Jim Jones's Blog, page 4
September 16, 2014
GET A LIFE
Did you hear about the guy who gets up in the morning and the first thing he does is check to see where his fantasy football team is in the standings of his fantasy league. After that, he takes a shower, has some breakfast, and then plays a video game for about an hour. It’s a violent game and he gets killed a lot but it’s okay, he can just reset and start over. Finally, it’s time to go work. He has a dream job in law enforcement/security…literally a dream job. It’s his fantasy. In reality, he’s a security guard at the local mall. He isn’t allowed to carry a gun but they do let him have a taser. He had a custom leather holster made for it. He fantasizes about what it would be like to carry a real gun and be involved in a drug bust. Probably just like those video games he plays.
I’ve always been a sports fan but I have to admit, I just don’t get this fantasy sports thing. Although living vicariously through your sports heroes is nothing new, it seems as if we’ve sunk to new depths. When I hear guys talk about this topic, it’s all I can do not to scream, “Get your fat butts off the couch and actually go out and PLAY a sport! What you’re doing is NOT real!” I’m not sure they would get it. I want to tell them they’re not the same as the general managers of sports teams because they’re not risking anything. They’re not the same as the athletes because they’re not exerting any energy or making any sacrifices. IT’S A FANTASY!! Most of all, I want to tell them to grow up. Get a life. Children spend a great deal of time in a fantasy world. The difference is that most children actually learn from this process and as they mature, they take what they’ve learned and use it in productive ways.
People have always had dreams. If you look at the successes people have had over the centuries, you can count on the fact that each accomplishment began as a dream. Someone used their imagination and visualized something grand. Then, however, they took the next step. They came up with a plan and put it into action. They moved toward their vision step by step, often with many a stumble along the way. The successful ones picked themselves up and continued moving toward their goals, their ambitions fueled by the fire of their dreams. When Horace Greeley wrote the words, “Go West, young man,” people didn’t just sit around New York City fantasizing about it. They got in a wagon and did it. They risked everything. Many paid the ultimate price for failure but over time, they settled the West. It’s a good thing we didn’t have computers back then. We’d all still be living on the east coast playing “fantasy cowboys & Indians.”
What’s the harm, you might ask. No one gets hurt in this fantasy sports world. It’s just good clean fun. In the short run, you’d be right. I’m just a geezer on a rant about a 21st Century phenomenon that’s out of my comfort zone. In the long run though, I believe it’s insidious and destructive. People get used to finding their gratification with a minimum of risk and effort. They get comfortable with the idea that if their fantasy team is at the top of the league standings, they’ve actually done something noteworthy. Imagining an accomplishment replaces the actual doing of the deed. They live a “virtual life.” Their personal reality becomes disconnected with the real world. As this mentality grows and spreads, who knows where it will lead. Wait…I think I just described the plot for the Matrix movies. Hmm, maybe I’m onto something. I think I’ll sit around and fantasize about writing a futuristic science fiction opus about people sitting around fantasizing. If I do it long enough, maybe a book will pop out.
September 9, 2014
LET’S ROLL
Something else I’ll remember is what happened on United Airlines Flight 93. Two planes had already taken down the Twin Towers in New York City and a third plane had crashed into the Pentagon. Although we’re not sure what the target for the fourth plane was, we know with complete certainty that it was headed for an important site with the intention of killing the maximum number of people possible. That was not to be.
I’m sure that the passengers on Flight 93 represented a cross-section of the political philosophies here in the United States…conservative to liberal. It didn’t matter that day. One of the men who led the counter-attack on the terrorists was gay. It didn’t matter that day. In an amazing display of courage and clear thinking under the most extreme circumstances, these brave people managed to assess the situation, come together to devise a plan and boldly implement it within a matter of minutes. When the time came, they stood up and simply said, “Let’s roll.” Roll they did. They gave their lives in the process but in all likelihood, they saved many more lives with their actions. No one on the ground was injured. Whatever the target had been, it was not attacked.
In the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks, our country came together for a time. We understood that whatever our differences, we were bound together by much more important similarities. We stood together. I am a Texan and over the years, I’ve certainly enjoyed giving my friends from New York City a hard time. I remember thinking, “I can pick on them but by God, I’m willing to stand up to any of these hate-filled monsters and protect them in any way I possibly can.” Politics didn’t matter; people’s sexual orientation didn’t matter. We were all Americans.
