Deepthoughtsfuzzymemories

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

Selective helplessness

Anyone live with one of those guys that can fix stuff? Here's what I find amazing...A man like that can rewire an entire house, rebuild a carburetor and assemble a lawn mower in less than an hour! But, have you ever watched that same man wrap a gift? It's the most pathetic thing I've ever seen. It's as if they are missing a gene.

Running late last week for a birthday party I asked Steven to wrap a pair of earrings I'd bought for a friend. I came back five minutes later and he was nursing stab wounds from the scissors, had used an entire roll of scotch tape and an entire 30 foot roll of wrapping paper!! This is what I call "selective helplessness!"

For instance, some men can go into the woods, stand 20 yards from an innocent deer, kill it and justify the killing because, "it's for food!" BUT, you put that same man at home alone with no one to fix him breakfast, lunch or dinner...This same man could starve to death in his own house.

(Apparently it's "unsportsman-like" to go after meat trapped in a zip lock bag).

Fortunately, except for the gift wrapping problem, my husband rarely uses this "selective helplessness" tactic. He knows better. We've been married almost 7 years, on November 1st, and he's yet to ever look at me and ask "what's for dinner?" He's one very smart (or very scared) guy.

Off the coast of Ventura, California there are a small chain of islands called The Channel Islands. At certain times of the year, well, this time of year, hunters - after purchasing a $5,000.00 permit and waiting their turn on a 5 year waiting list - are allowed to fly out to the island and hunt. But, get this...It's an island. A VERY small island. There are few trees. The deer pretty much just stand around like cows in a corral. Here's how it works: The hunters are driven around on a jeep, the jeep stops, without leaving the jeep...they shoot their deer and that's it. That's "hunting" California style I guess. Personally, I just don't get it. I don't see where there's any "sport" to this activity unless you call "not falling out of the jeep," a sport.

I don't get this either...California is dry this time of year, right? REALLY dry. It's red flag fire season people. Everything is brown. We've had no rain for months and we won't see any until at least the end of October. Everything is BROWN. Crispy, dry and BROWN. But, these "hunters" (and I use the term 'hunter' loosely because I don't see any actual hunting going on) before boarding the airplane, start painting their faces and put on camouflage outfits.

GREEN CAMOUFLAGE OUTFITS! See? Everything is BROWN. The island is brown. The shurbs are brown. The beach is brown. Even the deer are brown. But, the hunters, are GREEN. Geez Louise.

So there they sit, in their GREEN camouflage costumes, with their painted faces, laughing like "good ole boys" straight out of Deliverance (but remember, these are pretend "good ole boys" - these are good ole boy wanna-be's. These guys have waited 5 years and paid $5,000 a piece to hunt down a deer that most likely doesn't know enough to run and even if it did, it would have no where to hide - (Remember? It's a BROWN, TREELESS, ISLAND). I wouldn't be surprised if one day the deer walked up and just took a seat in the jeep.

So, here they sit, attorneys and business owners. Just sitting there, waiting for the weather to clear just enough to land the airplane on a dirt strip out there so they can get on with the "hunt". If you ask me, they might as well go "hunting" in a zoo but, whatever. I guess the thinning of the herds is necessary - or the deer eat everything there - and the money is used for the park service to maintain the island - park rangers go there and live in shifts, a week at a time. But if those deer ever get a hold of some of those guns and decide to thin some herds...oh well, that's my fantasy of the day!

6 Comments:

  • Not being a hunter (except for humans), I can't comment on the Channel Islands thing. The selective fixit skill is something I can attest to, however. You want a lamp rewired? I can do that. Hang wallpaper? Call me. Set the clock on your VCR? Can do. Write a program in Java, C++ or Flash? I'm your man. Repair a carburetor? Uh... call Mr. Goodwrench. Engines and me don't mix.

    I met this beautiful woman once who lived in a gorgeous Hollywood home (across from Pam Dawber), and she flew commercial jets for a living. But she got lost driving to the airport. Different instruments, I guess.

    People are funny.

    (Except for Howard Stern. He's not funny.)

