Open water fishing is long past, hunting seasons have come and gone, ice fishing is yet a hope for the new year, and regional outdoorsmen are currently somewhat adrift in free time. A sport can only stand so much time cleaning, reconditioning, and storing gear and equipment.
Thankfully there are plenty of sporting goods stores to visit and a boatload of outdoor catalogs to peruse, ponder and pass spare time over.
With Christmas just around the corner, it’s wish and hope time, and occasionally an outdoorsman confined to the house for too long can begin to daydream, even become obsessed with just what Mrs. Santa has in store for him. Has he been a good little hubby? Why don’t there seem to be any presents with his name on them? One thing leads to another, it’s an icy slope and all downhill from there as the poor soul, who shall remain nameless, found out in the following parody of “The Night Before Christmas.” Take heed from this lesson, sports, and behave for a few more days: doors
“Twas the day before Christmas, I’d searched all through the house,
I couldn’t uncover one single gift from my spouse.
In the bedroom my clothes were strewn everywhere,
I’d ransacked the closets and drawers in hopes of finding them there.
The children were hiding under desk and ‘neath beds,
Knowing this time for sure Dad was out of his head.
From out on the front lawn, there arose lots of clatter;
The kids were yelling to motorists, ”Dad’s mad as a hatter.”
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore back the curtains and threw up the sash.
‘Quit causing a scene,’ I yelled, ‘Come back inside,
I haven’t much time left before your mother arrives.’
When to my horrified eyes should appear,
But my wife speeding toward home with the car in high gear.
She jumped from the car and my stomach felt sick;
If I was going to survive I had to think quick.
More rapid than geese her curses they came,
She screamed and she hollered and called me bad names.
When they started inside, she told Susie and Jim,
‘If he’s been searching for gifts, it’s all over for him.’
To the top of the stairs, to the top of the house,
I’d search through the attic while I hid from my spouse.
As goose down caught in the wild wind doth scatter;
I searched every corner, for each second did matter.
As she prowled up the stairway, her oaths they did fly;
And I knew I was trapped in the room near the sky.
Then in a twinkling the idea came to light;
If I hid out on the roof I might just save my life.
As I opened the window and was turning around
Through the doorway she burst making threatening sounds.
Slowly my jury approached foot by foot;
‘What are you doing up here, Speak up you old coot!’
I said, ‘I can’t remember where my fishing gear’s packed.’
She said, ‘It’s still in your truck, now let’s hear the real facts.’
Her eyes fairly sparked, her cheeks glowed like cherries;
I pondered which suit I’d look best to bury.
My droll little mouth was drawn in a bow;
Playing for sympathy I turned white as the snow.
‘I was looking for presents,’ through clenched teeth I did speak;
‘I’d never touch them you know, I just wanted to peek.’
A smile finally broke through, and she turned kind of mellow;
In fact she laughed so darn hard she shook like new Jello.
With resigned love and pity she led me downstairs;
She said, ‘Tthis close to Christmas I can’t stand your despair.’
With a wink of her eye she explained slowly to me,
If I had explored all year long, why not a present I’d see.
Then she spoke not a word as she led me about,
And sure enough they were there, right under my snout.
One gift on my workbench, where I never clean,
another right out in the open by my workout machine.
I was shown other presents right out in plain sight;
She knew me right well, my jolly sweet elf,
And I had to laugh in spite of myself.
She gathered them all, and placed ‘neath the tree;
‘If you touch one,’ she said sweetly, ‘you’ll answer to me.’
Men listen to me and heed what I say;
They know us inside and out, in every small way.
Give up the search, relax, and have a cold beer;
Merry Christmas to all and a Happy New Year!
-
- Sportsmen need to save wear and tear on their mind and body before Christmas. Don’t bother searching for gifts, they will show up under the tree in good time. (Courtesy of Bill Graves)