Over time since then, that solidarity has eroded. These days, we’re locked in partisan gridlock. Our elected officials don’t seem to be willing to work together to address the critical issues we face and develop strategies to solve the problems related to those issues. We have people of all political stripes who treat each other as if we are the enemy. People talk a great deal yet few seem interested in listening. Compromise is a dirty word. We cannot afford to continue to go down this path.
I hear people say of 9/11, “Never forget.” Here’s what I think we need to remember. When push came to shove on United Airlines Flight 93, brave citizens set aside whatever differences there might have been among them, identified the problem and took action. They gave their lives for us. We OWE them! We need to stop focusing solely on the issues that divide us and begin looking at all the common ground we share. We need to actually spend some time listening to one another and seriously consider new and different solutions to problems. We need to politely tell our politicians, if they insist on remaining gridlocked, to sit down and shut up. We’ve got work to do; we’ve got problems to solve. We owe it to the brave passengers on Flight 93 and more importantly, we owe it to our children. Enough arguing. Let’s roll.
LET’S ROLL
There are moments in our lives that stand out with absolute clarity, no matter how far in the past they occurred. For me, that includes the happy occasions of my wedding and the births of my two wonderful children. It also includes dark times as well. I remember, even after all these years, exactly where I was when I heard the announcement that John Kennedy had been shot and subsequently, the announcement of his death. On Thursday morning, September 11, I will remember with absolute clarity where I was thirteen years ago when our country was viciously attacked by murderous fanatics. I’ll recall the horror and disbelief as what was occurring slowly sank in.
Something else I’ll remember is what happened on United Airlines Flight 93. Two planes had already taken down the TwinTowers in New York City and a third plane had crashed into the Pentagon. Although we’re not sure what the target for the fourth plane was, we know with complete certainty that it was headed for an important site with the intention of killing the maximum number of people possible. That was not to be.
I’m sure that the passengers on Flight 93 represented a cross-section of the political philosophies here in the United States…conservative to liberal. It didn’t matter that day. One of the men who led the counter-attack on the terrorists was gay. It didn’t matter that day. In an amazing display of courage and clear thinking under the most extreme circumstances, these brave people managed to assess the situation, come together to devise a plan and boldly implement it within a matter of minutes. When the time came, they stood up and simply said, “Let’s roll.” Roll they did. They gave their lives in the process but in all likelihood, they saved many more lives with their actions. No one on the ground was injured. Whatever the target had been, it was not attacked.
In the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks, our country came together for a time. We understood that whatever our differences, we were bound together by much more important similarities. We stood together. I am a Texan and over the years, I’ve certainly enjoyed giving my friends from New York City a hard time. I remember thinking, “I can pick on them but by God, I’m willing to stand up to any of these hate-filled monsters and protect them in any way I possibly can.” Politics didn’t matter; people’s sexual orientation didn’t matter. We were all Americans.
Over time since then, that solidarity has eroded. These days, we’re locked in partisan gridlock. Our elected officials don’t seem to be willing to work together to address the critical issues we face and develop strategies to solve the problems related to those issues. We have people of all political stripes who treat each other as if we are the enemy. People talk a great deal yet few seem interested in listening. Compromise is a dirty word. We cannot afford to continue to go down this path.
I hear people say of 9/11, “Never forget.” Here’s what I think we need to remember. When push came to shove on United Airlines Flight 93, brave citizens set aside whatever differences there might have been among them, identified the problem and took action. They gave their lives for us. We OWE them! We need to stop focusing solely on the issues that divide us and begin looking at all the common ground we share. We need to actually spend some time listening to one another and seriously consider new and different solutions to problems. We need to politely tell our politicians, if they insist on remaining gridlocked, to sit down and shut up. We’ve got work to do; we’ve got problems to solve. We owe it to the brave passengers on Flight 93 and more importantly, we owe it to our children. Enough arguing. Let’s roll.
September 2, 2014
DOGS, PART II
We had the advantage over Jessie and Colter, however. There were seven other dogs there and they didn’t know any of them. Upon arriving, we all set about the process of getting to know one another. There was a great deal of butt-sniffing (mostly by the dogs) and some growling and snarling (almost exclusively by the dogs). There were two dachshunds: Max, a regular run-of-the mill wiener dog and Bailey, a long-haired breed with a head much too big for his body. He looked kind of like a cartoon character but he was pretty sweet. There were two Jack Russell terriers, Bonnie and Clyde. Their names really say it all. There was Tiva, an older Lab/German Shepherd mix, who was quite mellow and pretty much remained above the fray. There was Clare, another mature female dog who was basically in charge of the camp. Then there was Riley. Riley is a one year old boxer who came in with her owners a number of hours after we had arrived. The dogs had already set up something of a pecking order so she really upset the apple cart.
