The Unexpected Calling Card

I know that some individuals will think that the subject of this column will have some metaphorical implications, that is, it may reflect on the voracity of some of the things I have written about. I will admit that I have approached many diverse topics, some being out there a touch but this one, while having certain olfactory tones is for real and confirmable by close observation. Here is the truth. Just today my wife of almost fifty years stepped into our very small forest we have in the back of our garden. Her task was to water a May Apple that is growing there trying to be a spectacular spring ephemeral. In her struggle to find the plant known to be growing in the maple sapling-surrounded duff, she approached a huge White Pine. She came to an abrupt stop, looking down in disbelief, for there on the leaf-covered floor was a large deposit, shall we say calling card, of an animal of considerable size. 

“David”, she yells. “You won’t believe what I think I see. I don’t believe it. This is incredible”. Initially, I though she had found a huge nest of Deer Ticks because just the day before she had, indeed, found a Deer Tick and it was attached to a part of her anatomy that we cannot really discuss here. Embarrassingly (no pun), it was on her back side and had to be removed---by me. No, she did not find a tick nest. Not another Fox Snake because that would have elicited a bigger yell. Most interestingly, she stumbled upon a very large, very black, seed filled pile of she-she, better known in scientific terms as a turd (recall the opening statement). She was apprehensive, maybe repulsed, possibly racked with retro-fear, but noticeably amused. It was as if the not-to-old, but not steaming pile, might jump up and attach itself to her. We looked closely having seen numerous turds in our lives, both metaphorical and real, so that we might be able to determine the nature of the depositor. We looked at each other, remembering our years on the ranch, and both, with eyes wide, said Bear----and not a little one. While we did not run our fingers through it as if doing a forensic analysis, nor fondle it noting content and age, nor sniff it, there was little doubt. We had a Bear turd pile of some magnitude. We were both thinking we lived in very civil community with highly trained public servants managing the village greens and its wildlife---mostly squirrels and rabbits. It is cosmopolitan and almost like a city with a fire department, village trucks with logos on them. The citizens have things like TVs and cellular phones. So how can it be we have a Black Bear living among us? We were confused so it was off to Merlyn’s to see if her “talking” dog had had any unusual experiences in the last ten days (I had determined the calling card was at least a week old due to the dryness of the outer edges of the deposit---this close examination that did not involve smelling or tasting). Savanna, the semi-literate dog, is attentive and will on many occasions bark in the middle of the night when she thinks lurking criminals are about, or more commonly, if a mouse runs across the road. One would figure if the lousy dog was worth its salt, if a four hundred pound bear walked right by her house, there would have been a ruckus---the aforementioned spectacular turd was only twenty five feet from Merlyn’s house. In making my inquiry, I did not mention our suspicions wanting to test my theory. It turns out a few days earlier and in the appropriate time range, Savanna had an uncomfortable experience. In the middle of the night the protective mutt began to bark and bark. Low and behold, in the morning there on the floor of the house, was a fresh calling card left by the dog---an unwanted pile never left before. The dog had indeed detected the presence of the bruin, and probably thinking it was a Grizzly Bear, literally soiled herself. Merlyn seemed relieved, maybe even proud, for rather than the dog just becoming senile, it had simply been emotionally overwhelmed---and saved the day, chasing off the blood-thirsty bear. If the canine could really talk, I am sure she would have said, “I smelled this God-awful stench, looked out the window and there looking back at me, only inches away, was this grinning mouthful of teeth. Man, I lost control. Sorry about the little mess”. After thinking this all through, we had to come to the realization that even though we do live in this highly sophisticated community where we are all safe, surrounded by citizens well above average and mostly, like myself, very attractive, we are still not so citified, or gentrified that wild nature cannot just pass through town largely unnoticed. My only concern, and it has nothing to do with our highly skilled police force, (oh, we don’t have one) will not be able to protect us, but if some of the citizens should happen to see a Black Bear in the backyard, number one, they don’t shoot it, or probably more importantly, don’t follow Savanna’s example and leave a calling card on the floor or in one’s trousers. We closed the door more carefully, locked the garbage in the garage and removed the half-eaten burger from the car. Again I will say, although I have been know to enhance, I do hope this topic has no symbolic connotations as to my truthfulness-------nor any indication of what the Packers have to deal with this year.

