Batter Up

Because of ‘lead time,’ this is the first column I’ve actually written since the presidential election. Last week’s column was published after the election was over, but since I have to send the column to my editors on Sunday night, I wrote that one a couple of days before Voting Day. And because my opinion would have been likely to sway so many people and cause them to change their votes, I’ve avoided backing a particular candidate, so as to keep from warping the space-time continuum, and causing Earth to fall into the Sun. That’s what I’m going with, anyway.

The other reason I didn’t support one of the candidates in the election was that I didn’t like any of them. And I mean any, including Gary Johnson, who was not a real contender at the ballot box, but rivaled the best of them for bad ideas and silly quotes. Picking a presidential candidate this time around was a lot like choosing a particular log for the Log Ride at Six Flags. They each looked about as bad as the next, and you know you’re in for an uncomfortable ride and a good soaking before it’s over with.

Now that the election is done, maybe things will settle down. Not right away, of course. We’ll have to wait until the rioters finish destroying property and hurting people because they think Donald Trump will destroy property and hurt people as president. As I write this the riots are still going on in New York, Austin, LA, and Portland unchecked. I think there are riots over the election in Chicago, too, but how would we tell?

All I’ll say about politics is that, for the past two terms, Barack Obama has been my president, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed making fun of him and pointing out what a bad job he’s done. For at least the next four years, Donald Trump will be my president, and I expect I’ll enjoy making fun of him, too. Right now I’m just ready for Facebook to get back to normal. For several months I haven’t been able to watch stupid cat videos or find out what people are eating for lunch, and it’s killing me.

No doubt the riots will continue until the adults get fed up with it and start putting knots on some heads. I imagine the trauma will be difficult to deal with at certain universities for some time, since some of us are a lot more sensitive than others. And speaking of California, the people rioting over the painful election of Trump are not the only ones causing trouble. They also have turkeys.

Now, I’ve been trying to kill a turkey with a bow for the past five presidential administrations, and so far I’ve failed. I’ve come pretty close a few times, almost cutting the beard off of one tom from 50 yards once. But turkeys are far too skittish, normally, for me to get close enough to them with my old longbow. Plus, they seem to know when I’m around and when I leave. My wife used to call me at work and tell me there were turkeys in our backyard, and she once opened the front door and found a flock of them on the porch. She still hasn’t decided who was more surprised, her or the turkeys. From the condition of the porch after that incident, I’ve come to the conclusion that turkeys enjoy spicy food as much as I do.

But anytime I was at home, and especially when I was hunting, the turkeys made themselves plenty scarce, which is why I’m kind of envious of the folks in Davis, California right now. Because Davis has a flock of about 100 turkeys that hang around in town, and pretty much ignore people, and cars, and anything else that comes along. It’s gotten so bad that residents of Davis are calling 911 saying they’re being trapped or chased by the turkeys. Yes, chased.

This is a low point in the history of our nation, when Americans, even Californians, allow themselves to be terrorized by turkeys. How much of a wimp do you have to be to let a bird disrupt your day? A pretty big wimp, I’d say. Turkeys are large birds, sure, but we’re not talking pterodactyls, here. One good swing with a Louisville Slugger would put any turkey down for the count. I suspect you could probably kick one hard enough to change its plans, assuming a turkey has plans.

One group of the turkeys has mustered the gall to hang out in a local cemetery, desecrating the tombstones. It’s just not right.

The turkeys’ days are numbered, though. The Davis City Council has approved a plan to ‘deal with’ the turkeys. The article I read about it in Wide Open Spaces didn’t mention Marlon Brando or an offer the turkeys couldn’t refuse, but you can draw your own conclusions.

All I’ve got to say is that, if this happened in any Texas town, the friendly Texans would doubtless have already invited all the turkeys home for Thanksgiving Dinner . . .

Kendal Hemphill is an outdoor humor columnist and public speaker who plans to hunt turkeys with a Louisville Slugger from now on. Write to him at [email protected].