Weekend at Dr. Bill's

I was lucky enough to spend the weekend with a group of buddies that included one from high school, two from college, and one former neighbor.  While where I met them is varied, the one thing we have in common is our enjoyment of a good hunt, and being in the company of dogs (mostly yellow ones, but there are exceptions).

Above is our esteemed host, Dr. Bill, with a brace of pheasants, and a new firearm.  Next to him is his trusty hound, Cooper.

Here are some additional photos:

Here are Fuzzy and Mr. Jude unloading at the car, and likely recapping who missed what.

Here's Miller-time wrestling with Cabo in trying to get a collar on the dog.  Cabo is winning...

The boys having a laugh, likely at somebody else's expense.

Dr. Bill proving that just because he was using a new gun doesn't mean that he needs any excuses.

We don't raise nearly the hell like we used to - a big night for us usually entails a big dinner, some cocktails, and a college basketball game.  Our conversations are more tame than they used to be as well, as we now talk about things like the health of our parents and ourselves.  But while things may have settled down a little bit, there's still enough smack talk, stories, and laughs to carry me for months. 

I started this column stating that I was lucky to spend the weekend like I did.  In the long drive home, thinking back on the entire time, it made me realize how lucky I am.

Born in 1964

I hit the sporting good store to see if I needed any provisions for an upcoming hunting trip, and found a couple of boxes of ammunition on clearance that were just too cheap to not purchase.  I brought them up to the counter where an older woman was running check out.

She needed to see my ID for the purchase, and remarked that I was born in 1964.  I remarked to the affirmative, to which she replied that it was notible to her as she was born in '63.

What?

My first impression of her as I entered the line was that this was an old woman.  Thinning hair, slunched stature, bags under the eyes, the whole Mary Ann.  And her smoker's voice didn't help the situation.  

But yet she was a just year older than I was. 

If the world sees me like I saw her, I'm in deep trouble.

Concert Review - Buddy Guy, Green Bay Oneida Casino

We took in Buddy Guy's show last night at the Oneida Casino in Green Bay, and to say I was impressed would be a gross understatement.  Fortunately, I was able to see it, as that was almost not the case. 

The evening started with a horrible queue situation in the casino, where liquor distribution, people just standing around drinking, and people wanting to get into the venue conjoined in a mass of humanity that was dozens deep and just not moving. 

After 20 minutes we finally were able to enter the venue, albeit with dour moods.  They were made worse by the configuration of the room, where our stage left, seventh row tickets were so far left that we needed to sit sideways to try and enjoy the show.  Likewise the seating configuration was cramped and tight, leaving my normally steadfast wife complaining about claustrophobia.  I actually floated the idea of leaving, and was mulling how we would extract ourselves when we were literally saved by a man with a golden axe. 

The band came out, got about a minute into the intro, and quickly brought out the legend.  Buddy immediately had the crowd eating out of his hand - he epitomizes stage presence and showmanship, and his guitar work and strong vocals belied his 75 years. 

I've seen lots of great guitar players live.  I would argue that Guy's performance last night was among the best.  Playing clean, then dirty.  Loud, then barely audible.  Playing with the guitar on his shoulder.  And always with a effervescent grin on his face; often calling "wait a minute," to the crowd as he shifted into something new.  He was brilliant. 

Highlights of the evening included a hilarious audience participation on Hoochie Coochie Man, a sweet and touching version of Skin Deep,  and leading vocals on Feels Like Rain while he turned over guitar work to his son Greg and to guitar prodigy Quinn Sullivan. 

Sullivan played three songs in the middle of the set, and was incredible to see.  While he's been working with Guy for a while, it is still amazing to see a 13 year old playing guitar like he did.  His interplay with Guy was spot on, and as he stood there, his body language looked scarily like Eric Clapton's.  It was weird to see. 