Getting a New Peg Leg.

I had this knee that for one reason or another would lock up, a trick knee they said. Personally, there was nothing tricky about it other than when the meniscus, that would be a floating piece, got in the joint, it refused to straighten out and I was left to scream obscenities, profanities and absurdities. A good push with the other foot usually would do the trick but when it happened while duck hunting alone from a canoe, a family concern arose. They did not want to see a newspaper headline stating, “Older man found floating in pond.” Included would be a minor heading, “He was doing what he loved the most but it seems he fell from the boat while screaming at his knee and not calling ducks”.

This knee, the tricky one which also had no cartilage, was initiating a lifestyle change. For example, being able to bust a move on the dance floor was seriously hampered. Someone mentioned they thought I was dancing until Dennis was seen stepping on my hand. The idea that I could no longer muster a helicopter dunk on the basketball court was also disconcerting, particularly when it was a 7 foot basket. It was just not a cool look having my knee pitch inward. At the same time hurting like I was a civil war veteran. It was also becoming historically uncomfortable when I told a youngster my limp was due to having taken a ball at Gettysburg, he believed me---which may be more of an age thing.

Due to my fondness for Captain Ahab, my first thought was to buy a whalebone peg leg. The idea of pacing around the quarterdeck screaming out commands to my crew ( just my wife) had appeal. “Lay aloft you bilge sucking slackers!”  I could hear the clomp, clomp, clomp on the wooden deck and appreciate my heroic calls to bury the shaft deep while in pursuit of the great white whale. However, if recollection is of value, his whale-chomped stub was cut off by using a rusty knife after he had consumed a half quart of cheap whiskey. A dirty rag fresh from the scuppers was placed in his mouth as a way of relieving pain.

I opted for the shiny metal joint and requested a nice single malt scotch but by the time I muttered my request at the grinning anesthesiologist, it was night time. On wakening, I inquired of the possibility of putting a battery post, one on my knee and the other post on my metal hip joint to see if I could be used as a human battery. All l would have to do is drink an acid filled coke and then the juice would begin flowing, making me a sustainable source of electricity. For some reason I had no takers but the staff did say the drugs tended to make individuals delusional.  I still believe it to be a good idea. I, and the person I had become, was asked to leave in one day possibly because of my dramatic story how I had recently picked up typhoid while in the jungle, or was it delirium tremens.

After a couple of weeks stinging pain and weak-kneed responses, I had to turn to other tactics to get sympathy. In a semi-concerned tone, Rick asked how I was doing.  I said, hoping for a gentle confirming response, “Well, the knee hurts like no tomorrow, but the good side is my general demeanor and rugged good looks have really improved”. There was a pause, and then a slightly muted response, “If you think that is an improvement, you better get a new doctor----or sue him”.

Then the issue of the pain-relieving drugs came up and how they can cause various issues including but not limited to delusion---and most importantly constipation---and they might be related. There had been some loose talk about my bowel conflagerations, or whatever it is called. The word was on the street that many days had passed since I had had a meaningful relationship with the porcelain pony. From my point of view this was no joke because my eyes were starting to inappropriately bulge out and my lower GI was sounding like Mt. Vesuvius. I had been given every imaginable recommendation from EXlax, colon-blow, prune juice and Duramax which turned out to be diesel fuel and 2-4-D.

Eventually, life settled to sloth with a touch of truculence.  Ann nursed me well, even with my cantankerous behavior. At one time the word was put out that if the day came that I had to wear Depends , a man-diaper, and she had to deal with it, I would be picked up and trucked off to the “facility”. Someone mentioned they had a special caulk gun that could be used from the other end but about then fear took hold and I was blessed with a religiously induced water closet experience.

