Keep up with all things "Big Billy Kinder Outdoors"
Her name is spelled Xayden. It's pronounced Zayden. Don’t ask me. All I know is that she’s 3, adorable, a pain in the butt at times, more fun than a pickup bed full of monkeys, and she’s my granddaughter. We find very little common ground inside the house. I have no interest in those two pups she’s glued to on TV, and I hear that dreaded Mickey Mouse song in my head at night. Let me be clear, I do not give a solitary hoot where "Toodles" is. Yes, I play along with the stuffed animal parade, the endless desire for me to put down the latest copy of Bassmaster magazine and pick up a story book...again. I’m kinda shocked that by now we haven’t erased the words from the pages with our eyeballs simply by reading and re-reading. There is constantly a miniscule bug on the floor, under her chest of drawers, in total darkness where Pappaw has to lay face down on the floor with a flashlight to see. It is uncanny how she spots these things, but none get past her! Walking through the pasture with enough visual happening around us to overwhelm and amaze, she spots a dung beetle in a dark shady spot. God given gift of insecta-vision!
And THERE is my common ground with my Xady lady. We are hunters! It is outdoors where we enjoy our best playtime together! My heart grows younger out there, and she grows up faster. We meet in the middle with a butterfly net, a five gallon bucket and a feverish hunt for bugs to drop in the bucket. Mayflies were her quarry of choice earlier this spring, and she was very good at catching all of them that were at about 32 inches or lower. The natural course of things has moved us from mayfly season to her favorite...The roly poly. It's part of her big 5. I assure you that you’ve never seen a grown man grinning with an 8 pound bass in his hand any happier or more excited than Xady with a poly. When the weather warmed a bit more and the poly parade started in the cool mornings, she was ready. Yes, sadly some polys made the ultimate sacrifice during their time in poly compound. Over-handling, I believe the cause. Even tho death came calling for some of the weaker little insect versions of the armadillo, they still counted towards her tally. Near 20 on that particular safari. It was a tremendously successful outing.
Trips to the ranch are a big deal. She knows that the first stop for supplies is Buccee’s. Corn for the deer, hogs, birds, coons and coconut fudge for us. Once we pass through the ranch gate, it’s out of the car seat and riding shotgun with her head hanging out the window like a fella’s favorite hound. While I hoist the corn for distribution, she hunts. Everything is a wonder! Like the rock that she picked up and asked me about. I explained that it was actually a world record cow patty...true Boone and Crockett material... a dandy. “Don’t eat it.” I teach her these important things, and without her even trying or knowing, she reminds me that the blessing of time in the field, the boat, a conservation area, BLM, National Park or old deer feeder is very very special.
How callused and spoiled am I? Would I be happy for a couple of hours in the floor of the boat with a box of night crawlers? No, but to see her pure joy in that reminds and refreshes my roots with critters and the places they wander. Poly safari in the front yard, poop safari in the pasture…a precious little one’s squeal of pure joy as a night crawler slithers thru her fingers. Safari is a journey, an expedition, a mindset that anticipates with great eagerness what lies ahead. It’s the stop for fudge along the way, the ride through the pasture, the moment when the turtle first lumbers into sight. It’s sunrise in Cordoba when more doves than you ever imagined start lifting from the roost, or sunset on top of Going to the Sun Road.
Pre-dawn when it’s just light enough to see that yes, that’s the big boy I’ve hunted for three years. In a wink he’s gone, but safari still has had its full effect on your heart. Thank you Lord! There is a 3 year old inside of you. Turn her loose, send her on safari near and far. And if you net a poly that’s 3/8ths inches or more, call ol' Roy at Truelife Taxidermy.
May 24, 2019
Contact: Billy Kinder
Kinder Productions, Inc.
