The Poacher

I love my husband more than anything in the world, I really do, but some of his hick-like tendencies frighten me. He openly admits to having these tendencies, which I think is probably a good thing, but it worries me nonetheless. I just try to play it off as his inner caveman. All men have them I think. The only hick thing that really bothers me, though, is his ever growing shotgun collection. I'm pretty vehemently anti-gun and consider the NRA to be an offshoot of really horrible organizations and Old Boys' Clubs like the KKK. Yes, I hate it that much. So as you can imagine, we have had many debates that just end up in a fight, but at this point in our relationship, I know it's better to avoid the subject altogeher, but he called me last night with a pretty funny gun story that I had to share.

So while I am stuck in Manhattan this weekend to cover the Tribeca Film Festival for work, Tim is down on the farm, working away. At the end of the day yesterday, I guess he decided to pull out the gun collection and started firing off shots. Well, the neighbor in the old stone barn next door heard the shots and though there was someone on our property trying to hunt out of season. Tim, with his ear protectors on, did not hear her SCREAMING at him until after she had already called the police. When he did finally hear her (he emphasized that she was actually, really and truly SCREAMING), he walked up the long driveway and chased after her that it was just him, the owner. She was like whoops, but the cops were already on their way. She was really embarrassed when they showed up but, Tim being Tim, he really yucked it up with the copper, talking about the crazy old lady. In fact, turns out the cop was the one who discovered Steven, the farmer who hung himself, hanging in our barn. Weird stuff. After a lot of standing around and chatting, as only cops can do, he put his cap back on then drove off. To add a little more humor to an already strange moment, our stupid dog ran after the cop car for about a mile with Tim waving and running behind the car but that damn dog is fast and the cop didn't notice and almost killed the poor dog. I guess she finally ran out of steam and then trotted back to Tim unharmed. Tim however almost had a heart attack from the sprinting and seeing her almost die. Meanwhile, I was drinking a glass of 15 dollar wine at a swank hotel bar chatting about all the movies I had seen all day. And we go back to the overall theme of this here blog; why would anyone in their right mind want to be shooting cans on a pile of dirt while they could be doing something so much more refined and elegant?