While I am on the road to recovery, apparently no better looking, still partially in the grip of some stomach alien, not chemically burdened with a monkey on my back, I am no longer considering getting a whale bone peg but a gallon of good whiskey has real appeal. Maybe I am a cry-baby but I want to go fishing and not hear how Jim thinks the weather in California is delightfully sunny and warm---and perfect for going on a pleasant walk.

Missionary's Position, Temporarily Crippled Person Makes Statement on State of the World

I have been idle, in part because of sloth and in part because I had to buy a new knee. Today in a fit, not one induced by the Vicodin I have been taking, I wrote this diatribe in response to an article sent to me. http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/world/us/11-chilling-predictions-for-what-the-world-will-look-like-in-10-years/articleshow/51284405.cms?intenttarget=no

 If so inclined, one could read it. I thought it good and more consistent with the truth than can be found n out MSM---even though I suspect an Amurikan wrote it. It is in the Times of India.

Here is my response.

Central to the writers point of view was that oil prices, and probably commodity prices, were going to stay low. This one issue seems to be a very destabilizing issue for the writer. While presently we are seeing this to be very true and very destabilizing, I don’t think the prices will remain low due to the fact that oil is a very finite resource. As this graph below shows conventional oil peaked 8 or so years ago and all of the new production has been US and Canadian unconventional “Oil” (much of it not really being oil at all but condensates, natural gas liquids, tar and ethanol)

At the present price, it has also peaked. As is well known, production in the US and Can. is falling off very rapidly right now, so it is just a matter of time before the price goes up. It is my thought, and others, the price will go back to where it is profitable again which probably just short of $100/br. This one thing will completely change the dynamic which is stated a number of times in the article. In other words, the suffering we are presently seeing in the oil states (Russia, KSA, Venez. Brazil, etc) will abate to some extent. Notably, in Russia, thus allowing them to maintain there vaulted position as they do have lots of oil---10 million barrels a day production and 7-8 million being exported.

Will they break up, or lose influence---not if the price goes up which it will as oil becomes scarce (next 2 years). 

EU will not stay in its present form---I agree. Stagnation is already there so that is a given. Many of the southern states will decline. Euroexceptionalism:  not sure what that is nor why it was said unless it was a hint at the mass migrations they will have to deal with and how corrosive that will become. The influx of migrants, which is just starting due to widespread overshoot in the area (Egypt is next---graph above ), will have catastrophic affects and be very disruptive. This process will have no solutions and may well take down much of the EU unity---already is.


Poland: That is a new one to me but might be some truth to it, but they lack  direct access to resources--like we have here. Everything has to be shipped in. This will be the plight of many countries, they simply do not have natural resources. Japan being the poster child of this situation.

Turkey: Many Arab states will free fall and that is a huge problem for Turkey because they are on the trail north, the one that will soon be blocked (already is). Increase oil prices could elevate some issues there.

China: now, there is a basket case. Being a totalitarian nation, they are capable of some very hasty changes and if it involves the death of a few million, they will not care one lick. Their growth is and will continue to slow down. They are so full of economic bubbles, corruptions, population anomalies, and resource issues that it is hard to know just were the hell that will end up but not well.

Japan build a navy? What! Where the hell will they get the money for that? The next statement in the piece says their production will move to other places. Most writers think Japan will actively consider going back to their past feudal state. They have nothing----but the USA.

The next part of the piece is the most confusing as it states that most of the new Growth” and “production” will move to a group of states, a group that looks more like a list of the world’s biggest losers. Many are close to being failed states, most are obscenely over-populated, have few, if any resources and governed by idiots. Wow, seem to be way off based on this one.



