I May Be A Hunter

This past summer I went on a buffalo hunt on the Oglala Reservation in South Dakota. I've never been on a hunt before, though I did learn how to hunt humans in the USMC. A lot of the same rules apply. Stealth. Target Identification. One Shot, One Kill principle.

While I didn't do the shooting, My son and I did assist a little with the post kill activities... skinning, quartering, butchering... and it sparked something in me.

Now, to be honest, I've never been drawn to hunting because most of my role models for this have been people that hang heads on their walls or take pictures of themselves with dead giraffes, lions, wild hogs, even buffalo. 

What bothers me are the trophy hunters. I have never felt that the act of killing should be celebrated or enshrined with pictures of people smiling happily with their kill. Posing in front of the rows of ducks they shot, or holding the head of some dead animal up while they grin for the camera. I get that they are proud of their "accomplishment", but most trophy hunters I've spoken with have zero respect for the animal they have killed. It's a sport for them. A chance to prove whatever they need to prove to whomever they think they need to impress. It doesn't impress me. Hunting something that can shoot back at you takes far more skill, nerve, and dedication than shooting an unaware animal that is having lunch and just trying to go about their day.

I understand that people hunt to eat, and that never bothered me much. One of my earliest babysitters was a family that ate all manner of wild game, and though I can't remember the taste of the various things we tried, I do remember the basement with skins and processing equipment and such. I understand that hunting certain species is important in keeping their numbers in check. We are a part of  the food web, after all. The whole Circle of Life. I get all of that. But I've never felt the need to hunt for food outside of my local grocery store.

Then I went on the Buffalo Hunt. 

Now. It wasn't particularly difficult. We drove around until we found the herd, adjusted position (in vehicles) a few times to get a close, clear, clean shot. The guy who took the shot did so wearing flip flops. The herd didn't even react to the shot. Just kinda looked at us and went back to their grazing. A few of them gathered around their fallen brother to check him out. My Lakota Ciye (older brother) Will said that after the animal dies his family will gather around and bw their heads as if in prayer and saying goodbye. Unfortunately our non-traditional guides raced in with their vehicles to move the living buffalo off, an act that bugged both Will, me and my son. The anti-trophy hunter in me would have been disgusted if that had been what we were there for. 

But it wasn't.

This hunt was to use the buffalo as food. The traditional hunters prayed to Tunkasila - Grandfather - before the hunt that one of their brother buffalo's would give himself as a sacrifice so that the people could eat. After the shot, we gathered around the fallen buffalo and prayers were said and sung, and offerings made to the spirit of the animal and to Tunkasila. Prayers of thanksgiving for the sacrifice of this bull. We thanked the animal personally. 

I placed my hand on his massive forehead and said my own words of thanks. As did my son. And the lesson he learned that day was vitally important. I was with people who truly respected the animal, and more importantly respected the gravity of killing. There were no smiles or laughter from the traditional Lakotas there. Or from their two white visitors. Just respect.

In accordance with Lakota tradition, we all ate a piece of the liver to honor the spirit of the buffalo, make him a part of us. We were told that by taking part in ceremony, that we were also brothers of the buffalo. That the spirit of this individual buffalo would be with us for all of our lives. It was a powerful morning that will stay with me for life.

As I reflected on my experience in the weeks that followed, I gave thought to what should be in the hearts of all hunters.

The act of taking a life should never be internally easy, or done with pleasure. It should be done with as much skill as possible so the animal suffers as little as possible. It should not be celebrated with pictures of the dead or trophy heads to hang on a wall. The first thing a hunter should do after a kill is show some respect for the animal that they killed. The animal should be humbly thanked for their sacrifice so that the hunter and his family can live. If you're not going to eat it, you shouldn't be killing it. Maybe most importantly, if you hunt for an animal, you should also take care of its relatives as you would your own as a thank you for their sacrifice as well.

