Man is in the Forest (With a Flask)…

maninforest

 

I have a friend named Mark who lives in Michigan. I’m thinking of him this morning. I was feeling resentful about not being able to drink yesterday, and it’s all his fault.

 

Mark is one of those people who does really fun, outrageous drinking activities and then goes back to his important job with great stories to tell. Then he doesn’t think about drinking again till the next boozy,recreational opportunity presents itself. I hate people like that.

 

Suspiciously Hale…

I spoke to him yesterday at 11:50 AM. You may ask why someone as haphazard as me knows exactly what time we spoke. I know because he sounded a bit hale and I was suspicious and I looked at my watch and asked, “Mark, have you been drinking?”

 

He said (in that bountiful, short vowel-ed, Michigander accent), “You know I hate to lie to you. I’m Up North on 4,000 acres and we’re getting ready to prepare for the traditional on-slot November 15th – come on – you can guess what I’m talking about… ”

 

I said, “You’re preparing to get ready for deer hunting?”

 

Memories…

And a flood of memories hit me. Upside down white-tail deer on a hook, bleeding out on the garage floor. My dad and brother leaving Thanksgiving dinner with sack lunches and bottles of bourbon. Carcasses on the car roof and gleeful, wind flushed relatives with the requisite, insider stories… 

 

I’ve never been deer hunting. I heard Mark’s voice and I wanted to go. But in my family, it was the purview of the men folk. I wanted to wear insulated pants tucked into mukluks and carry a rifle and a booze filled flask in the same hand and stay in a hunting shack and hit the camp-follower’s strip clubs after the kill with my hunting buddies.

 

And then I remembered my dad used to say, “The fun stops when you pull the trigger.”

 

I think that means it’s more of a gas to buddy-up and stalk one of God’s creatures than it is to drag its gutted carcass through several miles of snowy wilderness.

And it seemed like the perfect analogy to my drinking.

 

So thanks Mark, you lovable f**ker, for making me long for something I never had and will never have…

 

And watch out Bambi – Mark is in the forest…

 

 

Today I’m not drinking because I’m not going deer hunting…

How come you’re not drinking?