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
MAY 2019-DALLAS, TX—On Saturday, June 1, 2019 at 4pm (ET) a small family business made in America will see its ten years of sweat and tears prove graduated as its product, outdoor talk radio show Big Billy Kinder Outdoors, joins the satellite signal of SiriusXM. From humble beginnings on one radio station in Dallas/Fort Worth, BBKO Radio will become a part of the Salem family of programming on Family Talk SiriusXM 131. Dallas Safari Club (DSC), with a mission to educate youth and the general public about conservation in the outdoors comes on as the Title Sponsor. “We are thrilled to be a part of Big Billy Kinder Outdoors expanding to SiriusXM. Billy has been a strong and leading voice for the outdoors for a decade, and DSC is proud to see that expanding to inform and engage new audiences.” Corey Mason, Executive Director-DSC. After thirty years of being a voice on the airwaves in DFW, Billy will now share his on air talent along with his life-long passion and experience in the great outdoors hunting and fishing with an ever-growing audience. Big Billy Kinder Outdoors currently airs on WBAP-820AM (Flagship), 14 other North Texas radio stations and over 116 radio stations in 28 states distributed by the Salem Radio Network. Our show pros include outdoor icons such as Larry Weishuhn, Gary Klein, Tom Dokken, Kelly Jordan, Wally Marshall-“Mr. Crappie” & MORE. Celebrity guests such as T. Boone Pickens, General Chuck Yeager, Nolan Ryan, Jim Shockey, Jason Robertson, Jim Zumbo and others frequent the camp-house to discuss, not their business, but their PASSION…the great outdoors. Listeners can tune in to any of the local radio stations, SiriusXM-Channel 131 OR 24/7 to enjoy the podcasts. Podcasts can be enjoyed from iTunes, the bbkoradio.com website or other podcast providers. SiriusXM’s recent acquisition of Pandora, created the world’s largest audio entertainment company and the potential for even more growth is in the future. This new partnership between DSC and Big Billy Kinder Outdoors will ensure that the important message of conserving wildlife and wild places, protecting rights to hunt and fish and educating our next generations in our outdoor heritage will reach even more ears and hearts. BBKO Radio is a great way to enjoy a long day in the blind (with earphones of course) or a long day on the water. “When we’re not in the great outdoors, we’re thinkin’ about it.”
More information is available regarding the show online, www.BBKOradio.com
If you have questions, or to schedule an interview, call Billy Kinder (817) 360-8090
Summer is beginning to wind down but of course that takes a while here in Texas. We’ll more than likely be sweating still as we sit in the Friday night lights of October. It was only 104 yesterday and 103 the day before which felt “fallish” in the early mornings compared with last week. We saw 110 every day last week with 111, 112 and 113 thrown in the mix during a broiler of a week long stretch. Morning lows were 87-89 and humid. I did take advantage of those frigid early morning hours to visit the local fishing hole. Sand bass for ceviche were my target, but I can’t resist sitting over a deep July brush pile and snatching a few crappie for supper. That’s what I was doing on July 5th when visitors dropped by.
It was a local fire and rescue boat. They saw the BBKO Radio logo on the boat and paused long enough to say hello, and one fireman told me that he enjoyed the show each week. It was a short visit, but hit me like a truck when I casually asked if everyone had made it off the water safely the day before, July 4th. They solemnly replied “no, that’s why we’re here now”. The reality of what lied beneath me, somewhere in this popular ski/fish/water toy lake was heavy. They were searching with sonar for a 19 year old man that had been tossed from a sailboat on the evening of July 3rd. There were others on the boat that was blown over when a sudden and harsh storm kicked up that evening. The others, thankfully, made it back to the boat that night, but not this young man. What a tremendous loss. WHAT A TREMENDOUS LOSS!!!!
I just googled it a few minutes ago and found coast guard approved life jackets at Wal-Mart for four bucks. I also found one of the new lightweight inflatable, automatic vests for $35. A four dollar life jacket could have made this an unfortunate boating accident that all would have survived. I don’t know the details behind this tragedy, but I do know that rescuers reported the teenager was not wearing a vest. He became the fourth, FOURTH, person to drown on this lake between Mother's Day and the 4th of July. That’s four deaths in fifty one days, and that’s just on this one lake.
