|
1,577.....That's how many days it took for my laziness to come back and bite me in the butt. 1,577 days of living here in memphis before someone broke into my truck. And man, did it hit me hard where it really hurts. Let me back up to last sunday night. My christmas vacation was over and I was heading home from Jackson, TN where my mom's family had dinner and our christmas celebration at my uncle and aunt's house. My truck was packed full of bags of clothes, backpack, hunting coat, chest waders, shotgun and my bag I use to keep my shotgun shells, duck calls, flashlight, gloves, etc. Well when I got back to memphis I was so tired I just decided to take in my clothes and anything I would need for the next day. Well monday I go to the office, to wal mart, to the verizon store to fix my cell phone, to the mall, back to wal mart, then before I know it it's time to go to work at Bass Pro Shops. So I leave my gun and hunting stuff in the truck. Tuesday goes by.....I go to the office....go to a meeting....to the mall again...then to trivia. Again, I leave the hunting stuff in my truck. Wednesday......I work from home. I go to lunch down the road. All the while thinking, "ok I really should bring this stuff inside today and put it in my closet." Well I get caught up doing laundry, I fall sleep hoping to get some rest and get over this cold I have. I'm running late and I rush to work and yup, the gun and hunting stuff are still in the front seat.
As I came around the front of my truck tonight after work I saw some paper and trash on the ground and automatically thought "Oh great, it must have fell out when I opened the door this afternoo............uhhhhhhhh...F**K NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!
I saw the glass on the ground and suddenly my stomach turned. I felt like throwing up. I dropped down to my knees and stared at the ground for a minute. I knew what would be missing. My gun was gone. My hunting coat was gone. And my shell bag was gone. I let out a few deep sighs while I hung my head low and listened to my conscience preach to me how stupid I am. The gun can be replaced. The shotgun shells can be replaced. The shellbag, gloves, and flashlight can be replaced. The duck and goose calls can be replaced. But my duck and goose bands cannot be replaced. Duck bands are small pieces of aluminum that are placed around a duck or goose's leg. Each band has a unique serial number on it biologists use to track their migratory movements. =http://jclarksalyer.fws.gov/b...;h=261&w=372&sz=3 8&tbnid=58NectrvKocJ: &tbnh=82&tbnw=116 &start=33&prev=/i mages%3Fq%3Dduck%2Bband%2 6start%3D20%26hl%3Den%26l r%3D%26safe%3Doff%26sa%3D N"://jclarksalyer.fws.gov/Band.gif&imgrefurl=http://jclarksalyer.fws.gov/b...;h=261&w=372&sz=3 8&tbnid=58NectrvKocJ: &tbnh=82&tbnw=116 &start=33&prev=/i mages%3Fq%3Dduck%2Bband%2 6start%3D20%26hl%3Den%26l r%3D%26safe%3Doff%26sa%3D N
Bands, to a waterfowl hunter, are special possessions since it is rare to get one. They hold great sentimental value also. Hunters will wear them on their lanyards that hold their calls around their neck. I had about a dozen bands. Every one had a story behind it. There are 2 bands in particular I was very proud of. One I got while on a wood duck hunt in september of....91 i think. I took that bird on the mud flats of the creek behind the house back home. The next one came from a wood duck 35 miles northwest of home. I got it out of the field where we usually hunt, the pictures I posted earlier. The numbers on both those bands were only 19 apart! What's more unique was that I was there on the refuge back home the day both of those birds were banded and I possibly could have even held them while they were banded! The 2nd band was taken on the 29th of december that year. A year later I killed another banded duck on the same day, the same hour.......december 29th.....guess what today was...the 29th. All those bands were very important to me and I even gave my very first one away to someone I onced dated. They're irreplaceable. The only thing I can hope for is whoever the guy was that stole my gun is stupid enough to sell my gun to a pawn shop and they can run the serial numbers and the cops can find him.
As I swept out all the broken glass from my seat and floorboard I had time to reflect on my stupidity. The loss prevention guys even warned us at a store meeting just 3 months ago about leaving valuable possessions in our vehicles. Yeh, procrastination got me this time. 1,577 days. I can't believe I've left the same spare tire in the back of my truck that long and no one has lifted it just becuase it was out in the open. I'm sick. Good thing this year is almost over.
|
woah! anna nicole smith got a little carried away with the whole dieting thing!
I can't see the rest of the guy but I bet he's begging for his life.
sheesh.....nice armpits!
hey bigfoot...you hairy stud, you......*wink* why don't you come over and massage my quads and kiss my pects!
used to star in their holiday commercials as his alter-ego "Ernest P. Worrell" who would always be talking to his buddy "Vern".
look very close, it was hard to find a good pic of him.