Set out some food for them during winters and hard times. Not as bait. As a thank you. Take care of their living space as if it were your own. If they don't have a good place to live, you won't have a place to hunt. That means standing up to those that would spoil those living spaces. Companies that dump toxins into the ground, water, and/or air. Governments that won't protect these Natural Resources. Individuals that hunt for the sole purpose of taking home a trophy or a picture to show off to their friends. These must be stopped.

I may become a hunter in the future. Probably not regularly, but to expand my knowledge and to provide food for my family. Certainly not for any picture or trophy for my wall. Because even this far along in my life, I was able to learn what it means to be a true hunter.

Respect. Honor. Humility. Purpose. These make the difference between a hunter and a killer.

Trump Rally

     Tonight I had the opportunity to go see a Trump rally in person. I wasn't excited to go, and certainly had my preconceived notions of what it would be like. I'm no fan of 45 or his more ardent supporters. But my friend Shelly, who had the tickets had said a few things that made me genuinely curious. Also, I wanted to see with my own eyes what it was like. After all, what we see on the news are sound bites of him saying something stupid. And what we see on the comedy shows are the people too simple minded to know they are falling into the interviewers traps.

     So I went, not intending to protest, not intending to support, but to simply bear witness to it and try to keep an open mind.

As we drove the route 45 would be taking to the Civic Center, there were rows and rows of protesters lining the streets. We found pretty decent parking a couple blocks away, and after making our way through the protesters on the corners, we found the line to go into the venue. It snaked its way from the venue about a block away then went down an ally and around a bend. Probably a few thousand people in all. We made the decision to not wait in line and instead walked up to the giant tv screen near the venue that people outside could watch on. There were protesters there, too, and as the line filed by, the protesters were jeered and mocked. Chants of "USA. USA" kept rising up. The Protesters had their chants, too. But none jeered or mocked the MAGA hats heading in. We were standing by the police tape that separated the crowd from the line, next to a couple police officers and a Secret Service agent. We soon noticed that people were just walking under the police tape and joining the line, so we thought, well, why not give that a try? So I held up the tape to let my friend in, said hi to the nice security people, and we literally walked right into line.

We spoke quietly to ourselves about feeling a little guilty for just cutting in front of hundreds of others, but that feeling quickly dissipated as people around us talked about how they didn't even have tickets, but were just going to try to get in anyway. Of the section of people I was in, very few had tickets, and they all got a good laugh out of that. As we rambled along, we noticed quite a few people just shoving their way in front of others. There was no security along the line, so people could - and did - easily step out of line, move up a bit, and rejoin the line. So much for Minnesota Nice. The lack of humanity continued further as chants of "Build That Wall" and "Lock Her Up" moved up and down the line. All greeted with laughter and cheering. A group of young people were mocked and harassed until driven from the line by the crowd after they were outed as liberals. Shelly turned to me and quietly whispered "That could have been us."

We reached the doors to the inside and filed through, only to be in a larger hall that led to the "Exhibition Center" where the overflow crowd was being directed. This was several times wider than the outside line, and people packed in - again pushing and shoving - to get to the single open door into the EC. There was plenty of grousing and complaining about the "line cutters" by people that had themselves walked ahead of others as far as they could before joining the mass.

As we approached the security checkpoint, Shelly and I got separated by budging MAGAers, and decided to just meet once inside. She went to the outside of the line, and unbeknownst to me was shuffled right in thanks in part to her need for crutches.

I, meanwhile, found myself in a group of men, women and children in various states of MAGA hats and shirts. One woman just behind me to the right was trying to get people to let her husband through, since they had been separated and he was now fifteen feet back through the crowd. She was wearing a Mayo jacket, and feeling some loyalty to Mayo employees, I helped her make a hole for her hubby to join her. After he had joined our little section, someone further back yelled "A thank you would have been nice". To which she flipped the bird without looking back.

