Monday, November 28th, 2005, 1:41 pm
I can’t state with confidence that Red Dawn was the stupidest movie ever made, but I think it’s almost certainly the stupidest war movie ever made. If you somehow missed the 1984 flick starring Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey (yes, they were together long before Dirty Dancing) the idea is that the Russians and the Cubans (Cubans?) invade the U.S. of A. and kick off World War III. Then these plucky Colorado teenagers run off into the woods and conduct a guerrilla against the marauding Reds.
Now, the flick was made when the Soviet menace was quite menacing and confidence in our military strength was lacking. But you gotta be shitting me. I think the idea was that the Russkies nuked our ICBM and bomber sites and then flew troops in on passenger planes and started seizing territory. Which makes about, oh, zero sense, but let’s forget that gigantic plot hole. OK, so the bad guys are here, and they’re doing bad things (shooting up schools, setting up prison camps, etc). So the kids run off into the woods and start plinking convoys and ambushing the bad guys and lots of fun stuff like that.
You get the impression from the movie that these kids, whose war cry was the name of their football team, “Wolverines!” (no doubt making people in Ann Arbor shake their heads and say, “That has nothing to do with us”) are the only people in the area fighting back. Well, I want to make something perfectly clear to any nation thinking about using United Airlines as a means to invading America–you’re gonna be up against more than Charlie Sheen and C. Thomas Howell.
Today is the opening day of deer season here in Pennsylvania, and according to the news it’s estimated that 900,000 hunters will be taking to the woods with venison on their minds. Let me repeat that number again–NINE HUNDRED FREAKING THOUSAND. To put this in some perspective, the 1st Marine Division has 19,000 soldiers. So, compare 900K to 19K. Nine hundred is much bigger. Of course, we need further perspective–19,000 freezing, beer-sodded hunters do not have the same combat power as the 1st Marine Division. Not even if Wal-Mart had a sale on ammo this past weekend. But the idea that there are nearly a million rifles searching for brown, furry quadripeds in my home state alone should convince you that invading the United States is not a decision to be taken lightly.
Yesterday was a nice day here in the Burgh and I thought about taking a hike through the woods near my house. But I couldn’t remember if hunting season started Sunday or Monday. And while I could easily have found out, it’s possible that there were some goofballs out there who didn’t know and wouldn’t check. And they might be heavily armed. I stayed in and played poker.
I don’t hunt myself, as I don’t think I could aim a rifle at a deer and pull the trigger. I don’t have anything against hunting, per se, and I like deer kielbasa and deer bologna and deerjerky, but I’m a lover, not a killer. Plus I proved that I can’t hit the broad side of a barn a few weeks ago when I went target shooting with some friends. I’d never fired a handgun before, and while I liked the way Matt’s Glock looked in my hand (it made me feel big and tough) I couldn’t get within a country mile of anything I took aim at. Here’s a weird thing–when I aim, I can’t keep both eyes open, because I get double vision. Either the gun mirrors, or the target. I should’ve mentioned this to my doctor the other day when I got my eyes checked, but I don’t plan on shooting anything (or anyone) in the near future and forgot about it.
My brother is probably right now sitting in his tree stand, waiting for a deer to wander into his field of fire. That’s the only way I’d ever go hunting–no way am I wandering around the woods with a million jacked-up guys desperate to bag a buck. I don’t care how much blaze orange you wear, a stray bullet can fly a long, long way and really ruin your morning. No thanks.
I hope the hunters have a good day because my area is positively infested with deer. Driving along the road I live on requires constant vigilance because you’re almost always confronted with deer crossing the road. Just last Monday I had to jam on my brakes to avoid a doe, and as I started forward again two more doe popped up over the guard rail and skipped across the road. I swear the last one in line looked sheepish as she made me brake again. They’re a menace. So, while I can’t bring myself to do the wet work myself, I will enjoy the results. Especially if the results are served with cheese and crackers.
5 Responses to “A Hunting We Will Go”
Leave a Reply