From the get-go, Colter, being the youngest, got picked on. It was embarrassing and a bit humiliating to see him getting chased around the campfire by these tiny, noisy Jack Russells who pretty much believe they can whip the world (more about that later). When Riley arrived, I think Colter thought he might be off the hook since she’s younger than he is. It turns out that she didn’t want to be at the bottom of the ladder either. They glared at each other non-stop. Periodically, one would saunter over and invade the other’s territory and they would get into a little dust-up which freaked out some of the humans but didn’t see to bother the dogs much. I wanted to ask them how they could have a “territory” since they just got there!! I guess it’s a dog thing.
The humans said all the right things…“We should just let them go at it; they’ll work it out”…but never could seem to follow through with that idea. As a result, a couple of times a day, the peace and tranquility of the beautiful mountain setting was disturbed by snarls, snaps and people screaming, “STOP IT!” Fortunately, no blood was shed, either among the dogs or the humans. One little humorous and ironic note was that at one point, Riley was the aggressor towards Colter, jumping on him. Our Jessie, who is a fifty pound white Lab/Shepherd mix, leaped out like Wonderdog and backed Riley down. The irony, of course, is that at home, Jessie rules the roost and routinely kicks Colter’s butt even though he out-weighs her by twenty-five pounds. I guess it’s kind of a family thing though. We can fight with each other but if an outsider messes with one of us, he messes with all of us. I was proud of Jessie.
Somewhere along the way, Clyde, the male Jack Russell, decided that Jessie was a pretty hot mama and began making amorous overtures towards her. BIG MISTAKE!! Jessie does not suffer fools or horny little terriers. I happened to glance up the hill where Colter, Clyde and Jessie were playing and caught sight of Clyde running back to camp as if his tail was on fire with Jessie right behind him. For better or worse, she let him live. There’s probably a lesson in there that could generalize to many young men in our society. No means no. And don’t call me a bitch, even if I am one (as in female dog)…but I digress.
We had some great hikes and the dogs just loved it. On one, Bonnie and Clyde accompanied us…apparently there is a different set of rules away from camp as they were great friends while on the walk. They chased after God knows what, bounding up the side of the mountain like it was nothing, leaping and dashing every which way. They didn’t catch anything but they had a fine time. We had some tired doggies when we got back to camp.
I’ve written recently about how important it is for people to get out in the wilderness away from the hustle and bustle of big cities. I would have to say that it’s equally important to get your dogs out there in the woods, too. They love it and it’s a joy to see. Oh, yeah, and by the way, we humans got along pretty well with each other, too. No fights, minimal butt-sniffing, almost NO political discussions. Hmmm? Could that be why we got along?? Probably just a coincidence.
DOGS, PART II
We just went camping in the mountains northeast of Cuba, NM and we took our dogs. Jessie, the older one, had been camping before but Colter, our young, large and goofy dog, hadn’t been before. We were all pretty excited about the trip. The couple who invited us are old friends but we really didn’t know the rest of the almost twenty people there. You never know in these kind of deals whether or not you’re going to click with everyone. If someone rubs you wrong, it can make for a long weekend.
We had the advantage over Jessie and Colter, however. There were seven other dogs there and they didn’t know any of them. Upon arriving, we all set about the process of getting to know one another. There was a great deal of butt-sniffing (mostly by the dogs) and some growling and snarling (almost exclusively by the dogs). There were two dachshunds: Max, a regular run-of-the mill wiener dog and Bailey, a long-haired breed with a head much too big for his body. He looked kind of like a cartoon character but he was pretty sweet. There were two Jack Russell terriers, Bonnie and Clyde. Their names really say it all. There was Tiva, an older Lab/German Shepherd mix, who was quite mellow and pretty much remained above the fray. There was Clare, another mature female dog who was basically in charge of the camp. Then there was Riley. Riley is a one year old boxer who came in with her owners a number of hours after we had arrived. The dogs had already set up something of a pecking order so she really upset the apple cart.