    By Blogger dkgoodman, At 11:53 PM  

  • Mustn't comment about the hunters... nothing nice will be written. (after she spent timewatching the bambies bounce in the green pasture last evening)....
    oh, I'll give you a piece of advice...really.... get rid of the wrapping paper... buy bags and tissue. That way there will be no more screw ups... you can continue to call on the husband for more tasks than he can bargain for... and no scissors involved... no blood involved either. THAT would be the reason that I call my husband "The KING". Yes, because the little bastard can do anything... anything... and there is a frustation level that goes to the moon and back.. so everything gets taken apart, put back together in running order.. and gets tidied up. He can even cook the whole turkey dinner, and then clean it up afterwards.... ewe.. I hate that part. hmm. The King is kinda creepy. he he he he

    By Blogger Deanna, At 10:03 AM  

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    By Blogger Terri, At 1:36 PM  

  • I don't "get" hunting or "hunters" either. I have a couple of friends who hunt, they live in Idaho, and while I don't understand it at all, and while I have no interest in doing it, and while I can't really understand what's fun or what feels good about doing it I do know that they seem to love it and at least there's a form of "sport" to it. This....this type of "hunting" - equal to hunting a cow standing in a pasture..this, I don't understand at all.

    But regardless, in this circumstance, the deer will have to die anyway. They will either starve to death - and before starving will eat every living thing available, which in turn will starve a bunch of other animals to death - including many endangered animals like the red fox...so I understand all that. So while I don't understand the motivation in hunting or the desire to hunt, I do at least understand the ecology behind it. Unfortunately there are wild pigs on the island too that are not native to the area - they were brought there by ships crews and left as a food source for starving men as they arrived supply-less after months at sea. I guess it was easier for these starving men to hunt for food on this tiny island (where the animals have no where to run and no where to hide) than to hit the mainland and have to hunt. The pigs I know are causing a lot of damage to the island and are now over populated. I guess the theory is that it's more humane to the animals to shoot them than it is to allow them to slowly starve to death. And of course causing other wildlife to starve to death too. I just don't understand - even with allowing the justification of WHY this needs to be this way - I just don't understand the FUN or excitement or challenge in shooting something that doesn't even know enough to run from you and it's standing 20 feet away!!! Go hunt in the woods from Pete's sake. Go hunt in - well, in wherever it is people hunt where the animal at least has a chance!

    By Blogger Terri, At 1:42 PM  

  • Oh and by saying up above, "The pigs I know...." what I meant to say is "The pigs, I know..." Sheesh.

    I don't know too many pigs although if I set my mind to it I'm sure I could..well, nevermind...

    By Blogger Terri, At 1:46 PM  

  • I don't hunt. But I eat. And sometimes... the grocery store is just flat beyond my budget. Hunting is NOT 'fun'.... and killing things (other then the occasional deserving politician) is a veryvery difficult thing to justify in yer own mind. I seem to be put on this earth to ocassionally be the euthanasia dispatcher when God's busy elsewhere. Most of my freezer fillet fillers have arrived in there by my stumbling over a mortally wounded animal some so-called 'hunter' was too lazy to find and finish, or the ones hit by careless, drunk, or lazy drivers on our backcountry roads. I believe in the old Indian philosophy of apologizing to the animal, thanking it for providing food, and granting it the swiftest and most merciful entry into the next world as in within my power to do so.
    that said.. i must admit i LOVE watching deerseason open around here, only for the fashion show that parades past my house for a few weekends a year. THESE guys are takin their fun real serious... driving camo-paint trucks, hauling camo-paint ATV's on camo trailers, wearing full camo, carrying camo-stocked guns, bows and arrows, hiding their beer cans in camo coozies, smoking camo cigarettes... and pouring deer pee all over everything for that irresistable effluvium of "c'mon and get me big boy... you smell GREAT!" Maybe... just maybe... I'll get some to pose for me this year, i'm out there so much there are several who consider it neccessary to buy their way into MY desert with cases of beer, thinking my private dirt roads are toll roads. I've had some good campfire parties with a few....

    By Blogger magz, At 9:22 AM  

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