Sh*t I Don't Understand: Hunting

I'm not sure if I even want someone to enlighten me on this or not, but I just don't get the appeal of hunting. Hundreds of years ago? Sure. It was the only way to survive unless you lived in an area conducive to farming and could grow your own food. But in this day and age? Not so much. It baffles me to see these dudes who are gung-ho, can't-live-without-it about hunting. Now, it's not the killing of animals that really bothers me, I don't want to get anyone thinking that's the direction I'm going with this. There are areas where certain animals are overpopulated and hunting does a service to the ecosystem, and at least in this country hunting is regulated pretty well, so rest assured I'm not going to harp on moral grounds here.

No, my thing is, I just don't see how in the hell hunting is considered fun. Let me get this straight. I'm going to drive out to the middle of nowhere. I'm going to throw on some orange just in case Dick Cheney is around. I'm going to sit my ass up in a tree or face down in the middle of the weeds somewhere, oftentimes covered in some semblance of animal urine to give off the right scent. And then I'm going to....wait. And then I'm going to wait some more. I remain there and stare at nothing until, if I'm lucky, an unsuspecting deer prances by or a flock of geese fly within the range of the gun I probably paid an embarrassing sum of money for. And if I'm not freezing my ass off by that point I'll aim, fire, and hopefully be the proud owner of a nice fresh carcass that I can mount on my wall at home and use to creep people out. This is best-case scenario, by the way. You talk to people that hunt a lot and it's not uncommon for them to take these big ass hunting trips, come back empty-handed, and still somehow rave about how great of a time they had.

Oh hell yeah, that sounds like my ideal getaway, let me tell you. 36 holes at Pebble Beach, or three days of that previous paragraph repeated over and over? Wow, talk about your all-time dilemmas. Where is the sport in hunting, anyway? That's why I doubt I could ever get into it; if there's no ball it's tough for me to consider something a sport. If you're hunting with a bow and arrow, that's one thing. But you see these guys go hunting with these new high-tech guns so they can go out and shoot some oblivious primate in the back of the neck from 50 yards away? Way to go there, pal. What an act of competitive skill that is. That must have been so difficult, why don't we just tie the damn thing to a tree for you next time while we're at it? Considering that a real accomplishment is like rooting for Arnold in the first few scenes of The Terminator before Kyle Reese shows up.

And above all else, you gotta get that picture with the dead animal and you giving a big thumbs-up, or you holding the thing up by the antlers or some other dignity-robbing pose - because you know you gotta show that shit off to all your friends at your regular Mensa meetings down at Cabela's. "Aw man, look'er here at that dang stag our here boy Earl done bagged himself! Ain't he some heckuva feller?!" What cracks me up is that nobody else does this in any other hobby. I sure as hell didn't have John I take a picture of me and the loaded bar after the first time I benched over 300. And if I ever make a hole-in-one, I doubt it will cross my mind to have someone take a picture of me kneeling and pointing at the ball in the cup.

Yet hunting is a lifestyle for thousands and thousands of people out there. I guess a lot of it has to do with how and where you were brought up and what was presented to you as "fun" from a young age, but I can't just write it all off to that. Maybe it's just the cynic in me, but I'm guessing a lot of hunters just love it because it's one of the only ways to get away from their wives for more than 20 minutes. OK, it's definitely the cynic in me. But I know you were nodding your head, don't deny it.

Analogy of the Week (Month?)

So I talked way too big a game before when I somewhat promised weekly installments of new analogies, but, in going with the old "Quality over Quantity" defense, I'm going to amend the series to "Analogy of the Month." Today we branch out into a topic rarely explored here to this point - pets. (Because you don't want to read yet ANOTHER baseball post by Lou before the season even starts, right? Don't worry, there's plenty of those in queue...)

To me, there is no debate when it comes to dogs vs. cats. There's only one ultimate pet, and that is Man's Best Friend. Of course I have my biases - I come from a family of bulldog lovers and in my lifetime have had 5 similar to that handsome gentleman you see up there. I also developed a cat allergy around age 6, so any affinity I had for the felines was thrown out the window back when I was playing with WWF action figures 6 hours a day.

But there's little dispute that a dog is a loyal companion who is happy to have you just as you are. Yes, it requires a good deal of time and effort in order to train and care for a dog, in most cases much less than would be necessary to have a cat. A dog, however, is appreciative of every nugget of food you give him, every scratch on the back and rub behind the ears. A dog's world is totally at peace once you walk through that door. Dogs take joy in the simplest of things - chewing a bone, being able to carry his leash on the final stretch of a walk, or having a nice snack of freshly fallen snow.

Cats, on the other hand? Well, I just don't buy the appeal. Most cats I've encountered are odd, aloof, unappreciative, and tough to win over. They creep around the house all day finding odd nooks and crannies to stow themselves into, and their idea of fun involves scratching posts and backyard birds. Affection toward their master is not their boat - cats have more of a "what have you done for me lately?" attitude than a New York Post sports writer.

Which brings me to the analogy - having a cat is like having a bad boss or a bad significant other. Think about it. A cat is never around when you actually want to find it or need it for something, but they're always up in your face when you just want to relax and mind your own business. And when a cat does happen to be in a jovial and giving mood, its idea of a "gift" is not exactly what you or I would have in mind. "Here, owner, you are such a good owner, I thought I'd reward you with this dead rodent I dragged in from the yard!" Doesn't the "thanks, but seriously, no thanks" nature of such a gift remind anyone of a Jelly-of-the-Month-Club Christmas bonus, even a little bit? And last but not least, just like a bad boss or bad significant other, cats leave a nice pile of shit for you to pick up on a regular basis.

I know this was a pretty big generalization, but it at least makes some sense. Obviously cats are great pets for people who have that certain taste in pets, otherwise there wouldn't be millions of them around. And cats are much more practical than dogs are for those who don't have the time or aren't home enough to properly care for a dog. But if all variables are equal, one would have a hard time convincing me that a cat would be a better pet than a dog. I'm sure there are plenty of awesome cats out there that I'd enjoy having around, but that's part of my point - the "good" cats are often the ones with more of a dog-like demeanor. The point of committing time, effort, and money into raising a pet is the enjoyment you ultimately get out of it, and call me closed minded, but I'm taking this over this 8 days a week.