From the get-go, Colter, being the youngest, got picked on. It was embarrassing and a bit humiliating to see him getting chased around the campfire by these tiny, noisy Jack Russells who pretty much believe they can whip the world (more about that later). When Riley arrived, I think Colter thought he might be off the hook since she’s younger than he is. It turns out that she didn’t want to be at the bottom of the ladder either. They glared at each other non-stop. Periodically, one would saunter over and invade the other’s territory and they would get into a little dust-up which freaked out some of the humans but didn’t see to bother the dogs much. I wanted to ask them how they could have a “territory” since they just got there!! I guess it’s a dog thing.
The humans said all the right things…“We should just let them go at it; they’ll work it out”…but never could seem to follow through with that idea. As a result, a couple of times a day, the peace and tranquility of the beautiful mountain setting was disturbed by snarls, snaps and people screaming, “STOP IT!” Fortunately, no blood was shed, either among the dogs or the humans. One little humorous and ironic note was that at one point, Riley was the aggressor towards Colter, jumping on him. Our Jessie, who is a fifty pound white Lab/Shepherd mix, leaped out like Wonderdog and backed Riley down. The irony, of course, is that at home, Jessie rules the roost and routinely kicks Colter’s butt even though he out-weighs her by twenty-five pounds. I guess it’s kind of a family thing though. We can fight with each other but if an outsider messes with one of us, he messes with all of us. I was proud of Jessie.
Somewhere along the way, Clyde, the male Jack Russell, decided that Jessie was a pretty hot mama and began making amorous overtures towards her. BIG MISTAKE!! Jessie does not suffer fools or horny little terriers. I happened to glance up the hill where Colter, Clyde and Jessie were playing and caught sight of Clyde running back to camp as if his tail was on fire with Jessie right behind him. For better or worse, she let him live. There’s probably a lesson in there that could generalize to many young men in our society. No means no. And don’t call me a bitch, even if I am one (as in female dog)…but I digress.
We had some great hikes and the dogs just loved it. On one, Bonnie and Clyde accompanied us…apparently there is a different set of rules away from camp as they were great friends while on the walk. They chased after God knows what, bounding up the side of the mountain like it was nothing, leaping and dashing every which way. They didn’t catch anything but they had a fine time. We had some tired doggies when we got back to camp.
I’ve written recently about how important it is for people to get out in the wilderness away from the hustle and bustle of big cities. I would have to say that it’s equally important to get your dogs out there in the woods, too. They love it and it’s a joy to see. Oh, yeah, and by the way, we humans got along pretty well with each other, too. No fights, minimal butt-sniffing, almost NO political discussions. Hmmm? Could that be why we got along?? Probably just a coincidence.
August 28, 2014
This is the title song to my upcoming CD. The wonderful...
This is the title song to my upcoming CD. The wonderful pictures of wild mustangs were taken by photographer Lori Faith from Tucson, AZ.
August 26, 2014
CIMARRON
We had performers from as far away as Monrovia, Indiana (that would be Mr. Dale Page), Texas (Kay Nowell from Alpine) and Colorado (Terry Nash, Floyd Beard). New Mexico was well-represented, too. Besides me and Rod Taylor, we had Mike Moutoux from Pinos Altos, Doug Figgs from Lemitar, Randy Huston from Rociada, Deanna Dickinson McCall from Timberon, Gayanne and Kara from Eagle Nest and finally, from the shortest distance (about .2 mile is my guess), Dennis Russell Nazelrod. We had poet Duke Vance as well and for the life of me, I can’t remember where he’s from (sorry Duke). Legendary local cowboy, historian and author, Steve Zimmer, was our emcee and he did a stellar job. We also had the great group, Saddle Sores, who provided the background music at the beginning and break as well as providing the sound for the event. They were as friendly, cooperative and competent group of sound engineers as I’ve ever worked with.
