Monday, November 27, 2006

Cup of Soup and a Box of Ammo

If you decide to come and visit Ohio this week, don't. Today is the first day of gun season for deer hunting. Living in a rural area like this one, we only get to see rush-hour traffic coming into the area one time of the year, and this is it. In this case rush hour is from 4 A.M. to about 6, as people from the big cities up north make their way down here to do a lot of drinking and shooting.

I've always been on the borderline in my opinion of deer hunting. I'm not totally against hunting them for meat, but so many people go into the woods for a chance just to kill something and call it a sport. I see it as a cruel ritual. When six or seven guys are yelling and making a lot of noise to herd the deer toward other fifteen other guys waiting to shoot them I see no sport at all. My son went out this morning with a large group of hunters. My wife commented that if they only get a couple of deer that he wouldn't get much of the meat. He said that most of the guys don't even want any, they just want to shoot something. I know that I'm in the minority in my thinking, but I just can't believe that the community could welcome all the chaos each year. Sure, the convenience stores and gas stations benefit from additional sales, but there are quite a few women's groups who host a "hunter's breakfast" or a soup kitchen where they can go and get a hot meal served to them... free. This might have been an excellent idea way back when men went out and hunted so their families would have food for the long winter, but personally I would take offense if my wife wanted to donate her time and her food so that a businessman from Akron can pull up in his Hummer and get some breakfast before tramping over a farmer's fence and shooting his horse in the excitement of seeing something moving in the field.

My views on the mass charge into the woods by the armed swarm probably were formed when, as a youngster growing up in the country, I would witness hoards of people going across our property, ignoring the signs we put up telling them they couldn't hunt there, climbing over and breaking down our fences, and generally making it unsafe to step foot out the door. We had our house hit one year by a stray shotgun slug that hit the outside wall near my parents' bedroom while my mom was in the room.
I'd just like to see a little civility brought to the season, but I'm sure nothing will change anytime soon. So if you do decide to come and visit me soon...don't wear your reindeer costume.


Blogger Bird on a Wire said...

Absolutely terrifying. Makes you wonder why they don't save some money and just buy an Xbox.

5:50 PM  
Blogger Laura said...

My father has gone hunting every year ever since he was a boy. unlike the hunters you describe in your story, he actually hunts for the meat. We come from a long line of farmers and they would hunt and fish to put food on the table. Personally, I don't care much for hunting down Bambi's mother, but who am I to judge.

8:23 PM  
Blogger Michelle's Spell said...

I agree with you, Tim! I think hunting for meat is fine, but the jerks who do it to shoot something, well, there's shooting ranges, right? I like to shoot McDonald's cups and enjoy it a lot, but don't think I could bring myself to shoot an animal for sport. I nearly got shot myself while visiting my friend Hank's grave last year -- scary Deliverance country for sure!

9:02 AM  

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