A nice highlight of Quinn's set was Guy quieting down the band as Quinn was coming out of a raging solo, and it appeared to be a change-up to see how the kid would handle it.  Sullivan appeared a bit confused for a second and looked back to the band, where Guy was grinning a nodding subtly as if to say, "Son, you don't always need to play loud to play well."  For a player like Guy, a genius of moving between loud and soft, it was a lesson in the middle of the concert from the master to the student.  That, in and of itself, made the whole night for me. 

Buddy Guy is a rare gem.  He started off backing for giants like Muddy Waters, Junior Wells, Howlin' Wolf, and Sonny Boy Williamson.  He directly influenced players like Jimi Hendrix, Clapton, Stevie Ray Vaughn, and Jimmy Page.  And now he's bringing along a player like Quinn Sullivan.  He's a bridge that links some of the blues finest days to today.  And the way he played last night, it was obvious that the bridge is made of solid stone, with foundations that run deep. 

What a fantastic night. 

Browning Maxus Review - Trigger Issue

As reported here earlier, I really like my new Maxus.  What I don't like is that it developed the trigger reset issue for which it is known.  My hunting trip to Louisiana last month was impacted by the lack of reliability with the gun.

I identified a Browning authorized repair company about 60 miles away from me, and dropped the $1,400 gun off there last weekend.  The good news is that it is already repaired.  The bad news is that I'm on the hook for a $75 repair.

What?

I'll be calling Browning today looking for an explanation.  Their failure to stand up for a known issue on a new gun is pretty concerning, and I'm hoping we just have a communication issue.  

Regardless of how it shakes out, I'll be posting it up.  Stay tuned.

Breaking Bad - Addictive, But Doesn't Match the Hype

I don't watch much TV at all, but with the Wild in freefall and the Twins not yet started, I decided to hop on Netflix and check out the much-hyped Breaking Bad.  I plowed through Season 1 this past weekend, and am already into the thrid episode of Season 2.

Thoughts thus far is that it is a very entertaining ride.  Given the way I'm attacking the episodes, it is obviously an addictive show.  However, I feel like it is just not living up to its billing.  That's not the fault of the show - given how much people have talked about it, I don't think any show could have lived up to a similar reputation.

Regardless, I'll be sitting downstairs tonight, cranking through another couple of episodes...

PETA and Animal "Slavery"

As long as we're on PETA's hypocricy, let's see what the folks over at the Daily Show had to say about the organization's latest publicity stunt:

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PETA Kills Animals at a Staggering Rate

Via some document digging with the Virginia Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services (VDACS), which requires all animal shelters to report the number of cats and dogs they take in each year, the website petakillsanimals.com reports staggering findings: 

• At its headquarters facility in Norfolk, VA PETA has killed 87% of the animals it has received since 1998. 
• In just the last five years, they've killed a staggering 95% of all animals they have received. 
• 84% of the animals received are killed within 24 hours of receipt. 

24 hours.

PETA cowardly hides behind claims that the animals they get are the worst of the worst - violent, or already on death's door. 

Hogwash.

It is simply more cost effective for PETA to put these pets down immediately and save their precious funds for their latest publicity stunt.

If you think PETA really cares about animals, you're mistaken.  And if you think that by dropping off Fluffy at their headquarters it will mean that Fluffy gets a second chance, you're wrong.

Or, in Fluffy's case, dead wrong. 

Justin Morneau Done - Just a Function of When

The StarTribune conducted an interview with the former AL MVP, and the tone of the discussion was shocking.  You can see the report here.  Morneau, talking about his concussion ramifications, sounded like a man resigned to the fact that it is just a matter a time before things turn on him.

There's an adage in sports that seem that is quite true - the minute you start to worry about getting hurt is the exact time when you get hurt.  It is self-fulfilling.

I truly feel sorry for Morneau.  His maladies have been many, and he obviously lives a pained, if not tortured life.  He needs to listen to himself and recognize, quite quickly, that by being out on the field, he's doing nothing to help himself.

Nor is he doing anything to help the Twins.

The sooner he and the team come to grips will all of it, the sooner everyone can move forward.