No event, even the best planned ones, ever goes off without a hitch. One problem Dennis hadn’t anticipated was the weather. No, it didn’t rain; he was prepared for that. The weather was BEAUTIFUL. It was a warm…VERY warm…clear day and the sun got pretty intense. We should always have this kind of problem. People accommodated by congregating in the covered areas and the show went on. Rod Taylor wasn’t able to be there for his early afternoon performance…no problem. Wonderful Utah poet, Jerry Brooks…okay, Brooksie is how we all know her…stepped into his slot at the last minute and delivered an outstanding performance. WMA Hall of Famer RW Hampton and his lovely wife, Lisa, stopped in just to support the event and late in the afternoon, Rod Taylor prevailed on RW to jump up on stage. RW, Rod and Steve Zimmer started working together as cowboys at Philmont back in the 70s so they go WAY back! Randy Huston and I threw in some mandolin, guitar and harmonies and we had as an “instant” band. For his last song, RW deferred to his 13 year old son, Calvin, (how can you be SO tall at 13??) who sang a beautiful rendition of the song, “Home,” from the mini-series, “Gods & Generals.” Looks like there’s another budding star in the Hampton family.
Some friends of mine from Albuquerque came up to attend their first cowboy gathering. By the end of the day, they had been thoroughly entertained and were completely satisfied. The next morning, they attended their first-ever Cowboy Church and described it as a very spiritual experience. It was hard to tell how many people attended the event during the day because they were so spread out in their quest to avoid the sun’s searing rays. Late in the afternoon, when the sun went down far enough, Steve Zimmer directed folks to pull their chairs out in front of the beautiful stage (constructed by Dennis, Dale Page and his cousin, Harvey). They just filled up the patio area. Some folks came early and stayed for awhile. Some came later and stayed till the bitter end (well, it was more of a “sweet” end). Some brave souls came early and stayed late.
I’m writing about this event because I think it represents something special that you tend to find in the Western community. When someone has a good idea, folks tend to pitch in and do whatever it takes to make it happen. There is a sense of camaraderie that makes all the hard work seem like fun. People look out for each other and do whatever they can to lend a hand. That is the spirit of the West and it was embodied in this gathering. Thanks to the Express St. James Hotel and Philmont Scout Ranch, along with the other sponsors, for their support. Thanks to Dennis Russell Nazelrod and his lovely wife, Jana, for all their hard work. Good job. Hope to see all of you next year at the SECOND Annual Cimarron Cowboy Music & Poetry Gathering.
There is a photo album on Facebook called "Cimarron" where you can see photos from the event. Here is the link. Enjoy. Wish you could have been there. https://www.facebook.com/buchanan.ran...
CIMARRON
On June 6, I performed at the St. James Hotel in Cimarron, NM. Rod Taylor happened to have a rare opening in his busy performance schedule so he came out to hear me. At break, we were sitting with Dennis Russell Nazelrod who told us he wanted to organize a cowboy gathering at the St. James. We thought it was a fine idea. We also thought he was talking about 2015. “Nope”, he said, “August 23rd, 2014.” It turned out both Rod and I had openings in our schedules and we both signed on. We were a bit skeptical about whether he could pull it together though. After all, he only had 2 ½ months to get the performers scheduled, find sponsorships and lodging, and get the word out to the public. Turns out we were dead wrong. When a cowboy makes up his mind to do something, he doesn’t stop until it’s done. Dennis got’er done.
We had performers from as far away as Monrovia, Indiana (that would be Mr. Dale Page), Texas (Kay Nowell from Alpine) and Colorado (Terry Nash, Floyd Beard). New Mexico was well-represented, too. Besides me and Rod Taylor, we had Mike Moutoux from Pinos Altos, Doug Figgs from Lemitar, Randy Huston from Rociada, Deanna Dickinson McCall from Timberon, Gayanne and Kara from Eagle Nest and finally, from the shortest distance (about .2 mile is my guess), Dennis Russell Nazelrod. We had poet Duke Vance as well and for the life of me, I can’t remember where he’s from (sorry Duke). Legendary local cowboy, historian and author, Steve Zimmer, was our emcee and he did a stellar job. We also had the great group, Saddle Sores, who provided the background music at the beginning and break as well as providing the sound for the event. They were as friendly, cooperative and competent group of sound engineers as I’ve ever worked with.