"So much for Minnesota Nice" said someone else from the back. She turned to me and said "I'm from Michigan. Besides, 'Minnesota Nice' is just another way of saying 'Fuck You', isn't it?"

"Ahh... No." I replied. "We actually do try to be nice. Polite, respectful. That sort of thing. I guess that sort of goes out the window at things like this, huh?" I quipped.

"Sure does." She said. "I always thought it was like Southerners saying 'Bless Your Heart'."

"Nah." I said. "People here are generally pretty nice."

At this point we were around 30 feet from the entrance, and people were cramming into the funnel from both sides. Someone with a backpack was sent away, as no backpacks were allowed. A woman in front of me that had previously pushed her way past Shelly along with her family scoffed and started pointing at women and asking them kind of harshly if they brought purses. I thought she was just kidding around at first, until one woman said yes, and she said "Well get behind me then! I don't want your dumb ass holding me up!"

Now, if you know me, you know I don't tolerate rudeness very well. So I said "Chill out lady. We're all in the same boat here." Which got me a withering stare. It was then that a gentleman to my left squeezed past me and shouldered his way in. I said "Really?" and shouldered my way in front of him. Words were about to be exchanged when my phone rang. It was Shelly, so I held my index finger up to him in the well known 'just a moment' gesture and talked to Shel. She was inside, she said, and would wait for me by the door. Was I close?

"Yeah. Making progress. Except for the people still trying to budge their way in front of me. But I'll keep moving forward." I said this looking at the pushy guy, and he backed down. He worked his way to the left and last I saw him he was pushing in front of other people.

I was about twenty feet from the door when the woman in the Mayo coat went off.

"Those fucking chinks cut ahead of us! They shouldn't be allowed to go in!"

Ahead of us by three or four people was an Asian looking couple. I could not believe what my ears had just heard. I became... agitated.

"Hey. That sort of language isn't necessary." I said.

"But they cut! And HE has a backpack, so they shouldn't be going in anyway!"

I was seething, but realized that I was in the midst of a crowd of MAGA hats, twenty feet of packed crowd between me and authorities, and if I started telling her and those around her that were agreeing with her how I really felt, I'm quite certain things would turn ugly rather quickly. She had the support of the mob, and I understood that I was surrounded by truly deplorable people. It was so hard to bite my tongue further.

But here's where it got even more surreal. She went on to say that they were probably Democrats just here to make a scene. How would you tell if they were Democrats? I asked.

"I can always tell." She said proudly. "They all have a look about them. Like they've been unemployed for years and living in their parents basement."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah" her husband joined in. "They all have hate in their eyes, or are too drugged out to see straight. Fucking losers that you can pick out of a crowd."

Then their adultish son joined in. Let me describe him first. It makes his comment that much more ridiculous. He had on a brand new MAGA hat (Just bought it outside!) a tattered camo jacket and ratty jeans. His smile revealed orange, unbrushed teeth. His hair flowing out from underneath the hat was unwashed. His comment? "They all look like homeless people. Probably because they are!"

Mom chimed back in, "I can always tell. They all hate America, and us, and Trump. They should all just get the hell out of the country if they hate it so much."

I smiled at her. "You can ALWAYS tell? For real? Or like, these are just Democrats in general?"

"Nope. I can ALWAYS tell."

So I asked her in a conspiratorial tone if she saw any in the surrounding crowd. She pointed out a large black guy, but wasn't entirely sure of her pick after I pointed out that he was Secret Service. But she was certain that the brown skinned women wearing hijabs were Dems. "Fucking towelhead Dems, right there." were her words. And MAD PROPS to that small group of women that looked cool as cucumbers as they filed in with so many people scowling at them. I at least had the camouflage of my USMC hat and white skin to disguise myself for safety. Those gals were exactly the enemy most of that crowd was looking for, and they held their heads high. THAT is true bravery!