The USA: First off, we do not and I repeat do not, have a burgeoning energy supply. That is pure nonsense. What we have is also responsible for creating global climate change.  To top it off, our economy has not been growing since ‘08 and will not grow ever again because it simply can not---if it should, for some odd reason,  it simply means that much more of the natural world will be destroyed.

Will we (the USA) remain stable? Possibly but with a much lower standard of living due to resource depletion, world instabilities, global climate change, wealth inequities, but we do have our own resources, and we are not obscenely over populated---even though there will be increased pressure to absorb more migrants from the south---but, in case no one noticed, Obama has increased the security force down there, built a much bigger fence and not opened his arms ( a paltry 15K Syrians) 

  In the end, I believe they are leaving out too many issues to be very definitive in their opinions. There is no mention of global warming, which is become very much forefront. http://qz.com/605609/the-climate-change-refugee-crisis-is-only-just-beginning/ There is no mention of population dynamics which has been known for years. http://churchandstate.org.uk/2013/04/dennis-meadows-there-is-nothing-that-we-can-do/
Economics and the nature of capitalism is clearly a threat to our survival but only passing information based on the thought oil would stay low. There are a multitude of writers beginning to criticize capitalism. No mention of that here in this piece. http://www.nytimes.com/2014/11/09/books/review/naomi-klein-this-changes-everything-review.html?_r

While you have heard my rap before, here is a brief outline.

1. World economic growth will slow and eventually decline due to resource depletion, water, air, fuel and natural resources. Ultimately, these losses will lead to food scarcity and massive human migrations---and worse.

2. Species loss will become profound (already is).



3. Climate change will accentuate all of the above as will the 220,000 more people on the face of the earth each and every day.


4. Economic systems in place are all based on never-ending exponential growth which can not continue in a finite world. This alone may upset the entire globe before the other issues come to play. It is all based on debt at this point, debt that can not be paid back. At the moment we are seeing the affects of this with economic disruptions world-wide.

These events could drag out for years but even the piece you sent doesn’t paint much of a picture---really very consistent with my own.

There are some points of mitigation and adaptations for sure but we are not addressing them. Having energy prices stay low would be a very good thing because it will crash the world economies and that is what really needs to happen. Oddly enough, we would come out of that the best---because all we have to do is drop our standard of living to that of Europe---after going through a nasty depression.

Local Older Yahoo Makes Profound Proposal to Solve Election Dilemma

This election has turned into a dog and pony show of some magnitude, particularly on the Republican side with a display of one clown after another making statements so absurd one has to wonder if this is some backwoods high school junior class election where there is an out-and-out effort to elect the class buffoon. Sure Kasick could be a president and maybe Rubio or even Jeb Bush (who has no chance because he is a Bush with a brother who was one of he worst ever). They literally have nothing and those two with some potential are not getting much traction no matter how hard the mainstream media is pushing.

Among friends a question often surfaces as to why anyone would want to be president in this day and age due to all of the impending world altering issue seeming to be coalescing all at one time. Global climate change is for real as can easily be seen by the high tides coming up through the storm drains in Miami and flooding almost daily. There seems to be one storm of significance every week. (graph) Massive migration of people in areas of the world where populations have moved in to a situation of overshoot are frightenly visible. (graph) Numerous species are being depleted, including the fishes of the oceans that are commonly being used for protein supplies. Scientist are now speaking of the 6th great extinction event. (graph)

Then, it now appears that liquid fossil fuels are now REALLY peaking, particularly if the price stays below $40. This is a situation that is profoundly unsettling in view of the fact that none of the alternatives like solar and wind scale up and are by no means green. As fuels decline it will not be possible to maintain business as usual. Fuel and growth run in lock step---and uncomfortable situation.

In addition, our economic system is flopping on the grounded like a wounded animal in death throes. The debt level is so massive and the inequity in wealth so staggering the super rich are shivering in fear. This is not the end of it. There are 220,000 more people on the earth ever stinking lousy day and 2-3 million more Amurikans every year.(graph) Who the hell would want to be President.