My mind was controlled that day by the situation. I had a tremendous urge to help in some way, but knew that keeping my distance from Fire and Rescue, and the numerous Game Warden boats that I was now noticing was all I could do. It was mid-afternoon when I noticed the Warden boats making a secure circle around the Fire and Rescue boat. A huge buoy marker had been dispatched to mark the exact spot of this terrible job that had to be done. I saw divers go overboard in the deep water, and I prayed. I prayed for the rescuers that provide an incredible heart felt service to all of us every day. I prayed for heart broken parents and possible siblings that had, I’m sure been holding to a sliver of hope that he might be alive. I noticed as rescuers worked, that a seemingly unaware number of skiers, boaters and fishermen zoomed towards their pleasure without understanding the gravity of the situation. Only a few were protected from the depths with a life jacket.
I’m not preaching but I had to share the experience. God made YOU. He made you unique. He made you for a purpose. That’s big stuff. $4.00 is not. Summer is beginning to wind down but there’s still plenty of fishing, boating, sailing and skiing time. I hope this young man’s story weigh’s on you when you launch.
July 27, 2018
Outdoorsmen and women are in a holding pattern right now. It’s mid-February and one of those "tweener" periods for much of the country. The cold fronts that rotate with the South winds make the fishing very unpredictable. The weather is still harsh in a lot of areas; in others, it’s just not comfortable enough to sit in the boat fighting the wind and catching little. It’s a great time of year to check your gear and set-ups for the approaching Spring. When the calendar starts to round the curve from winter to spring, it’ll all ramp back up...and quickly. When it does, I like to BE ready, not GET ready.
I spend a lot of garage time on the chilly windy days re-spooling reels for various applications: fluorocarbon for drop-shotting, clear water, deep cranking and other low line visibility needs, braid for the flippin and pitchin gear, and mono for most murky southern waters that I spend a great deal of time on. It's also time to check the tackle bags and reload terminal tackle needs: various hooks, sinkers, beads, rattles, bobber or weight stops, swivels and snaps, split rings, weights etc.
Finally, it’s time to reload on the baits that worked so well last year in those spots that you’ll visit again this year. I always make sure that I have a variety of soft plastics in watermelon with red flake for the closest (making it the most fished) bass lake to my home, June bug soft plastics for Florida waters, and small bait fish themed swim baits for my smallmouth trips up north, hard baits that were lost to deep water structure, overhead obstructions and shallow areas that I couldn’t reach with the boat. Hard baits with multiple treble hooks are predestined for loss. Snagged and stuck in an area that leads to broken line and with today's prices, broken hearts and wallets. What extremes would you go to to retrieve that $20 Whopper Plopper? For me, crank baits and golf balls are the same...I’ve never retired one from old age.
Top-water baits, hard swim baits, spinning and chatter baits...the list of off-season chores is truly endless but all part of the excitement. The first steps to landing that giant starts in the "tweener" time out in the garage. So, pour another hot cup of coffee, start undoing that big pile of treble hooked baits that have worked themselves into one big deadly ball and practice your pitching technique in tight quarters 'til it’s finally time to hook up to the boat. The Lord tells us to “Be anxious for nothing…” but it sure is tough just weeks before the shallow water spawn and gobbling long-beards!
February 17, 2018
It's not a place that I’d ever been, nor would even consider. Heck, this place would not interest or occupy my mind at all if it weren’t for a beautiful blonde headed grand girl. Ever heard of American Girl? It’s Barbie on mega growth hormone. Barbie had a doll house and a convertible; American Girl has it's own free standing two story building outside the Dallas Galleria filled with every race, lifestyle and interest doll that you can think up. There’s camping girl, astronaut girl, singer girl, skateboard girl, beach girl...hey, they even had a banjo pickin girl. It’s an amazing place. All of these before mentioned girls, have an endless line of accessories too. All very life-like, all greatly overpriced. It’s a place I can’t afford to go, but I do...I’ve got a beautiful blonde headed grand girl. I’m sure that somewhere in this doll house is a whole troop of vacuum girls that go around sucking up the money from glazed over grandpas like me. I was pleased though, when blondie chose camping gear for her American Girl.
