SPIN

 Let me just say, we seem to be winning. All the fears and predictions of blood in the streets have come to naught. Democracy has come out of one of its most challenging time periods in tact and ready to fight the next battle. Trump, in all his glory, has not been able to bring us to our knees. I for one feel relieved and optimistic. Am I being Pollyannish? Probably.  

     I know half the country disagrees with me, but fuck them. They are complete idiots. I'll give you a quick example, One of my pieces is called The Lion of Judah Cage. Recently Pigpen Rothman towed it down to the shul for a fresh exhibition. There I festooned it with  anti-Trump swag and an American flag emblazoned with Black Live Matter. Tonight I noticed the flag was missing. The person or persons that stole my flag offered up in consolation one blue lives matter flag and a Trump 2020 "No More Bullshit" flag......along with an empty beer bottle. How was I to take this?

   Shewho's spin was that some random person was so moved by the BLM flag that they gave up their racist and crackpot flags in exchange for "stealing" my flag. The empty beer bottle was left as 5 cent tribute for the flag. I like this take, as outlandish as it is. In the end-- as most everyone thought the Trumpies would burn the cage down in anger-- it's a minor development. Weeks after the election my art still pisses someone off enough to steal it. I feel vindicated. 

    But  fuck politics, what about deer hunting? There's a spot I never hunt because these old school Italian and Eastern European hunters always occupy it and I don't want to encroach. But this year they are MIA. So I decided to make a move, hoping they don't show up. It's a gray area. I humped in a stand and hung it on a nice edge. I wasn't in the the tree five minutes before I knew it wasn't right. Too tight. I couldn't see shit. So I climbed down and went in search of another tree. I found one. On the way back to my original stand I saw orange. Another hunter was coming towards me. Before I could say anything he stuck out his hand and asked "Mike?" Huh?

    My reputation as a deer hunter and bloggist had preceded me. He was  a neighbor (I'd never met) I'll call Mr. C. He told me he read my blog and when he was home in Jersey (as he was during the week) he enjoyed reading about some guy hunting the same woods he hunted on weekends. I can't get a publishing deal but I can meet a complete stranger in the woods who reads what I write. We chatted for a minute and I told him I was going to move my stand up the ridge and he could hunt the ridge overlooking the swamp. Mr. C agreed and we parted ways amicably.

    At 4:20 I heard a shot I thought to be from Mr. C's gun. After waiting to see if a buck would come through I got down from the tree and went in search of Mr.C. I found him walking in circles in the swamp. "Get him?" I yelled. He shook his head. For the next half hour we looked for blood and found nothing. This is a big part of deer hunting- the miss at the end of a hard week of hunting. Mr. C had been out there from opening day seeing only does and spikes. When he finally had a legal buck in front of him he shot and missed. It's happened to all of us. It's a big part of being a hunter....the failure. Yet. it's easy to spin. That spindly eight will be a helluva buck next year. And Mr. C may just get a bigger one. I just met a nice neighbor and a reader in the woods. That's a good day in anybody's book. Tomorrow? Who knows what will happen.