So I am thinking about the Democrats and while I do believe that Clinton could be a president, just as Kasich or Rubio could be, but she is a Clinton just like Jeb is a Bush. She is locked at the hip with Wall Street and the big money gluttons of capitalism. Bill was no help with all his deregulation (banking)  and efforts at the globalism nonsense.

So I am left with Bernie. Sure, he is an idealist with a socialist bent but it is not like he is a communist.  Being a socialist is not like that portrayed by the right wing crypto-fascist. It simply means he wants the government to provide basic services at a reasonable cost for EVERYBODY. He has good ideas, maybe outside of the mainstream, but still reasonable in this wild-ass world with all it’s many pending problems. Even in my own 72 year old mind, I do worry about his age because 74 is a bit out there and most presidents serve eight years. 82? That is discomforting.

Here is the plan. Bernie Sanders should immediately announce, particularly if he runs well in the next two primaries,  that Elizabeth Warren is his running mate.  There is no question about her qualifications and her insight. She is a powerhouse, sorta young, brilliant and a wonderful speaker. With her waiting in the wings if something should befall Bernie, say what befell Reagan ( senility resulting in a shadow government), she could step right up and be a most wonderful president. If Bernie goes the distance of four years, great. At the end of that time he throws his support for her as President. I believe this is a beautiful thing.

As a result of this revelation (mine and I noticed a few others), I am suggesting that all of us step up and begin screaming loudly for Elizabeth Warren to enter into the fray as a vice president candidate. Send it out through social media. Let’s get her in the game now. The two of them are unbeatable and undeniable capable of dealing with today’s world.

    

Dealing with the bitter winter---The Polar Vortex

Getting Polar Vortexed

It is impossible to not notice Wisconsin is being polar vortexed once again. Today the high will not be going over zero and most reasonable people will be, in one way or another, gathered around some metaphorical stove grasping for radiant heat. This vortex affair also seems to bring with it a brisk whistling wind well capable of keeping the fishermen off ice, and winter travelers huddled  and hiding.

It blew in from the north, pushing aggressively south, leaving the local area smack in the middle of the most fierce force of nature. It is hard to know whose idea it was to do this but one would suppose it has something to do with Mother Nature----and her children. It is clear she, and I say she, not in a derogatory way nor with a sexist attitude, but in an affectionate tone not wanting her to target us again as if we were an unappreciative people. However, it seems this has been an interesting year in terms of El Nino and there may be some indication “The Boy Child”  has landed a right hook, maybe because he thinks we have been messing with the weather by using the atmosphere as a dumping ground for our garbage.

That would imply mother nature and her children, El Nino and La Nina, have the ability to think, that is react to a situation. The Mother of Nature gets honked off so she sends her ill-behaved children out to slap us around. Yes, this is nothing real new because this behavior has been going on for a long time even though she does seem to be having more disciplinary issues with the two snot-nosed brats.

It is also possible Mother Nature is also calling in a distant relative, El Vortexorino, who has for eons been hanging around up north just waiting to drift off to the south and dump on the same irresponsible people who are warming up the arctic with the same waste disposal issues. I can almost hear the banter, “You mess wit me and I’m gonna come down der and do some damage to youses pretty faces. You hear me.” While this is not the best scientific analysis, it would seem there may be some truth here.

For the moment, the Vortex has to be tolerated, maybe admired for it’s ferocity, and confronted with strict determination. We shall all walk into the wind, bundled, pockets aglow with heat packs, and limbs and bodies wrapped in down clothing, and constitutions committed to living in the this land of diminished light and intense cold. Each morning, the warm coffee and tea must be held tight in our holding hands knowing it will fuel us on our way into anything Mother Nature and her lousy, unkempt children and friends can offer. We are not about to be offended. We are strong.

There is little need here to be reminded of the saying from the 60’s, “I used to struggle to find out where it was at, then I realized the struggle IS where it is at”. Thus meaning, we all need to just step out there, embrace the cold, feel the sting of the winter wind, knowing it is the call of the wild, it is that which makes us strong, makes us know we are alive and if it does not kill us it will make us stronger humans.