When I stepped in the front door, my view was overwhelming. No, not wall to wall dolls, but the strongest voice in 2nd Amendment support on planet earth. Turns out that Wayne LaPierre has a granddaughter too. There was Wayne in his sweats and tenny shoes. A ball cap and wallet rounded out his attire. This is all that he and I would need on this day. Armed with credit cards and dressed in stuff that would allow us to keep up with the little darlings. Here we were, a guy that loves and understands that without Amendment 2, I would not have American Girl freedom. My trusted 270 would by now be an Obama plow share with Hillary riding guard to make sure I didn’t have any others laying around. And there’s the other guy, Executive VP of the NRA and my voice many times in cocktail conversations that I’m not invited to. We could have shared like-minded conversation that covered the hours of doll frenzy, but we had smaller fish to fry. Young’uns that need our nurturing and support now, so they’ll know how to do it later.
So, Wayne and I ooo’ed and awe’d and kept our eye rolling to a minimum. We watched joyfully as we overpaid for mini hairdos for the dolls which we had overpaid. Heck, if Wayne and I had hair enough to work with, we’d have had ours done too. There were overpriced tea parties with the dolls, constant trips from 1st floor to 2nd and then back down. There was laughter, and wide eyes. There were thank yous and hugs...there were happy little girls and grown men with names like papaw, gramps, big daddy and pops. There was, right before our eyes, every reason that our 2nd Amendment exists, and every reason it must stay iron clad strong! Neither Wayne nor I had to say it; we were both living it. Our girls were having a great time, and American Girl at that moment was one of the safest places on earth. Nice seein ya Wayne!
Are you a member of the NRA? If not...why not? Oh, I get it if you're scared of guns to the point that you think no one should possess them. I understand that. You’ve just never been around them. Know what? Chances are very high that if we went to the range together, you would not only change your opinion but have the time of your life. That’s a safe bet for me because I’ve seen it too many times already. As part of the Dallas Safari Club and Outdoors Tomorrow Foundation, I’ve had the great pleasure to assist at the annual S.A.F.E.T.Y event.
At these events, kids and one of their parents learn to shoot bow, pistol, shotgun, rifle and muzzle loader. I teach shotgun. At EVERY annual event, even though the shooting and teaching is intended for the kids, mom and dad get involved. They want to try it, and when they do...a new shooter is born. I’ve seen it first hand and heard the stories time and again. Folks that were scared of guns beforehand, purchasing them and kicking off a life-time of target shooting and or hunting afterwards. There are folks full of hatred on the far left that dream of a Stalin society or something that will never be good for the U.S. They know that we must be disarmed for their dreams to come true. There are folks to the right and folks in the middle. I’m convinced though that our founders were God-inspired in their formation of government and that grandpas that respect both God and government have and will continue to protect those precious young’uns with that 2nd Amendment right. They protect your foul mouth too lefty.
