We recently took our daughter, Krista, on a “Bow Shoot” in the middle of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. I packed the warmest and brightest possible clothes so the animals and the men carrying the pointy sticks could easily see me. Krista had the same idea and packed fluorescent pink…everything.
But when we arrived at the camp everyone was wearing mostly brown "brush" camouflage. If I had wanted to "blend in" I most definitely would have purchased the dark green and beige splotched variety of camouflage and thus, would have been shot at instantly for looking like "Predator" or an otherwise large, scary, moving bush.
“I'm going to invent “Living Room Couch” camouflage so next time you won't be able to FIND me when these kinds of things come up, ” I offered Fred. Fred gave each of his friends a different excuse for our embarrassing colored outfits:
“My wife and daughter are both color blind.” And the just as believable:
“There were these two hitchhikers.” to:
“Can ANYONE throw me a beer?”
All in all, I did learn a lot:
1. The difference between a real bow and a compound bow. Krista has a real bow, like Shootsthebuffalo used in “Dances with Wolves.” Compound bows have a technological adaptation on your more primitive weapon that uses pulleys to shoot further. Native Americans would probably have kept this country for themselves if someone had invented a compound bow sooner. Second runner-up to Sitting Bull’s chiefdom could very well have beaten Sitting Bull in a sharp-shooter competition and been crowned chief had he been able to use a compound bow with its optional laser “sight” (read: arrow GPS).
2. What is, and is not “GAME.” Game is what kind of animal you can shoot. At Station 14, Krista thought a giant ground hog decoy looked like a monkey (never shoot a monkey). Our dog, tied to the wrong tree, also isn’t “game.”
3. Never tie your dog to a tree at a bow shoot.
4. The NOSE of a fake animal is always 0 points, even when an obnoxiously dressed city woman balks that a nose IS a vital organ.
5. If this were a real hunt, I would have been duct-taped to the cabin for cheering and applauding. Enthusiasm, here, is frowned upon.
Finally, I knew before we left that there was no working plumbing at the camp. I was prepared. I didn’t even complain.
“Who dropped the purple hand sanitizer?” the host asked holding up a purse-sized bottle. Everyone turned to look at me. “Why would you think it’s mine?” I asked, scratching the giant red bobble on my bright green wool hat.
“Mom, it IS yours. Remember I gave it back to you when you said weren’t eating off those plates?”
It was really time to go anyway.
“You were kind of fun,” Fred said to me on the drive home, “Thank you.”