Two college looking kids in sweatshirts were Democrats too. I looked at the others listening in on this conversation to see if anyone else was as disgusted as I was by what she was saying, but there were only smiles and nodding heads agreeing with her. I really felt like I was in the presence of evil.

At this point the Asian couple had reached security and were given the option of tossing the backpack into the trash or leaving. They left, to a smattering of cheers and a "Good Riddance" from the lady who always knew a Democrat when she saw one, even though she was standing right next to one. I was sweating from trying to keep my cool. I felt... well... dirty. Like their vitriol was rubbing off on my soul. I can't remember being in such a disgusting group of people.

Finally, mercifully, I made it to the security table, where I was separated from the proud deplorables. I thought to myself "This whole building is going to need a good scrub down and a lot of smudging or something." It was very bad energy in the crowd.

I was pushed toward a Secret Service screener by another Secret Service agent. He looked at me, patted the tops of my front pockets half heartedly, then touched the hem of my shorts on my left leg with one hand, then waved me through. Three touches in total.

"Is that it?" I asked.

"Yeah. Go."

"Really?" I asked again, kinda slow walking past him. He just moved on the the next person, and in I walked.

Now. Shelly had the tickets, and she was already inside. I wasn't asked if I had a ticket. I wasn't checked with a wand, or asked to empty my pockets, or my cargo pockets (because I'm a Dad, and we ALL wear cargo shorts). My waistband wasn't checked, and it would have been very easy to have a concealed handgun tucked in the small of my back, or my pocket, or my cargo pocket. As shocking as the conversations that had surrounded me on the way in had been, I was extremely shocked by the lax security to get in to see a US President.

Now, maybe they figured that they didn't really need security checks for the overflow area, although it connected directly to the main stage and the rear areas where 45 would be. But considering what happened next, perhaps they should have thought things through.

Because not five minutes later, 45 himself came out and onto a raised stage area not twenty or thirty feet from where I stood. Shelly had asked a tall guy in front of her to move a little for some room for her to film, leaving a nice gap and line of site to the stage and there was nobody behind me. To my right was a wall, and to my left was Shelly. It was an ideal spot to shoot from - as my cell phone camera shows, and literally ANYONE could have brought a weapon in and taken shots at him.

I don't know if he saw my one fingered salute or not...

All of my disgust for this administration faded away for a bit as I stood in wonder at how easy it had been to jump the line, enter the venue, and get this close to the sitting president of the United States. I filmed his mini speech to the overflow crowd and took some pictures without really hearing any of it.

Seriously. Complete disbelief.

After he left, we took a spot along the back wall where we could sit and listen to the "Greatest Speech" that he had promised the overflow room when he appeared. Apparently many of his loyalists weren't terribly interested in the speech part, as the outflow of people easily matched the influx. Shelly was very hopeful that his actual presentation would have substance and not just be a collection of nonsense. I was less hopeful, but in all honesty had never been able to sit through an entire speech of his. And his highlight reels were really nothing to brag about. Besides, many people have asked me if I'd ever been to a rally as anything other than a protester. So I wanted to keep an open mind. I decided to give him a clean slate for the evening, even after the deplorable beginning.

He didn't start well.

He opened with "They say that this is a Democrat state" which was greeted by the loudest booing of the evening. He went on to vilify Democrats throughout the speech as "for crime" and "for raising taxes" and "for open borders", the same easily disprovable rhetoric that's in almost all of his greatest hits clips. He expressed wonder that anyone would ever want to be a democrat since they are pro crime, they "embrace socialism", they want open borders to bring in drugs and violent gangs. And I quote from his speech,

"I've said it. And I'll say it as many times as you want to hear it. That it's because of their policy. The Democrats are truly the party of crime. (Applause) And the Dems are willing to do anything, to hurt anyone, to get the power they so desperately crave."

