I won't make any argument about the effect of environment and culture on a person.
Take me, for example. For years I joked about how I could never hunt. Not that I had any "sissy-man" objection to killing animals. Rather, it was me making fun of my inherited tremors which result in my hands shaking almost constantly. Made exponentially worse by my caffeine intake at any given time. Taking the humor to its logical conclusion I always would comment about my clumsy nature combined with being unable to hold anything steady meant I should never even get near a firearm.
But wait. Now I'm in northwest Kansas, noted for its abundance of pheasant.
And Geodad already has said I am welcome to have his shotgun.
Do I see myself decked out in camouflage this fall?
Most likely yes.
What's fueling this desire to aim birdshot in the direction of fowl is not only the effect of encountering numerous guys (and no doubt some women, too) who hunt the birds but also having no family life at present. This leaves me no real social options during the evenings, so I've been watching the idiot box. Although I cannot stand just about all of the major network programming I do have some cable channels from which to choose. The Outdoor Channel offers a huge selection of hunting programs.
Jeff Foxworthy has a routine about watching fishing shows. Hunting shows are almost as mesmerizing.
Of course, one thing I learn from these shows is that to be a hunter one must have a lot of patience. Given my restless and borderline-hyperactive nature I'll have a tough time waiting, but I think the outdoors experience might just make up for the lengthy inaction.
We'll see. Come fall I might just have a post about bagging a pheasant. I hear they are good eatin'.
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