2 - Those were the good old days for sure. Remember how your two crazy Uncles used to laugh at us for wearing bread bags?
B1 - Old Uncle Elwood and Uncle Joe D went to their graves arguing about what was the best water proofing for leather boots. Elwood swore that mink oil was the only solution and old Joe D swore neats foot oil worked best. Neither one would have ever been caught dead with bread bags on their feet.
B2 - And after about two hours into every wet rabbit hunt; remember how they’d stop and build a big fire so they could dry their socks? And we’d tell them how dry our feet were just to @%!$ ‘em off?
B1 - And remember how they’d pass that half pint of moonshine Joe D always made. And they’d let us smoke rabbit tobacco in our corn cob pipes?
B2 - By the time their socks had dried out; they didn’t care if they waded creeks knee deep or not.
B1 - I miss those old guys.
B2 - Me too; those were the days.
B1 - So what’s bothering you all of a sudden?
B2 - I’ve been reading a lot lately.
B1 - I’ve never known you to read much more than Outdoor Life, Field and Stream or the occasional Fur Fish and Game. You didn’t get suckered into that new fangled paperless newspaper on a pad did you?
B2 - An electric newspaper? No #$%%^ way! That’s one of the goofiest ideas in the history of journalism as far as I’m concerned. The sharp pencil that came up with a newspaper without paper must have been pretty deep into La-La land when that decision was made. You know that I consider myself to be a recycling environmentalist of the highest order?
B1 - What?
B2 - You can’t wrap fish in a pad, and you can’t start a fire in the wood stove with a pad. And, you can’t clean windows without some newspaper? Newspaper was invented for multiple purposes; you see.
B1 - You know at times you absolutely astound me with a fairly good point.
B2 - Why last Sunday I had to saddle the roan mare and ride all the way to the crossroads ‘Gas and Go’ just to find an honest and real Sunday paper. I bought the local fish wrap and a big fat Sunday paper out of New York. You know what that set me back? It cost #$%% $9.00! Can you believe that?
B1 - $9.00 for two Sunday papers? You got a pretty bad habit Bubba. You can buy a lot of kerosene to start your fires with $9.00.
B2 - You can’t wash windows and wrap fish in kerosene, moron.
B1 - You got me there.
B2 - The big paper had this story from some investigative journalist about how Covid has spilled over from humans to mink in European and North American Mink farms; and how everything the Europeans tried in Europe to stop the mink from getting Covid from humans had failed miserably. The US of A didn’t even try to do anything to stop the spread. And now, we’ve got mink loose from unmonitored American farms infecting wild mink all over the place. But, it gets worse. We’ve got deer infected with Covid from humans. We’ve got deer with EHD and CWD exploding all over North America and nothing to stop it is working here either. It’s just a matter of time beforeCWD and Covid gets into my herd. That got me to thinking. How many deer in Tennessee are tagged each year and what percentage of them were tested for CWD and Covid? Does anybody in this state test dead deer for CWD and Covid that have run out in front of trucks? Why isn’t every dead deer tested in this state? It’s a nightmare of questions that no one seems to want to answer.
B1 - You know, a wise man once said that a good way to make sure a problem is never solved is to avoid measuring it. Do you think that Fauci or the CDC is involved in exposing some kind of mink farm coverup?
B2 - Good night nurse, how on earth would they help? They change their story daily.
B1 - Maybe the NCAA could step in. They seem marginally adroit at something viral on rare occasions.
B2 - There’s another thing that’s bothering me; the NCAA. Now we’ve got college swimmers that were swimming for men’s teams for years and then suddenly they had some change of heart, or some other organ, and now they’re swimming on the women’s teams. How in that world can that be?
B1 - I wish I could help you with that one, but I can’t. Maybe opens some strange door for the SEC or ACC to establish a conference of women’s collegiate football teams. Maybe women football and ESPN contracts are some strange kind of solution for this transfer portal nightmare. If a guy didn’t feel like his coach would give him the playing time he deserved, he could just claim he was female and be a starter, or better yet a star, in the women’s backfield. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
B2 - You amaze me at times. You really do, you know that?
B1 - Sorry, just trying to help you out of your funk. What’s wrong with a women’s football conference?
B2 - Then, on top of all that, the everybody at church has the Covid. There’s the ammo shortage, the madness in DC, inflation, the obvious attempt to divert our attention from all of this to war in the Ukraine, the supply chain meltdown, the decline in Turkey populations around here, outlawing trail cameras and corn piles, the price hikes in aiming fluid and the more I read, the longer the list gets and the deeper I sink into the muck of the impending future. It’s getting to me Bubba.
B1 - Remember the words of old John Prine; Blow up your TV, move to the country, build yourself a home, grow a little garden, eat a lot of peaches and try to find Jesus on your own.
B2 - I miss John every day, even if he did leave us with some of the finest music ever made.
B1 - Look at ten o’clock, Is that a duck?
B2 - No. Those look like crows.
B1 - You have a pretty impressive list of things that are managing to get you down.
B2 - I know it. The more I read the worse it gets.
B1 - Can I give you a suggestion? Quit reading the stuff you’re reading. You never know how much of it is just good journalistic misdirection or how much of it is purely fake news.
B2 - Two o’clock, are those ducks?
B1 - Nope. Seagulls.
B2 - I might try your idea and go back to just reading Field and Stream. Look out on that sand bar. Are those ducks or coots?
B1 - Is a coot really a duck? You ever try to eat a coot?
B2 - I once hunted with a Cajun that ate coots when Nutria was in short supply. He called it his last resort supper meat.
B1 - Tell you what I’ll do for you old friend, and I’ll only do this for you because you’re my “pard”. I’ll give you one shell for a shot at the next coot that flies over, and if you hit it, and the dog will retrieve it in all this ice, I’ll smother it in cajun seasoning, Texas Pete, fry it up and eat it. I’ll do this if it’ll help you pull out of this depressing hole you’ve dug for yourself.
B2 - You’d do that for me?
B1 - I don’t figure you can actually hit a coot on the wing with one shot, but if it’ll help cure you; then I’ll give it a shot. What’s a partner good for?
B2 - Thanks pard’ I feel better already.
B1 - Twelve o’clock high. Is that a coot?
B2 - Yep!
B1 - @#$$%$