3 BLIND MICE

  The night before opening day found me on Paradise Pond, knocking back a few with Milawyer and his brother Savage Lynch. To my surprise Milawyer had purchased a NYS turkey permit and was on board for the May 1st hunt. I was tickled. I had a hunting buddy for the morning. Any time the 3 of us get together you can be sure the whiskey will flow and the stories and foolishness will follow. Imagine the cast of THE UNFORGIVEN without the gun play. We are all grizzled old timers with a life time of tales. We aren't related....but we might as well be.
    It didn't take long for me to pull out the eye medicine, and talk turned to ailments and how best to fix them. So happens this bunch all has glaucoma. If we had colostomies we would've commiserated of what was the best crap bag on the market. I'm the only dedicated pot smoker, so of course I fly the 4/20 flag. That's not to say my friends won't take a polite toke from time to time. As the conversation turned to depression, the hot little roach burned my finger tips. I rolled another.
   When the steaks and ramps were done we sat down, each with a glass of booze and a plate of red meat in front of us. I looked over at Savage and noticed he was bleeding from his finger. Between the bad peepers and hands so tough and calloused they are impervious to pain, he didn't notice he was holding his steak knife with the sharp edge up. He sawed into the steak, bearing down with his finger, wondering why he was having so much difficulty cutting off a piece of meat. By the time he noticed he'd had the knife inverted, it was too late. In genteel company you would expect one to quietly wrap the finger tip and continue with one's meal. The cast of HILLBILLY HAND FISHING looks like debutants in comparison. Before I knew it Savage was spewing blood everywhere, poking my chest with the offending digit and drumming the table (off the beat) to a very loud Steve Stills tune. Before I could react he'd drawn a big bloody cross and NATAS on my shirt, giggling like a little girl, and smirking at me with that sake fueled smile. We were helpless. Between Milawyer's expensive dinner table, blood splattered walls and my shirt, it looked like a crime scene. I poured another. It was gonna be a long night.

Milawyer was at my house at 5:30 am. The birds were hot as hell. But that's another story.