This morning as we awoke here in Florida it was almost impossible not to notice the creeping chill that had filled the house. The central living space had dropped to sixty-eight and outside the thermometer said a bitter fifty-seven. To top that off, the news station out of Miami claimed it was only getting to the low seventies today. It has been so difficult reading about the cold knowing our fishing would require light jackets.

El Nino had brought this server weather to our party as we huddled around the breakfast table struggling to decide if we should initiate the fishing expedition under theses daunting conditions. We had to be strong and the thought of the winter wonders going on at home in central Wisconsin made it even more difficult. We so wanted to be back snowshoeing across the frozen tundra and fishing on hard water, bringing in the firewood, and scrounging for the last of the frozen turnips in the root cellar.

In a fit of desperation in the sixty-three degree temperature, we drifted out into the gulf in pursuit of Snappers, Sheephead, and Snook.  The taught lines of our flyrods almost appeared stiffened by the push of the breeze. The waves thumped against the side of the small dory boat adding to our struggle.  But in reality, all the years of character development in the north woods of Wisconsin prepared us for this outing, this fight against mother Nature and her children, this intense effort to catch fish under such conditions. More troublesome, however, was the idea that tomorrow we were headed back to Milwaukee, then to Amherst,  where we again would have to deal with another form of reality----the northern part of the polar vortex.

Hit and Miss Engine makes Electricity for Wisconsin Yahoo

While I'm fully aware that the average yahoo could care less about one hundred year old engines, I still am inclined to post some very dynamic videos of my engines actually doing a form of work. In the past they mostly just hung around running free and easy doing absolutely nothing other than sucking up gasoline and entertaining me and a small group of other motor heads like my wayward son. . Here and there individuals of no count would criticize me for seemingly squandering my time when I could be running for governor.

While I will admit I could do better than the most recent jackass embedded in our government, it would seem this activity of restoring cast-iron of the past is a more worthy enterprise. Pictured here is a portrait of my Associated Chore Boy model manufactured right around 1920. Clearly, it is a gorgeous piece of history and an artistic applications put into a functioning engine.

Most recently I attached this beauty to a alternator from a Chevy truck and with the combination generated electricity to charge my battery bank connected to my photo voltaic system. Here in Wisconsin there are long periods where the sun goes on holiday and refuses to shine no matter how profane I become. Just last 2 weeks it took off for the entire time and cast over us a pall of clouds fit  for only mushrooms.

So the Chore Boy came on line just in time to funnel juice to the 8 golf cart batteries who in there age are running low on a daily basis. This youtube video will probably go viral---but maybe not.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__mE7Z8J7-0

The Red Queen and the Feral Child Within.

The Book

I have in my quiet hours been attempting to write a book, a disoriented memoir if you will. I have a resolution, or is it a revolution, this year I will finish it. I thought I might offer up but one small section of the book that I hope to call, “The Red Queen and the Feral Child Within.”

 Starting at a young age, I have had times I thought I was feral, as did others including my Old Man. It is, I suppose, a stretch, but it represents a desire, maybe an effort,  to live apart from the normal everyday we all live. These experiences, while always simple in nature, have offered me jewels of memories, and appreciations of those things close to the land.

The Red Queen is from the Lewis Carroll’s The Looking Glass. In the book there was a problem for Alice and she said the following to the Royal Highness, the Red Queen, "Well, in our country," said Alice, still panting a little, "you'd generally get to somewhere else — if you run very fast for a long time, as we've been doing." "A slow sort of country!" said the Queen. "Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!"  I see this one statement as a metaphor for life in America---and a very brief explanation of the title.

