Labels: pHOTO:r. KERN
Once every 75,000 years Chanukah falls on the American holiday of Thanksgiving. Tomorrow is the day. Who cares? What happened to the rut? All that buck -chasing- doe excitement that I had under my stand in mid-October, has turned to distant memories. I haven't seen a legal shooter all gun season, let alone either of the two big ones I know are out there. There's no action. Day after drizzily, windy, freezing, fucking cold day, I hit the woods. I'm concentrating on two spots. If I want to get a home cooked meal and some rut activity of mine own, I add WSS. I promised not to shoot any of Shewho's lawn does, but Chuck can't resist leaving me a phone message: "I know you are busy, but there's a big buck under the apple tree. See you Thanksnukah."
I apologize to my readers for going blank. It being the first week of gun season, I've been busy. Since it's pouring rain this morning, I slept in. Here's the update:
Maybe it started years ago when the Grand Dragon of the KKK moved to town. Or it could've been when those flying saucers were spotted just over the tree tops. Was it in the flouride in the water? Or has it always been part of the fabric of these rural towns scattered throughout our entire country? In any case I wasn't too surprised when I read in the paper that the school system in Pine Bush was in deep shit over incidents of anti-semitism involving students and staff. What was surprising was that a day after a NYTimes article exposing this behavior was published, NY Gov. Cuomo and the Feds instituted investigations in Pine Bush. Back on the mountain, the roofers had finally showed up at the shul, so I had my afternoon free. I jumped in the car and headed for Pine Bush.
Labels: PHOTO:© GEORGE HOLZ
Contrary to what you may have read in revisionist history, in the early 90's I worked the door at the recently closed bar Max. Fish and wrote a monthly column for trendy PAPER magazine. Typical of most who left the scene in those days- outta sight, outta mind. I've been gone so long, nobody remembers that I was even there. One of my last assignments at PAPER was to cover the spring fashion shows. Looking back, fashion was a rarefied, niche industry in those days. The big name designers of today like Isaac Mizrahi and Betsy Johnson held their shows in soho lofts and nightclubs, the scene not quite co-opted by Bryant Park pop culture. I counted myself "hip" enough to get in the door and rub elbows with Andre the Giant and Anna Vogue, not to mention Christy, Naomi and Veronica. Part of my job description at PAPER was "soothsayer". My prediction for pre-internet, late 20th century entertainment? Fashion....and all that comes with it. Gotta say, I was right.
First snow last night. We got about a half inch at WSSP and a slight dusting here at the shack. The roofers finally showed up at the shul yesterday afternoon and I'm keeping my fingers crossed they'll get it done before the next storm. Winter's fast approaching. In the meantime I've been stalking turkeys in the big meadow at WSS. The first time out I spotted a good flock high on the hill. The problem was they spotted me at the same time and although they didn't spook, they went on high alert. Back tracking, I was able to sneak within 200 yards, before hitting the crunchy leaves. They went up like a flock of crows. I never had a chance.
Last year, a few days after the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting, I posted on fb, an old picture of me in a LA hotel room, in a plushy white bathrobe and shades, holding my 9mm. This was the image I had used, not only as a fb profile pic, but as representative of a piece I had done- legally carrying my pistol from NY to Cali. Before Sandy Hook nobody said boo. In the hysterical wake surrounding the massacre in Newtown, Ct., people couldn't wait to tell me how much of an asshole I was. After the killing of a TSA agent at LAX last week, let me tell you this story again.
It didn't take long. As soon as I changed my stance on the change in NY's law on legalized gaming in the state, the lines lit up and the emails began pouring in. The excitement in the air was palpable. Coincidently, yesterday was a big day at the shul/casino. I'd hired roofers and the surveyor finally showed up to set the pins and move one step closer to closing on the property. Rain was forecast for last night, so I had my hands full overseeing getting the place buttoned up. Even though it had been leaking for years.....it could always get worse with improper treatment. By dark the tarps were flapping in the breeze and my fingers were crossed that they would not blow off in the storm. So, at mid-day when I received an email from Diamond Dave to attend a meet and greet with the Gov. I had to beg off and remain in town.
Blame Shewho. She did not register to vote. So now we have casinos. I think the scapegoat mantel can be passed from PGH to her shoulders without too much difficulty. Maybe that will allow George to settle down and make a better shot on a deer. Good luck buddy. You should feel lighter already.
Labels: PHOTO: Diamond Dave
History is a funny thing. Growing up in the post-war 50's, my youth was spent battling imaginary enemies in the fields and woodlots of upstate NY. Invading hordes of Indians, Japs and Nazis were kept at bay with cap guns, sling shots and dirt clods. Before you knew it, time had passed and you were carrying a real .22, stalking woodchucks and visualizing what it would be like to be trudging through the jungles of Vietnam, fighting our newest enemy- Charlie. Thankfully, by the time I was of draft age I'd left these childhood killer fantasies behind and got my II-S deferment, avoiding military service by staying in college until the draft ended in the early 70's. I haven't killed any Nazis in years. The War is over....if you want it to be.
Labels: pHOTO:mARIANA rOTHEN
The deer have been butchered and smoked. My prescription for antibiotics is done and the hole in my leg has healed. Halloween and Shewho's bday are over. Opening day of gun is over two weeks away and the rut is heating up. I've taken Smokey's double barrel "Jake" out for turkeys a couple of times and even called in about a dozen birds over at WSSP II. After shooting that little doe I didn't want to repeat killing a small animal, so I never took a shot at the two hens and 10 poults. No matter how tender, there just isn't enough meat to justify the kill. Most days I work in the shul and pray the roof doesn't collapse with every rain storm.