No event, even the best planned ones, ever goes off without a hitch. One problem Dennis hadn’t anticipated was the weather. No, it didn’t rain; he was prepared for that. The weather was BEAUTIFUL. It was a warm…VERY warm…clear day and the sun got pretty intense. We should always have this kind of problem. People accommodated by congregating in the covered areas and the show went on. Rod Taylor wasn’t able to be there for his early afternoon performance…no problem. Wonderful Utah poet, Jerry Brooks…okay, Brooksie is how we all know her…stepped into his slot at the last minute and delivered an outstanding performance. WMA Hall of Famer RW Hampton and his lovely wife, Lisa, stopped in just to support the event and late in the afternoon, Rod Taylor prevailed on RW to jump up on stage. RW, Rod and Steve Zimmer started working together as cowboys at Philmont back in the 70s so they go WAY back! Randy Huston and I threw in some mandolin, guitar and harmonies and we had as an “instant” band. For his last song, RW deferred to his 13 year old son, Calvin, (how can you be SO tall at 13??) who sang a beautiful rendition of the song, “Home,” from the mini-series, “Gods & Generals.” Looks like there’s another budding star in the Hampton family.
Some friends of mine from Albuquerque came up to attend their first cowboy gathering. By the end of the day, they had been thoroughly entertained and were completely satisfied. The next morning, they attended their first-ever Cowboy Church and described it as a very spiritual experience. It was hard to tell how many people attended the event during the day because they were so spread out in their quest to avoid the sun’s searing rays. Late in the afternoon, when the sun went down far enough, Steve Zimmer directed folks to pull their chairs out in front of the beautiful stage (constructed by Dennis, Dale Page and his cousin, Harvey). They just filled up the patio area. Some folks came early and stayed for awhile. Some came later and stayed till the bitter end (well, it was more of a “sweet” end). Some brave souls came early and stayed late.
I’m writing about this event because I think it represents something special that you tend to find in the Western community. When someone has a good idea, folks tend to pitch in and do whatever it takes to make it happen. There is a sense of camaraderie that makes all the hard work seem like fun. People look out for each other and do whatever they can to lend a hand. That is the spirit of the West and it was embodied in this gathering. Thanks to the Express St. James Hotel and Philmont Scout Ranch, along with the other sponsors, for their support. Thanks to Dennis Russell Nazelrod and his lovely wife, Jana, for all their hard work. Good job. Hope to see all of you next year at the SECOND Annual Cimarron Cowboy Music & Poetry Gathering.
There is a photo album on Facebook called “Cimarron” where you can see photos from the event. Here is the link. Enjoy. Wish you could have been there. https://www.facebook.com/buchanan.ran...
August 19, 2014
CRITTERS
It is quite common these days in small towns located near forests and mountains to have animals come into town looking for food. I was just performing in Woodland Park, CO and late that night, on the way back to where I was staying, we saw not only a bunch of deer but also a fox. We hear stories all the time in Albuquerque about bears coming down from the foothills during dry times looking for food and water. The more our cities encroach on their territory, the less these animals fear us. The mistake some people make is in assuming that means the animals are tame. They are not tame. They are wild animals. Even a deer, if it feels threatened, can do pretty serious damage to a human in the process of defending itself. Those mothers I mentioned above knew what they were doing. Did I mention that the man was an idiot?
There are a lot of stories circulated about visitors to Yellowstone National Park who get mauled because they feed the bears. There’s a story about a fellow who wanted his wife to take his picture sitting on a buffalo. When he tried to mount up, the buffalo proceeded to stomp him to death. In the best version of the story, the man is a Frenchman. I’ve heard tales about people trying to approach and “befriend” a moose…my friend, Ross Knox once tried to rope a moose but that’s another story. I was discussing this issue with some friends recently and we wondered if some of this craziness can be attributed to those of us who grew up watching cartoons such as Yogi Bear, Bullwinkle and Rocky, and Bambi. Those little cartoon critters are SO cute! The thing you need to know is that none of these wild animals watched those cartoons.
Several years ago, my wife and I were in Sequoia National Park, a truly amazing place. There is a long meadow in the park with a trail encircling it and we took the several mile hike around it. The meadow is not that wide and at one point, we looked across in horror to see a family, both parents and young teen-age children, approaching a black bear that was rolling in the grass of the meadow. By the way, the bear had its cinnamon coat at the time and was beautiful. They apparently wanted to get some close-up shots of the bear to post on Facebook or something and were probably only fifteen feet away from it. Fortunately, there didn’t appear to be any cubs around but of course, you never know…until it’s too late. My wife made a comment about how dangerous it was and a hiker who happened to be walking by at the time said, “Oh, it’s all right, they’re practically tame.” My wife, who is not one to suffer fools quietly, explained that, in fact, they were wild animals and were capable of killing you. The woman walked off in a huff. Of course, we were in California. Maybe the bears in LA are tame.
