Neanderpundit

Dad worked a lot. A LOT. What time we had to spend together was pretty scarce and mostly, it involved work. Those times we hunted, or fished, or vacationed together, were pretty awesome.

One thing I never had an opportunity to do, one thing he loved, was rabbit hunting out on Beaver Island Michigan. He went up a couple years in a row, for a week each time, and before I had an opportunity to join him he’d died.

I did get to be there in spirit, though. A couple years before he died, he mentioned he had always wanted a light double for rabbit hunting, and since I was never any good at figuring out what dad wanted or needed, I took the bait.

It took a while, but i found a clean, well kept LeFever Nitro Special, in 20 gauge.

I gave it to him for Christmas. Took it out to him wrapped in a blanket, and gave it to him in the garage. Away from the women, where the tools were. Smelling of wood chips and oil and old wood fires.

Dad unfolded the blanket and sat it on the bench. He picked it up and put it back down again. Then he picked it up, broke it open, looked down the barrel, and sat it down on the bench again.

Dad was never good about showing his emotions, but tears welled up in his eyes.

Sorry, I can’t talk about it any more. It was a good Christmas.

Will whomsoever is passed out nextest to the Vman please nudgeulate his ass and see as he moves about? I mean, I know the guy’s been busy and all what with entertaining half of north america, but oy, he couldn’t drop a line or nine? Post a picture of an abscess? bitch about readership? cut a brotha a break.