January 26, 2018
There’s something peaceful about a cold day at the lake. Alone on the boat with God. The quiet still of winter on a calm cloudy day. This is the same spot that frustrated me so much last summer with ski boats and jet skis buzzing within casting distance of me. I fought constantly to keep my boat from wake washing right on top of my hole. A good drop off that moves abruptly from 14 foot water to 21. This ridge holds bass and crappie year round, but in the hot summer time it’s a slam dunk! Position the boat back a bit from the drop. Throw a six inch watermelon and chartreuse Zoom worm or a Strike King Rage Craw in the same colors up in the fourteen foot water. Slowly work it to the edge, and pay attention while it drops. It might be a light tap or maybe your line just starts swimming off to the side. It might even just stop dropping before it should. This is where the old adage “setting the hook is free” comes in handy. When in doubt, set the hook! This is a proven hang out and travel area for bass positioning themselves to ambush shad. The massive balls of shad seem to be here year round as well. Colder weather usually means working the baits slower or even dead sticking, meaning no movement at all. Cast, sink sit. Colder water means slower moving fish. Give them time and be patient. Its easier to be patient now, all of the lake rocking summer activity has stopped for a few months, heck, most of the fishermen stop coming after the temps drop below 60 or so. There might be a sail boat or two slipping along and kayakers taking advantage of calmer water, but for the most part it’s just you and God’s watchful eye.
There goes my worm! The line is swimming sideways! After a hook set that Jimmy Houston would be proud of, I bring in a nice sized crappie. Crappie are insecure little buggers. They can’t stand alone time. Even when tending a spring time nest of eggs, there will more than likely be another nest close by. They enjoy each other’s company and are most times in large groups. Time to slip the bass rod back into the box and pull out the crappie pole! Easing up on the drop off I keep a close eye on my graph. I’m looking for the change in depth, and a stack of fish. Crappie will look like a Christmas tree on your graph, or maybe a tall stack, like a tree stump. Bass will be singular many times. Once I locate the school, I’ll toss a buoy out about 10 or 15 feet on the downwind side. I’ve marked my spot, noted the depth of the fish, and now I’ll just feed 'em crappie jigs until I can’t take it anymore.
If your water doesn’t freeze up in winter, it’s still a great time to get out on the lake. Take plenty of hot coffee or cocoa, dress right and by all means stay out of the water this time of year. Your catch survives better in the live well. The traffic is gone and there’s no one sitting on the special spot that multiple boats race to in the summer.
December 7, 2017
I would really love to know how many miles I’ve traveled, walking behind my bird dogs over the years. These days you can do that. Garmin, and other companies, have products that count your steps, heartbeats, blood pressure and probably even the hairs on your head. Back when I started, beeper collars were the latest and greatest technology. You would charge it up, or in most cases, install fresh batteries, strap it around your pointing dog’s neck along with his training collar and off they would go. A shrill beeping sound would echo thru the West Texas mesquite flats and Montana coulees, giving you an approximate location of your hunting dog. It was pretty neat tech really. It would beep maybe every five seconds or so while the dog was running, and every one second when the dog stopped to point or pass along the leftovers from last night’s dinner. Someone got real tricky and designed a collar that would beep while the dog was running, and screech like a hawk when the dog was pointing. Game birds don’t like to get airborne when a predator with sharp claws and eyes, and Air Force jet speed is nearby. So, the hawk screech was meant to fool the birds into holding tight on the ground until you could catch up with your pointing dog to make the flush.
The desire of a bird dog to hunt and point upland birds is so strong, that after a few short minutes of obtrusive noise, just inches behind their ears, they seemed to totally ignore it all together. After the first beeper collar hunt, it was always welcomed by the dogs. The collar was a sign to them that once they were fitted with their jewelry, it was time to hunt. My friend, Ted Gartner with the Garmin company is an avid bird dog man. He and a few techie types made the old beeper obsolete. Once on a hunt, Ted wondered around the camp-fire one night if he could duct take a GPS unit to one of his dog's training collars and take the first step towards a quiet dog locating collar. The Astro was born from that evening of pondering and red-necking around with GPS technology and duct tape. Astro, now several generations older, shows you where your dog is and what he is doing at all times.
Waaaay back...before the battery powered beeper collar was the simple little brass bell. Obviously making noise while the dog runs, and falling silent when the dog locates birds and points. Purely from nostalgia, I held on to that old bell method. Yes, I always had and primarily used the latest and greatest technology, but could easily step back in time by removing the tech collar and replacing it with a simple bell. I especially enjoyed this practice when hunting alone, working a smaller patch, and partnering with only one dog on the ground as opposed to two, three or even four. If I saw little Button, or ol’ Jill disappear into a plum thicket and the bell jingled no more, it brought an instant smile. Birds!
