“America’s Funniest Home Videos” shares real life bloopers and hilarious antics that happen to all of us at some point in our lives. Whether it’s turmoil with decorating the Christmas tree, walking the dog, or testing our “skills” on the trampoline, we never know what may be captured when the camera is rolling. Professional sports bloopers are always a hit with home viewers when the squirrel takes to center field, or some mascot takes one for the home team on the chin. Hysterical moments that are caught off the cuff, make for a lifetime of memories that will live in infamy and bring years of laughter to our hearts and souls.
These funny occurrences are not just limited to the sports arena, birthday parties, and school plays. They also have their place in the outdoor world. A recent blooper of my own was the stimulus for this article and I thought you may enjoy my recollection of several “funnies” that I have experienced over the years on the lakes and in the woods. I would wager, after reading this, that some of your own bloopers will come to mind. If they do, and they stir a smile, then I have done my job. I hope you enjoy.
Way back in the day, I had a fetish for bass fishing at night on a full moon. My favorite lure was the jitterbug. The plop, plop of the wobbling lure created an irresistible temptation to prowling bass along the shorelines. It was almost scary when the rhythmic retrieve of the treble-hook laden creature was engulfed by a hungry largemouth. The explosion of spray and froth would shatter even the most experienced angler’s nerves. Though you may be expecting some funny happening while I was fishing, it was the end of the night trip that created such a cacophony of laughter, not for me, but for my dad. I will move straight to the punch line.
We didn’t have the luxury of owning one of those fancy bass rigs that could be loaded onto the trailer by just lining up the nose and driving the boat up to the winch. No, ours had to have a line hooked to the bow then hand cranked until it could be locked down. The problem with this procedure was there were only a couple of small wheels that the bottom ridge of the boat had to be perfectly aligned with to properly seat the skiff on the trailer. If you missed the small target, you had to push the boat back off and start over. Here’s where it got funny.
Somehow, I managed to lodge the boat in the middle of the trailer. This entailed me walking down the trailer to push the boat back out into open water and start the process again. I had a good grip on the line and used it for balance as I eased closer to the bow. Somewhere down the line I began to wobble. I would push the line out, then pull it back in trying to keep from plunging into the dark waters in the middle of the night. In the background I could hear my dad laughing, only adding to my dilemma. At some point I gave up the ghost and fell backwards into the depths of Ross Barnett. It all happened, at least to me, in slow motion. It wasn’t captured on camera, but I still vividly recall the now hilarious incident. To add insult to injury, when I finished securing the boat, my dad had the air conditioner on full blast in the Plymouth fury. A soaked to the bone body becomes quite chilly when the windows are fogged up from the frosty air. My dad laughed for years as he would routinely bring it back up.
It occurred to me, many of these mishaps occurred in the dark. Dad and I always wore a camouflage jumpsuit over our hunting clothes. Warm clothing was nothing like it is today, and these suits helped fight off the wind and cold in those Claiborne County swamps. We always carried a small bottle of cough syrup to stifle a tickling of the throat that may produce a loud cough. One morning, before dawn arrived, I felt a cough brewing. To ward it off, I reached into my jumpsuit pocket for the magical elixir that would hopefully keep me from alerting every whitetail in the woods of my presence. One big gulp, and I should be golden. I slowly removed the cap of the bottle and gave it a chug. The nasty banana taste still haunts me today as I spewed the milky concoction over my jumpsuit, my rifle and scope, and my boots. I had mistakenly picked up a bottle of the diarrhea medicine, Donnagel PG. I knew the instant I tasted it what it was, but it was too late. As daylight illuminated the woods, I used whatever I had to try and wipe the cake-like frozen residue from my scope. You can only imagine the laughter in camp when I told this tale.
On another occasion, I can once again blame the darkness on my misfortune. I was trying not to wake the household as I dressed for a morning duck hunt by the night light in the bathroom. This morning, for some unknown reason, I brushed my teeth before putting my contact lens in. My demise was realizing too late that instead of applying Crest to my toothbrush, I had mistakenly picked up the tube of Preparation H. Why couldn’t I have started brushing in the front first? Oh no, I reached for the back molars and gave myself a good dose of the thick paste that caused me to heave and gag until my eyes watered. To say the household came alive is an understatement. I think it took a bottle of water and mouthwash to get all that junk removed. I still made the duck hunt, but my calling was terrible. It took most of the day for my lips to return to normal size. Don’t you wish you could have seen this, firsthand? I bet you do!
I could go on and on about mishaps and misfortunes in the woods, and on the waters. Mishaps such as falling off the plank we had set across a ditch to make it to the duck blind. Everyone should know an iced-over 2 X 12 is as dangerous as wiping your behind with a broken fruit jar. There was the time I had to wear a number 2 coil-spring trap home. The trap really didn’t hurt all that bad, but the embarrassment of asking my mom and dad to help remove it was pretty rough. The Devil’s Horse that had to be removed from my forearm in the emergency room was quite comical for everyone but me. It didn’t take but a second to remove the hooks, but I had to stay for observation when I passed out from the novocaine injection. I still hate needles today. Everyone laughed when they wanted to weigh me, they said I was the biggest fish to ever come to the emergency room.
Do these stories cause you to reflect on funny misfortunes that have happened to you while hunting or fishing? I have tons of stories in my repertoire of classic tales. This winter, you should consider sharing some of your most memorable experiences with others as you sit around the campfire. In fact, I would also love to hear stories from others. I have enough of my own. Give me a call sometime, I would like the visit. Until next time, enjoy our woods and waters and remember, let’s leave it better than we found it.
