“Hold on here, I’ve got it somewhere,” I said to a friend as I shuffled through a stack of newspapers on my cluttered desk looking for a photo of the state record muskie caught eight years ago from Cave Run Lake.
As I continued my unsuccessful search, my friend pulled out his iPhone, typed in a few words, punched a button, and – presto! – held up the phone screen showing a copy of the very photo I was looking for!
I’ll have to admit that was handy. But I remain one of the few people in the U.S. of A. who does not own an iPhone.
I never intend to own one. The little flip-lid TracFone suits my purposes, and without a $100 a month payment.
I enjoy watching people on a crowded sidewalk, each either holding a phone to his or her ear or looking at something on the screen (are they typing?), bumping into each other or light posts.
Sometimes I think they’re talking to me, but when I ask, “How’s that again?” all I get is an annoyed look.
I may be one of the few in the whole world who does not own one of these communication/entertainment devices.
A recent AP story told of the Chief of one of those little head-hunter tribes in Borneo, with a member of an enemy tribe tied in a pot of boiling water over a wood fire, doing a search on his iPhone for a recipe for Homo sapiens roast.
I made that up. Fake news, they call it.
THE GREAT OUTDOORS
Not much going on in outdoor news here in late January, save for a report of the wild white-tailed deer harvests in Ohio and Kentucky.
And a joke that hopefully will bring a laugh to your day.
FIVE LITTLE PIGS
A farmer had five female pigs. Times were hard, so he decided to take them to the county fair and sell them. At the fair, he met another farmer who owned five male pigs. After talking a bit, they decided to mate the pigs and split everything 50/50.
The farmers lived sixty miles apart. So they agreed to drive thirty miles each, and find a field in which to let the pigs mate.
The first morning, the farmer with the female pigs got up at 5 A.M., loaded the pigs into the family station wagon, which was the only vehicle he had, and drove the thirty miles to meet the other pig owner.
While the pigs were mating, he asked the other farmer,
“How will I know if they are pregnant?” The other farmer replied, “If they’re lying in the grass in the morning, they’re pregnant. If they’re in the mud, they’re not.”
The next morning the pigs were rolling in the mud. So he hosed them off, called the other farmer, loaded them into the family station wagon and proceeded to try again.
This continued each morning for more than a week.
Finally it wore him out. The next morning he was too tired to get out of bed. He called to his wife, “Honey, please look outside and tell me whether the pigs are in the mud or in the grass.”
“Neither,” yelled his wife, “they’re in the station wagon and one of them is honking the horn.”
The Ohio harvest for 2016-17’s deer seasons was down from the year before with the exception of muzzleloader season.
The muzzleloader season, held this past Jan. 7-10, saw the kill at 15,843, up 25 percent from the January 2016 muzzleloader season.
On Nov. 28, opening day of Ohio’s gun season for deer, hunters killed 18,726 whitetails, which was down 15.6 percent from 2015’s opening day.
The total for the week of gun season, Nov. 28-Dec. 4, was 66,759, down 9 percent from 2015.
During the additional two-day gun season held Dec. 17-18, the harvest was 9,228, down 2.3 percent from 2015.
The Youth Season, held Nov. 21, saw young hunters take 5,930 deer, down 17.9 percent from the 2015 one-day season.
The kill for the archery season was no yet available. It opened way back on Sept 24 and will run through Feb. 4.
The figures were according to totals reported on the web site of the Ohio Division of Natural Resources Department of Fish and Wildlife.
The kill for all seasons for 2015-16 was 188,325, up 7.6 percent from the previous season.
In Kentucky, where the last season – archery —- closed this past Monday, the final kill for all seasons totaled 139,428, with 104,213 of those taken during modern gun season.
Reach G. SAM PIATT at firstname.lastname@example.org or (606) 932-3619.