He pointed out the media to a chorus of boos and labeled them "fake news". He stated that "if we could only get them on our side, we'd win for a thousand years". Which seemed like a creepy shout out to Hitler claiming the Third Reich would last for a thousand years. He followed that up with saying that we had to keep focusing on "America First". All met with cheers, of course.

He praised himself for reworking NAFTA and teased the crowd with even more "deals" to come, and again claimed that his administration was the best two years of presidenting in the history of our country. I laughed out loud and got some glares from people around me, but it was as funny a statement tonight as when he said it at the UN.

He said that even China wants to make a deal, but he's not having it. "They're not ready yet. I told them, they're not ready. Nope. Not ready." And claimed again that he makes the best deals. Better than any other president in history.

He praised Kavenaugh effusively, and condemned the evil democrats whose only objective was to obstruct and deter an "incredible judge" from getting his rightful seat on the SCOTUS.

Before he started to introduce the people he came to stump for, he went of on some weird tangent listing off states that loved him like Missouri, West Virginia, Tennessee and others and never did find the point. This wasn't an isolated instance. He started many, many sentences that rambled away from any point throughout the evening, garnering cheers and whoops from his supporters, sometimes even at appropriate times.

It was a disjointed and disturbing speech on the whole. He demeaned, vilified, and insulted his political opponents and praised himself without any supporting evidence for either. His supporters loved it, of course, as it spoke directly to their world views of the evil Democrats trying to destroy the America that they love. It painted clearly defined "bad guys" - Democrats primarily, who are now to blame for the woes of immigrants and crime - and told them exactly who the "good guys" are... Only Republicans. If anyone came hoping to hear any kind of unifying speech or inclusive ideas, they were sadly disappointed.

Many years ago I had the chance to see Pope John Paul II in person, along with several thousand others. I'm not Catholic, and don't much care for some of their practises. But when he entered the immense hall, he had a presence about him. I was probably half a football field away from him at least, but I could sense it. His words were hopeful and loving. His demeanor was humble. Even a non - Catholic skeptic like me still found him to be incredibly moving, and I enjoyed being in his presence.

I was around twenty or thirty feet from 45. While his sycophants were almost in tears with their adoration of him, I didn't feel any presence. He seemed like a stereotypical used car salesman. He carried himself with the attitude of entitlement, and I think he genuinely believed that everyone there loved him. But in all, I didn't feel like I was in the presence of any sort of "great" man. It just felt...sad. Like he was desperate for the cheering and applause.

I was disturbed by his fawning supporters though. Literally willing to cheer any mess of words that tumbled from his mouth. They didn't really listen for comprehension, just for buzzwords to cheer or boo. Case in point was when he mentioned ICE, saying "The Democrats want to get rid of ICE." but before they could boo he added quickly "How about ICE, huh?" So the booing started after his impromptu line and it sounded like they were booing ICE. It only faded uncomfortably several sentences in to him saying how tough and wonderful ICE is.

I was hoping that there might be something different about attending a Trump rally in person than the usual stuff we see in the media. But from start to finish, those hopes were dashed. All of the "fake news" we see about his fans, his speeches, his incoherent ramblings... were all present tonight. He made a point of the "thousands and thousands of people in the auditorium" as well as the thousands and thousands more in the overflow room he'd just left, and the thousands upon thousands waiting outside.

Maybe we were in an "Alternative Overflow Room"?

Even as we left, the crowds outside around the giant monitor had dwindled, so it's really going to be hard to believe any word from the White House claiming tens of thousands turning out in Rochester.

I mentioned to Shelly as we left that I really wanted a shower, and maybe some bleach for my eyes, as I witnessed some truly disgusting and deplorable behavior. As we stepped outside, we found that it had been raining. I turned to Shel and said,

"See. Even God thinks Rochester needs a shower after this thing."

Shelly mentioned last week that she was going because "How often do you get to see a President?"

Honestly, I'm still looking forward to seeing an American President for the first time. Because I didn't see anything presidential tonight.