The changing of the guard is upon us, but not in the literal sense at Arlington Cemetery, Buckingham Palace, St. James’s Palace, or Wellington Barracks. I am referring to the closing out of 2023 and the welcoming of 2024. I use the term “welcoming” very loosely. Where did it go? I can’t keep up with the days, months, or years, anymore. I know fully well that I am not alone in the realization that there is no pause in work, social life, or any part of life for that matter. Many schools were not even out for the Christmas holidays until the Friday before Christmas Eve. Half of the fun for the youngsters is the anticipation of Santa and all their dreams of sugar plums. Shopping with mom and dad, watching movies of the season, and helping in the kitchen, are vital parts of the entire experience of what so many of us look forward to for 12 months of the year.
By the time we’re relaxed and in the festive mood, it’s gone. Truthfully, it’s a sad situation that the kids can’t be out for at least a week before tracks of soot are left in our dens. Oh, how I long for the simpler days and times.
Just the other day I was having this discussion with a few of my hunting “pardners.” The change from our high school days compared to now are monumental. We thought nothing of having our squirrel guns and deer rifles in the gun racks of the old pickups and broncos. Do you recall seeing the single-cab trucks with a gun rack mounted in the back windshield? The blazers, broncos, and international scouts had the luxury of having the racks on both of the side windows. As soon as the bell rang, if we weren’t practicing baseball or football, we would change clothes when we got to the woods and hit the trail. In fact, many of our coaches told us to bring our hunting gear to school so we wouldn’t waste time by going back home to gather our necessities, for they would make the jaunt to the swamps with us many days. Can you imagine the melee that would occur today if the country boys had their 30.06 rifles in the window of their muddy trucks parked at school? They would call out the National Guard.
I remember having a frog gig stuck out the window of my 1973 Grand Prix while driving around town in the summer. It was almost a “nightly” tradition to meet up with our coaches and hit all the farm ponds. We would then go to the field house and skin our croakers. When we had a freezer full, the booster club would have a frog leg frying and a fund raiser for athletic gear, or more shotgun shells, or crickets and worms, whatever was most needed. What would current administrations do if they pulled into the parking lot and found an arsenal of barbed gigs sticking out of the back of trucks and sacks of lemon chins chilling on ice? It would make headlines for sure.
We weren’t glued to cell phones and computers back in the day, for there were none of these evil devices even invented then. We romped the woods and streams every minute we could. I recently read an article that stated our “youth” today spends an average of six minutes per day out of doors. Are you kidding me? I remember being called to dinner just after the nightly news for a family sit down meal. This was an everyday occurrence, and we hurriedly scoffed our food down to hopefully get back outside for a few more minutes of play before nightfall. We were bored to tears on those rainy days when we were forced to stay inside. Reluctantly, we would sharpen our knives and fishing hooks, or clean our firearms in anticipation of the next opportunity to hit the fishing holes or the squirrel woods.
Seldom did we even ask permission to fish in those pristine lakes we passed daily as we rode bicycles through the countryside. When we were confronted by landowners that objected to our presence, they normally gave in and just asked that we tell them the next time we planned to raid their bream beds. I really think they were more concerned with our safety, and wanted to make sure we wore life jackets if we fished from the boat that was tied to the willow tree. Gosh, how I miss those times, but more so, I feel for our youth today not having the luxury and opportunities to be as free as we were.
I wonder what brought about the change. There was no such thing as gangs at school. School shootings were unheard of. I’m sure there were isolated cases of drug use, but it was rare. Disputes were settled on the field or in the parking lot, and after it was over, you picked up where you left off going back to being friends, going fishing, and what not. Today, even in our local schools, police are called regularly to take control of fights in the halls. I can only imagine what would take place back at home if law enforcement or principals ever had to call my dad. I don’t entirely blame the youth for their shortfalls, though all of us are ultimately accountable for our actions. Have you ever heard the cliché, “Spare the rod, spoil the child?” I blame parents for the actions of many of the issues we see daily with our youth. Rather, I should say for the parent’s lack of action. When you stop hearing yes ma’am and no sir, the issues begin.
Drug use runs rampant in our societies these days. This is crazy. I don’t get it. With all the wonderful opportunities there are for hunting, fishing, camping, hiking, bird watching, and the list goes on and on and on, why in the world would someone smoke some substance or stick a powder up their nose for a so-called “thrill?” What a weak individual those are that must lean on some artificial stimulant to make it through the day. And if you fall into this category, what message are you sending to those that look up to you? My mentors, besides my dad and his skills in the woods and with a rifle, were those men that could tease a largemouth bass into striking a topwater bait, run a trapline, call ducks, and trick an old gobbler. These are the men I looked up to. Not those with a business suit that had no inkling of what the outdoors held. I call them “all hat and no cattle.”
Somehow, someway, we must re-connect with the youngsters today, and show them there is more to life than video games, hanging out at a mall, and traveling down the wrong road of life. It’s easy to get side-tracked, but when you realize the road you’re on leads to a quagmire, then you must put it in four-wheel drive and get back on the high road. Remember that road and if you travel back down it, then know that this a choice and be prepared to suffer the consequences that come from using poor judgement. This stuff isn’t easy, but neither is going to jail or possibly worse. Think about it!
We all know right from wrong and there is a big, beautiful world out there full of excitement and new discoveries that will help one grow. We used to have a bumper sticker on the back of our bronco that I got from Bill Montgomery, owner of a sporting goods store, in Starkville. It read, “take your child hunting, and you won’t have to hunt your child.” Makes a lot of sense, doesn’t it. Paul Ott Carruth wrote a song, and you can still find it if you look for it. The verse that still resonates with me goes like this… “take a boy huntin, teach him how to tell, the big buck’s whistle, and the bobcat’s yell, the outdoor life was put there for you and put there for me.” I’m sure you can find it, and no truer words have ever been spoken. If you see, or know of a youngster, headed down the wrong path, take it upon yourself to introduce him or her to the real “high” in life, this being the great outdoors. The impact you have will be life changing, for the good. I have witnessed this happen over and over.
How profound would it be not to read of bad news in the papers, but success stories that carry positivity? We seem to love dirty laundry, but why not put this aside for a good news channel? I ask you to pause, for just a moment, and contemplate what I have been writing about. Surely, you must agree that we can do more to help our youth become noble citizens and pillars of our communities. I bet, if we work together, we can have a positive impact on their lives. What a better time to start than now, with a new year upon us. I challenge you to take the reins, and if you do, I am certain you will continue to do so for years to come. Remember, if you plant good seed, they will sprout and grow. Think about it. Until next time enjoy our woods and waters and remember, let’s leave it better than we found it. Happy New Year!