I still have those old bells that carried the jingle of fall, and the collars from many of my dogs. I can look at a particular collar and tell you about the dog that wore it. I can tell you in detail about how they liked to hunt, how hard they ran, how far or close they felt necessary to hold birds, and how I loved each one. When you step into the fields of fall, behind a well trained bird dog, it's magical. Matters not the technology or lack of. Enjoy your bird season and throw ol' Nose an extra treat tonight. They will give you every ounce of heart that they can muster tomorrow as they jingle off into the plum thicket.
October 12, 2017
It still overwhelms me when I hear the numbers. 59 dead, more than five hundred wounded and injured. Sitting like sheep at the slaughter while pure evil lurked above them. Watching, waiting for the crowd to grow to its maximum, after months of plotting and planning Satan's work.
Please don’t underestimate prayer. It's never made sense to me to tell someone that my thoughts are with them. It’s a nice gesture I guess, but it really doesn’t do anyone any good. If you say that you're praying for someone in times like this, well that means something. Prayer is an action bowed down before Holy God; asking relief and healing for someone is strong medicine.
A lot of people that were in Las Vegas on that concert lawn need our prayers, so do family members that stretch around the globe. They will need them for a long time. Many times we say, “we will not forget”, but then we do. I believe that the strongest way to remember is through prayer. For God to actually hear our prayer, we must know the intercessor, Jesus Christ. The bible says that if we profess that Jesus is Lord with our mouths and believe in our hearts that God raised Him from the dead, we will be saved. We will then know the Intercessor, and our pleas will reach the Father. We have all sinned, God can’t co-mingle with sin, but if we truly ask forgiveness and ask Jesus for salvation, He is faithful to do so. He will forgive us our sin and make us fit to plea to the Father and spend eternity with Him in His glorious Heaven.
A lot of people shamelessly feed on these tragedies. Hillary Clinton was the first one that I heard screaming gun control. A bunch of other folks disguised as the Democratic party then jumped on board. This happened while emergency surgeries were still in progress. These people claim to want my guns, to protect me. In reality, they want a dis-armed America. These anti-gunners don’t give a hoot about you or me. In fact, if you love our country, respect its great past and live within the law while exercising your 2nd Amendment, you are the enemy to many. Satan works tirelessly.
The evil coward that followed Satan's leadership has a brother that has spoken up. He didn’t say much, but his few words told the entire story. He said that his brother had no affiliations with religion, politics etc. He didn’t fool with any of that stuff. Can't blame him for running from the politics, but when you run from God, there's only one other direction. The dead coward made a very bad, and eternal choice. There are a few things that we can do to heal.
October 5, 2017
The fourth Saturday in September each year is, as proclaimed by our esteemed leadership in Washington, D.C. back in 1972, National Hunting and Fishing Day. A day that celebrates several things. Not the least of which is...
NHF Day also celebrates...
We can blame a lot of things, not the least of which is technology advancement in the past 20 years...Instant entertainment right at our fingertips that has stolen a whole generation’s attention. Virtual whatever, replacing actual hands on skills from field to table. We can blame the usual suspects like lack of public hunting property, high cost of carrying out our hunting traditions (hunting trip related expenses rose 15% 2011-2016) and a shamefully high divorce rate. Yes all of these factors contribute to the decline and decay of wonderful heritage and tradition, but ultimately, we must horseshoe the pointing finger back around to ourselves. No matter how many dollars we spent at the DU banquet, or how many bass baits we bought last year, or contributions to great conservation efforts, if we didn’t spend at least one day taking and teaching someone new, we failed ourselves and drove a nail in the American hunters coffin.
