Labels: pHOTO:mARIANA rOTHEN
Labels: pHOTO:mARIANA rOTHEN
As I write this, a tick falls from my hair and scuttles across the keyboard. That's why I'm a mac person. Can't spot 'em on those black PCs. The season ended at noon today. I gave it one last try. In the woods by 4:45 am, I heard one roost gobble about a mile away, towards Diamond Dave's. That was it. I saw nothing and heard nothing more. Aside from the ticks, the mosquitos had awoken with the warm, wet weather, making the hot morning even more miserable. I confess, I didn't make it until noon. All in all it was a spotty season. I'd missed birds, and hit birds. But that day, when they gobble at everything and they drive you crazy all morning, never came. The weather was unseasonably cold and rainy. The birds never talked. But as much as i bitch about silent turkeys and bad weather, I got nothing on little brother Smokey. Here's how he spent Memorial weekend.
I got no reason to complain, but God Bless America, we provide an institutionalized forum for just that. As everyone knows by now, I'm buying the old Glen Wild Synagogue. I will finally own the two remaining religious, as well as historical, buildings left in Glen Wild, NY. My master plan is coming together. I don't know who said "Control religion and history and you really got something." Maybe it was me. But in any case the cost of this , although more than reasonable in purchase price, comes with a hefty tax bill. My 90 year old real estate agent Ruby, assures me that the town will be reasonable. So after a weekend of cows, turkeys and supermodels, I went to "grievance".
Memorial weekend 2013 started Friday night with the arrival of 'duardo- HWSTV camera man and his beautiful wife and daughter, Cicalli and Layla. Next came Chuck McC, his wife the Contessa Hughes Freeland and their son (and CLGM Cardinal) Tristan Epic. Lastly we all awaited anxiously to see if the stars of the weekend would show. Around 8:30, in came the supermodels- Hollie Witchey, Mystery Girl and the newest member of the team French stunner Tangerine. The cast was complete. Shewo outdid herself with another one of her amazing meals. The idea was to get up at 5 am and hunt the morning behind The Hollie Witchey Project. Obstacle number one: the weather.
A couple of days ago my GOD LOVES FAGS and GOD LOVES DYKES billboards returned to retake their places along Old Glen Wild Rd., just in time for the Memorial Day Hassidic migration. They're a little bulky, so yesterday i rang up Pigpen to see if he could give me a hand at the end of the day. He and PETAJohn showed up, along with PP's dog Darby. When I say this mutt is brain dead is to do him a favor. Don't get me wrong, he's pleasant enough, but.......he barks every time he sees me and takes after my cats with "intent". "Oh, he's just playing." Pigpen assures me. No he's not. He's serious. Ray streaks behind the wood pile. Spooky heads for the church and Ballzy runs up a pine tree. When all the excitement dies down and Darby gets exiled to the pick up, Nicole climbs on the table and sneezes blood into Pigpen's "Glen Wild Ice Tea". "Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww......" We're all disgusted.
Labels: pHOTO:mARIANA rOTHEN
You won't believe me, so let me list them first. Madison Hill Farm- owner RNButch, manager: Carlito. Denniston Hill Farm- owners Julie Merhetu, Paul Pffeifer and Dr. Lawrence Chua, Trussbridge Farm- owner Diamond Dave, Irish Liz and Pigpen Rothman, PETAJohn Animal Sanctuary- owner GNJohn, Majestic Farm- owners Birka, Wheels and Buddy Budde....and that's just in the neighborhood. When I first moved here there was Ray Gilkey's Pony and Beefalo Farm and a rodeo rider by the name of Bill, who trained cutting horses on the Parker Place (now Madison Hill). All these other operations have moved here in the 21st Century. And like the century itself, they are redefining what it means to be a farm.
About 10 years before Damien Hirst bought a cow, had a butcher cut it in half and put it in a big fish tank filled with formaldehyde, I had already found a number of individuals to be tattooed, and had purchased, branded and boarded a cow on a farm in California. The correlation between the tattoos and branding was simple. I had considered the gesture of tattooing, and all it's implications of "the mark" and pain. Pulling "bloodprints" from each person, I was confident that the final product firmly placed this within the art context. The mark was permanent and the pain was temporary. Wanting to expand this to an animal, the logical choice seemed to be a cow and the traditional use of a hot branding iron as a device in order to achieve the mark. The human pain of getting a tattoo seemed about the same as a branding for a cow. About a year after branding the cow, it somehow got out on the road and was hit and killed by a pick up truck. The hide was regrettably lost in the shuffle, but the farmer did send me numerous steaks, which I salted and dried, turning them into art objects. 33 years later I still have them.
I'm on the phone with Mystery Girl, going over plans for Cow Branding Bikini Car Wash Saturday. She and Hollie Witchey were having a meeting without me in the city, while I concentrated on trying to get famous fotog George Holz a turkey. I tell MG how we've been gorging ourselves on fresh watercress, chantrelle mushrooms, fingerling potatoes, venison, trout and ramps......when she cuts me off in that charming "stamp her foot" way she has. "If I hear that word "ramp" one more time, I'm gonna puke!" It shows just what a foodie culture the NY has become. Forget sex. It's all about the chow. Fresh ramps go for $35 per pound in the city. Where I hunt the ground is literally covered in them. Then I tell MG my recent hunting camp experience guiding George Holz.
I started the season with 5- 3" #6 12 ga. shotgun shells. What with all the controversy over what to shoot out of Jake, he sits patiently in the corner, until I can figure it out. These shells are what I shoot out of my Browning pump. It's a good turkey load. I thought that would be enough for the season. I was wrong. So lets recap. I missed a bird with Tristan and shot a bird behind Diamond Dave's. Yesterday I slid three shells in the gun, and parked Shirley down by the bridge. My plan was to walk GNJohn's mountain and see if I could raise a gobble.
Labels: pHOTO:r. KERN
These days, when I'm not in the woods, I'm catching catnaps, checking emails and watching reality TV. I'm off fb. It was a mutual split. The TV watching is research for what's out there in the genre, just in case I get a chance to step up. It's pretty bleak. The really successful ones like Duck Dynasty or Deadliest Catch are boring as shit. And new contenders are still coming. Chasing Tail is a group of addicted deer hunters from Vermont plopped down in suburban Ct. to "lawn hunt" pesky bush eaters. These guys can't get enough deer killing out of their blood back home, so they lay a buck down on the pool cover and hang another stand over the tennis courts. It's kinda pitiful. The one bright light is Small Town Security. This one rocks.
The weather's been amazing. Every day dawns bright and blue. Except for a bit of a morning chill, the temps. warm to the low 70's by about 10:00 am. Perfect turkey hunting weather, right? Well, not exactly. For some reason, the same system that makes trudging through the spring woods, watching the trees bud before your eyes so pleasant, can shut the gobblers up. The woods become dead quiet. Yesterday I didn't hear a gobble nor see a bird all morning- totally skunked. Days like that, a week into the season, without a turkey in the freezer, start to wear on you. Your self esteem is at a low point. You question your ability to call, find birds, and when the chips are down, make the shot. I'm such a tool I tell myself. I've said it many times before. In hunting, like art, you must make failure your friend. There's no getting around it. Your only choice is to set the alarm and face the music (or lack thereof) one more morning.
Labels: photo: William Eadon
My modeling career has been spotty. It started with MACHO MODELING. My idea was to get modeling gigs for "manly" products like guns, cigarettes, hunting magazines, ect. I did get one gig as the poster boy for SPORTS AFIELD holding a deer rifle and then I hit a dry spell....... of about 30 years. But this weekend I went back in the business.
Labels: photo: William Eadon
The season so far: