COLUMN: Grab your camouflage
The time of year has come when seemingly rational, thinking men leave their jobs, wives and their sanity behind in the name of the hunt. I am not one of these men myself, but I have seen them. Weary-eyed, bedecked in camouflage, warming their trucks and their hands at 4 in the morning.
There is something heartening about men like this who, in their single-minded search for a deer, elk or merely some male bonding, offer an anchor of sorts in today’s ever-changing world. Iraq may or may not fall into civil war and the future of North Korea’s missile program remains in question, but every fall, as sure as the sun’s rising, we find this brotherhood: the few, the proud, the deer hunters.
My soon-to-be brother in-law is one of them. He has postponed his own engagement pictures three times in the name of the deer hunt. And, while his efforts have not yet yielded a kill, they have kept him from putting on a sweater vest and smiling a goofy smile while some photographer says, “Just a few more. Tilt your head this way. There! Don’t Move!”
Another acquaintance of mine refuses to become a legal resident of the state – despite the fact he has lived here almost half a decade and would, were he a resident, enjoy an almost 50 percent cut in his tuition and fees – because his current legal status affords him more hunting opportunities.
I do not like guns or forests or dirt or trucks, but I can’t blame these men.
Zach Pendleton is a senior majoring in English. Comments and directions to the nearest taxidermist can be sent to zpendleton@cc.usu.edu.