Monday, July 03, 2006

You can stand me up at the gates of hell
But I won't back down

OK.

Yesterday was a travel day.

I will have wedding photos and concert footage ready to post in a little while.

(The wedding was beautiful. Everyone had a blast. Great people. Great party. My writing/reading was well-received.)

In the meantime, I have to turn around and get ready to head into the wilderness!

I called Will Danger just a few minutes ago.

He was throwing his gear together before he flies out here.

"Well, Dude. Sleeping bag, fly rod, line, some flies, my smokewagon, some cooking gear..."

"Your smokewagon?!"

"Yeah, dude, my smokewagon. .44 Blackhawk. Long-barrel."

{Hysterical laughter}

"No shit, Dude."

"You're gonna carry a five pound gun?!"

"Yeah, Dude. If I'm gonna get chased and eaten by a bear, I'm gonna skin that smokewagon and see what happens. Even if I don't get it out and get a shot off, I'll feel better knowing I have it."

"Well, good. That makes me feel better."

"It should."

"Because now all I have to worry about is running faster than you, and I am pretty sure I can do that. Especially when you are carrying five extra pounds of steel."

"Well, yeah. And when you feel your kneecap explode, and see me running by with my smokewagon, just know that's the law of the jungle."

"OK, Wyatt Earp. See you and your smokewagon at the airport."

It's official.

I think I have become "The Dude," because Will Danger is channeling Walter Sobchak.

Sure as shit.

This is not Nam, Smokey. This is bowling. There are rules.

Mark it Zero!


This should be an interesting week.

2 Comments:

Blogger P. said...

This may be a dumb question but how does one transport a "smokewagon" on a plane? Check it with the luggage? And that's okay?

5:22 PM  
Blogger shy_smiley said...

better luck hunting wolverines in Alaska with a frickin' 12-gauge

catch me a delicious bass, why dontcha?

7:10 PM  

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