I like the leadership that we now see from U.S. Secretary of the Interior, Ryan Zinke. He is part of our heritage; he gets it and he’s working to make things easier for the next bunch coming along. He's attacking the Obama administration’s senseless, science-less attack on lead ammunition by punching holes thru the regulations that prevent us all from accessing many of OUR public lands. OURS! We can sit comfortably in our warm deer camps, enjoying God's blessings, creation and protein (keeping it to ourselves and grinning in our self satisfying little bubble), or we can actually do something to impact our grandkid's hunting and fishing opportunities.
Spend the money! Guided trips, product, essentials to hunting and fishing. It keeps the wild places wild when you do. Teach someone! It won’t take long. They will love it. You will too, and hopefully you will instill in them the desire to teach others as they move down life’s road. Vote! Educate yourself responsibly, and let's “drain the swamp”, as a famous billionaire has said, of those that hate the fact that you and I follow God's plan to be the head of the animal kingdom.
Enjoy YOUR National Hunting and Fishing Day! We are still the strongest voice and best friend that the wild things and places in America will ever know.
*U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service Survey Preliminary Findings
Se[tember 21, 2017
Work is a four letter word. It would be real easy to place the word work in the same category as other four letter words not fit to be uttered before decent folk. Work gets in the way of important stuff. Work forces us to think of pushing the lawn mower instead of pulling crappie from late summer brush piles. Work brings forth reluctant hours of computer screens instead of a view from a pop up blind, bow in hand. Work is something Tom Sawyer thought his way out of when it was time to paint the fence. Tom had the mighty Mississippi river in mind, thoughts of adventure and big catfish securely hooked on the business end of a stiff cane fishing pole. He, while working on the fence schemed up a plan, and his friends, none of which made a run at valedictorian I believe, did the white washing of the fence for him while he was off tending to rabbits and crappie and other important matters. Tom had convinced his friends that they would find no greater pleasure on that beautiful Saturday than he would have slapping a new coat of paint on the old fence. They believed him and asked if they could have some of that fun. You bet!
I think someone pulled this same stunt on my friend, Jim Zumbo, the famed outdoorsman many years ago. Jim is obsessed with cutting and stacking firewood. Listen to him talk about this out of control addiction, and you’ll see him beam like a kid holding a paper with a passing grade. Do they still use paper in school? He can tell you to the rick/cord/square footage or log exactly what he has stored up. You know that bar-b-que place that you pass all the time...the one with a small forest of cut wood stacked on the 3 acres in back...Jim's backyard right there.
Work many times involves long slow commutes through dense traffic and demented drivers that are real eager to display a one count with the free hand, instead of long slow drives down a two track road and rolling the combination lock in the headlights. Hondo Crouch is famous because he bought a little Texas hill country town and invited musician Jerry Jeff Walker and friends to come visit. Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings sang about Hondo’s little Luckenbach, and the rest is history. Hondo talked those guitar pickers into white washing his fence. It was Hondo that coined the phrase, amongst many others, that “havin fun is hard work sometimes.” I think of that phrase often while filling and maintaining feeders, yoyo’ing the weeds to cut down the wind pics on the trail cameras, setting and anchoring blinds, cutting pickup sized drive thrus in the harsh vines that block all of humanity from that special spot back yonder, etc etc.
I guess most of us would make an even swap of work for a smooth rocker in a brushed up and shaded boathouse, dipping jigs for delicious fillets, but it just wouldn’t work. First reason is: The Good Lord is a big fan of work. He, Himself, created work, and then after Adam and Eve ate the bad apple that day at the farmer's market of all farmer's markets, God told us to get to work. It’s part of His plan, therefore no other plan will work, just won’t. Second reason is: We couldn’t afford the rocking chair, much less that nice boat house. So with that thought, I’ll shut down this laptop now at five am, fill the truck with tools and diesel and head for the pasture. I’ve got two full days of work ahead in prep for opening day. But, YOU will find no more pleasure on this beautiful day than I will! Join me?
September 15, 2017