 A canoeing episode down the Fox River and into to the Wisconsin River, age nineteen:

As we dropped into the Wisconsin River I remembered the smells changed. It was a big river odor, one that had memories in me. It was as if the Wisconsin River itself has a smell. It is not to say other bigger rivers aren’t similar, but to this day I think this river is unique. I suspected then, and  know now, this may well be true, for each river has its own fauna, its own chemistry, its own distant origins. The river has always been a good smell to me, maybe it is about those childhood things, those first memories there with the shiny SkipJacks, the Skipjacks that lived  in the river at Sauk City not that many years earlier.

Toward Sauk City we floated, stopping on sand bars, camping, fishing a little, but mostly just exploring and wondering about rivers. Just above my first home in Sauk, we approached the hydroelectric plant where we would have to portage the canoe full of gear over the east river bank. As we stood on the top of the dam’s berm, I saw a gentleman approach who clearly was a worker at the dam. A pleasant chap it would  seem, so in good Wisconsin form we chatted him up inquiring about the workings of the huge power plant. In time I told him that I had spent my first years right across the river, just up by the railroad tracks, a block or two off River Road.

With a little small talk I learned he had been here all his life. He asked my father’s name obviously thinking their trails may have crossed.  On telling him it was Bob Wright his eyes instantly lifted and a knowing, half smile slipped over his face. He slowly looked down while shaking his head, as if to say, “I  don’t believe this.” There was a brief pause as he gazed  around searching memories. “I know your old man. He’s a writer. Bought a newspaper up north. Ya, I remember. Been a few years but we had some good times together right here on the river and over in the Baraboo Hills.” Again there was a cautious pause after some exchange. “He ever tell you about the time he stuck an arrow in a farmer’s pig? “  He knew he had a revelation and his sly smile almost told more of the story.

I am sure my eyes opened wide, not in shock but with a hint of pure entertainment.  We were a family with a hunting tradition, so I knew the Old Man thoroughly enjoyed being in the woods stalking deer, but a pig, particularly a domestic pig! “Your not shitting me, are you?” I asked. “Oh no, He did it. I was with him. I don’t know what got into him but he did it. Musta been bored ‘cause there were not many deer in those days. You gotta ask him about that one.” After a few more reflections on other years and other people, we moved down the slow river.

All through the years I had heard the rants on ethics in the woods, and safety, and respect and here was this guy who had a few skeletons tucked away in the hills, not that it was all bad ,but still, there was a touch, of say, feralness to it all. He was a loose canon, a man not totally in control, maybe a hunter needing an experience of killing a food source. I remember as we continued the float, wanting so badly to tell him the story and literally relishing the moment because here was a situation, a little black mark that might generate a most colorful explanation of a dubious deed. My Father was full of humor and no doubt he would have to move in that direction to cover his ass.  The disclosure might also eliminate any comments he might ever have on my own misdeeds. I’m sure my companion, Ron my classmate, was even more confused, and suspicious about our family’s past than he was before.  Were these people moonshiners?

We were retrieved by a friend not too far from the Mississippi and taken back to my home in Marquette county, and to the old man who, I might add, was now in his mid-forties and a stalwart of the community. “Hey, how’d it go?” He immediately asked. “Great, man what  a trip”. We stopped at the power plant there at the dam and we met this guy Bill Nelson”.  In an instant my old man’s head dropped and he shook his head in a regretting way, mumbling some inaudible profanity. When he looked up the first question was, ”I supposed you heard about that damned pig? That was the dumbest thing I ever did and there isn’t another person who knows about it and you have to run into that son -of-a-bitch.  But I want you to know, I went to the farmer and told him I did it---and I had to pay for the damn thing. Keep in mind, it was out running around in the woods, not like a normal pig.”  The old man stood there, I’m sure half laughing but fighting it.

In looking back all those years, it seems obvious he had been feral for a least a brief moment---or should I say an outlaw. He had been outed as the wild man I had suspected. Not for a minute did I ever judge him badly for it---he was a human, a hunter (of sorts) and his genetics, his prehistoric man had just come shining through.  It was also a rare moment in my young life.