Thursday, July 01, 2004
Third Car Incident
I just got a call from the Burly Brother in the northern territories of NY. Well, ok, Ithaca is more 'central' NY than northern, but it is a lot more Northern than Philly! Whenever I call up there, they tell me it is really hot ... almost over 70 now. I nod in agreement at the phone melts in my hand from the stifling heat emitted from the blast-furnace environment here. In any event, my little brother (who is in no stretch of the mind "small") gave me a jingle to let me know he pegged a deer last night. Apparently, it did a pretty good job on his passenger side fender. Moderate damage, but that wasn't the point. It was the damn deer. Deer in that neck of the woods have started to become a big problem. There are no predatation and the LLL/PETA crowd from Cornell/Ithaca College are so intent on making sure that there are no Bambi-killers in the area that the population has gotten out of control. The deer know no fear and are ferociously devouring everything in sight. The free handouts from the local populace entices them into the built up areas in greater numbers and they are not leaving. There are more deer today in New York than the total population of Eastern North America when the May-flower first hit land. I know there are some out there who oppose shooting Bambi, but death by starvation and the more frequent smack-down by automotive vehicle can't be all that pleasant. My family comes from a long line of hunters, trappers and basically folk who made their livelihood off the land. We have a thin trace to Clark of 'Lewis and Clark' on my Amish Hero Dad's side. The hunting stopped with my father and mother, but I do enjoy my meat. The Devouring Duo of Voracious Consumption like their beef jerky as much as I do. Mrs MDMHVONPA is the exception. It has to be a onion burger or chicken (with the occasional chunk of jerky). We will convert her, and some day she too will enjoy the joys of truly being at the top of the food chain. We do not process our own carcasses though. I'm not entirely overjoyed when I have to muck around with a capon or turkey carcass. This will probably interfere with my desires to some day get into hunting. That, and I'm sure that the Mrs will have no part in yet another aspect of the middle-age male neurosis. In any event, the idea that deer will some day become sentient and develop culture or language is a bit absurd given their predilections for playing chicken with cars. Stupid deer.