Last week, I wrote about people being disconnected from nature, which to me is a sad thing. This week, I’m writing about people being ignorant of nature, which is a dangerous thing. This ignorance can lead to people getting hurt and even killed. I have little sympathy for some of those folks when they’ve been warned and choose to ignore the information they’re given (that sign, “Don’t Feed the Bears” means DON’T FEED THE DAMN BEARS!). What really makes me mad is that often, when they provoke an attack through their ignorance, the animal is captured and killed. I could have said “put down” or “euthanized” but in fact, they’re killed. They are being true to their nature and following the rules of wild animals. When we come into their domain and ignore those rules, bad things can happen. You might want to spread the word to people who will be traveling to wilderness areas with which they are unfamiliar that those cute little critters are really wild animals. Not mean, not evil, just wild. Respect that.
CRITTERS
I recently did a performance in the city park in the small mountain town of Cimarron here in New Mexico (“Where the Rockies meet the Plains” is the sign that greets you as you drive into town). During the concert, a deer wandered through the park, paying little attention to the crowd and to the music, for that matter. Everyone’s a critic. Anyway, the deer was obviously hoping to find some food lying about. There were some children there and they were fascinated by the deer, edging closer to her as time went on. A couple of the savvy mothers intervened, telling the children to stay away from the deer. Another attendee at the concert, up from Albuquerque, admonished the mothers, telling them it was okay because the deer was “tame.” What an idiot.
It is quite common these days in small towns located near forests and mountains to have animals come into town looking for food. I was just performing in Woodland Park, CO and late that night, on the way back to where I was staying, we saw not only a bunch of deer but also a fox. We hear stories all the time in Albuquerque about bears coming down from the foothills during dry times looking for food and water. The more our cities encroach on their territory, the less these animals fear us. The mistake some people make is in assuming that means the animals are tame. They are not tame. They are wild animals. Even a deer, if it feels threatened, can do pretty serious damage to a human in the process of defending itself. Those mothers I mentioned above knew what they were doing. Did I mention that the man was an idiot?
There are a lot of stories circulated about visitors to YellowstoneNational Park who get mauled because they feed the bears. There’s a story about a fellow who wanted his wife to take his picture sitting on a buffalo. When he tried to mount up, the buffalo proceeded to stomp him to death. In the best version of the story, the man is a Frenchman. I’ve heard tales about people trying to approach and “befriend” a moose…my friend, Ross Knox once tried to rope a moose but that’s another story. I was discussing this issue with some friends recently and we wondered if some of this craziness can be attributed to those of us who grew up watching cartoons such as Yogi Bear, Bullwinkle and Rocky, and Bambi. Those little cartoon critters are SO cute! The thing you need to know is that none of these wild animals watched those cartoons.
Several years ago, my wife and I were in SequoiaNational Park, a truly amazing place. There is a long meadow in the park with a trail encircling it and we took the several mile hike around it. The meadow is not that wide and at one point, we looked across in horror to see a family, both parents and young teen-age children, approaching a black bear that was rolling in the grass of the meadow. By the way, the bear had its cinnamon coat at the time and was beautiful. They apparently wanted to get some close-up shots of the bear to post on Facebook or something and were probably only fifteen feet away from it. Fortunately, there didn’t appear to be any cubs around but of course, you never know…until it’s too late. My wife made a comment about how dangerous it was and a hiker who happened to be walking by at the time said, “Oh, it’s all right, they’re practically tame.” My wife, who is not one to suffer fools quietly, explained that, in fact, they were wild animals and were capable of killing you. The woman walked off in a huff. Of course, we were in California. Maybe the bears in LA are tame.
Last week, I wrote about people being disconnected from nature, which to me is a sad thing. This week, I’m writing about people being ignorant of nature, which is a dangerous thing. This ignorance can lead to people getting hurt and even killed. I have little sympathy for some of those folks when they’ve been warned and choose to ignore the information they’re given (that sign, “Don’t Feed the Bears” means DON’T FEED THE DAMN BEARS!). What really makes me mad is that often, when they provoke an attack through their ignorance, the animal is captured and killed. I could have said “put down” or “euthanized” but in fact, they’re killed. They are being true to their nature and following the rules of wild animals. When we come into their domain and ignore those rules, bad things can happen. You might want to spread the word to people who will be traveling to wilderness areas with which they are unfamiliar that those cute little critters are really wild animals. Not mean, not evil, just wild. Respect that.
