Deer Season

As most of you know, I am a son of the South. That means I say “Yes Ma’am”, love anything fried, and due to my age, know that when you hear the words “Jubilee, Jubilee, you're invited to this happy Jubilee” it means it is time to get out of your pajamas, put your suit on, and go to church.

There are a couple of stereotypical Southern things that I never have not gotten into. One is NASCAR. Sure, I think Richard Petty is important, but I’ve never been able to follow the sport. I don’t think I could pick out Greg Biffle, who drives the Number 16 Ford Fusion for Rousch Fenway Racing from Carl Edwards who drives the Number 99 Ford Fusion for Rousch Fenway Racing. The only thing I know about racing is that Jeff Gordon is probably a homosexual (that’s a joke son).

The other Southern thing I’ve never gotten into is Deer Hunting. Now before you start saying I’m the Jeff Gordon of Southern Humor, let me advise you that I really, really, really, really like women. I also don’t find anything morally wrong with Deer Hunting like some people do. Hey, if you want to hunt, more power to you.

One thing I could do without is the “All Purpose Deer Hunting Story”.  Every story I’ve heard in 53 years of listening to deer hunting stories sounds about the same.

“I got up at about 3:30 in the morning and drove to the deer camp. You wouldn’t know about that because you were all curled up in the bed like Jeff Gordon with his husband. I climbed up the tree with my deer stand I bought at Bass Pro Shops when you were acting all la-DE-da at Starbucks drinking your fancy four dollar coffee.

It was just about daybreak when I saw him: a twelve point buck! (Editorial comment: When you see the picture of the buck, it has three points). I looked through my scope I bought at Cabelas. com on the World Wide Web. This scope with its U.S.-engineered 4X optical system is fully multicoated for a bright, clear image even in low-light conditions.  Which is good thing too because this deer had to be either three football fields away from me or it was in another county. It might have been in another state or country. I’m not sure.

Me and the wife had a big fight about this scope. She couldn’t believe I spent the money on it when we were trying to save money to send little Shane and Cody to Preacher School if the Lord calls them or the University of Georgia if they backslide. I told her that she buys the expensive beans at Krogers, like Van Camps, when we could just as easily eat the store brand. So I told her to 'get off my back woman'. She didn't like that much and threw a can of beans at me. We don't talk about it much anymore.

Anyway, I aimed and fired. Booooooosh”

Every hunting story I’ve ever heard ended with the hunter imitating how the gun sounded when he shot it. Sometimes it is “Booooooosh”. Sometimes it is “Pow”. Sometimes it is “Bang”.

In the interest of equal time, I will be happy to publish a picture of Joe Biden shooting off anything besides his mouth.

When some people deer hunt, they splash themselves with “Red Fox Urine” (no truth in advertising problem here—it is exactly what it claims to be) to hide their scent from the deer. It turns out, deer are fairly smart in that they can sniff a man wearing some Old Spice cologne from several counties away. Cabela’s has Red Fox Urine on sale for 4.99.I would have loved to have been in that Marketing Meeting. “Men, we’ve got to push the urine out for this quarter”.

Wouldn't it be funny if this bottle said, "Redd Foxx Urine" and the advertisements could say "Hey, Big Dummy: Buy Redd Foxx Urine"?

The real reason I don’t hunt: just never did. Plus it happens too early in the morning. If we could ambush the deer at around 1:00 in the afternoon, I might be interested. Otherwise, I would probably resemble the man in this picture.