Deer Season

As I am writing this today, it is my 47th birthday, and a lot of thoughts come to mind especially this time of year.  One of those is the fact that in my home state of West Virginia, hunting season is in full swing this time of year.  Unlike other parts of the country where vegetarianism is almost viewed as a cardinal virtue of "political correctness," back home deer season takes on its own festive dimension.  It is not uncommon for some kids to take off from school (or at least it didn't used to be) for the week to go out and "bag" a buck, and it was also a great time for relatives whom you may not have seen for over a year to visit and go out on their own adventure of "the hunt."   Of course, a big part of deer season was the meat!  It has been so many years now since I have had a good "mess" of deer steak, and even as I write this I reminisce about how good it was.

My earliest memories of "the hunt" center around my late step-grandfather, Alonzo Lipscomb.  "Lonnie," as everyone affectionately called him, was a skilled hunter despite the handicap of only having one arm (his left arm was amputated due to complications from an injury in a lumber mill many years ago).   However, back then my step-grandfather and grandmother didn't have a lot of money, so bagging the occasional deer was more a necessity at times than a sport.  It was at Lonnie's house at around the age of four that I had my first taste of deer steak, and I loved it ever since.  There are a few interrelated stories I will share in regard to that momentarily, but first, let's talk about Lonnie's hunts.

Although handicapped by the absence of a left hand, Lonnie proved skilled at shooting a rifle, and he had no problem bagging a deer, as well as field-dressing it, all by himself.  When he would get a deer, it created a festive atmosphere in the house too, as that meant meat for a while.  As he would often hunt in the early evening (he told me once that was when the deer fed, when the weather was cooler out and the sun was less intense), it would usually be after dark when he returned.  If he managed to have a successful hunt, his quarry was drug in, and the kitchen table was cleaned off, and the deer was placed on it for prepping.  Lonnie would then don a prosthetic hook, and with the skill of a surgeon he would begin to skin the carcass with a sharp pocket knife only.  This process could take up to an hour or more, depending on the size of the deer.  Once the carcass was skinned, it was portioned, and at this point the fun part of the night started.  One of the first cuts Lonnie would remove was what is called the "backstrap," a strip of lean, tender meat which was found along the upper back part of the deer.  After all the rest of the deer was carved up, packaged, and stored in the large upright freezer my grandmother kept on the porch, Lonnie would slice that backstrap, and then dredge it in flour seasoned very simply with just salt and pepper, and then he would fry it in Crisco in a large cast-iron skillet.  That was such a special treat that we often stayed up late just to eat some of it, and the batter bits that remained in the skillet (we called it "the crunch") were even consumed, as they were as delicious as the steaks themselves.  When you have little else you are able to enjoy in life, it is little stuff like this that makes life memorable.

Also at an early age, I recall Lonnie working for the local Department of Natural Resources office as a maintenance man or something at their station in the county seat of Romney, which was about 15 miles from where they lived.  Often, animal rescues would be taken on by the game wardens Lonnie worked with, and on one occasion a rescued young male fawn was brought in.  Lonnie agreed to foster the little creature, which we named Rosebud, and it wasn't long before the little guy integrated into the house.  At that time, I was about five years old, and of a morning I liked having a piece of toast for breakfast.  It was not uncommon for Rosebud to jump on my back and steal my toast either, which provided a lot of amusement for my family.  However, the oddest thing about little Rosebud was his favorite food - that crazy little buck loved deer steak!   I won't debate the moral stipulations as to whether or not he should have been even allowed to eat it, but it was definitely something different!

On another occasion, one of Lonnie's co-workers who was a local game warden named Roger got to be good friends with the family, and during deer season it was not uncommon for game wardens to confiscate deer carcasses from hunters who had exceeded their limits.  Fortunately - and a very good virtue of my home state of West Virginia - when a deer carcass was confiscated, the local game wardens had the discretion of donating it to a family in need.  In my step-grandfather's case, he and my grandmother were always struggling in those days;  they lived in a house with only water drawn from a well on the back porch, as well as having no indoor plumbing (the toilet was an outhouse), and all heat and even occasionally cooking was done on a wood stove.  Knowing well the fact that my step-grandfather was not exactly a Rockefeller, Roger the game warden was known to bring a confiscated deer carcass up to Lonnie's and give it to him.  On this particular occasion, Lonnie had been on a successful hunt, and he actually was working on a deer in the basement of the house when Roger drove up.  Roger offered Lonnie the deer, which he gladly accepted, and with the one he had shot himself he was able to have meat for most of the winter.  This type of thing may be frowned upon by some, but to those people I say that maybe they should be in my step-grandfather Lonnie's shoes, and then their tree-hugging utopianism would be rethought quickly!

It is at this point I want to address those people.  First off, although I believe veganism is highly illogical and the facts emerging as medical science makes advances suggests that a totally vegan diet may actually be dangerous, at the same time people like that are free to choose - if they want to gnaw on carrots instead of chicken wings, go for it.   The problem with such people though is that often they tend to try to impose themselves on others and don't want to extend that same courtesy.  Recently, a commercial for Domino's Pizza personified this well.  The gist of the commercial is concerning those types of people - vegan freaks - who want to dictate that others eat salads and they get their way selfishly despite the fact everyone else is miserable.  The actor playing the Domino's guy - who is great, by the way! - tells some rabbit-lady happily munching on a salad to "eat a pizza once in a while!"  At the end of the commercial, he is still taunting the same woman by yelling like a drill sergeant in a gruff voice, "Pizza's good!"  This has been one of my favorite commercials of the year, in part because 1) I hate salads, and 2) I love a good pizza (especially those cracker-thin crust pizzas Domino's has).  But, watching it made me think of how the PETA crowd (if you don't know who those idiots are, they are the extremely radical animal-rights nuts who want to execute people for eating KFC for dinner) tried to impose themselves on our society and culture.  I want to tell some of them "eat a pork chop once in a while!"  Many of these same veggie-nuts also have big issues with hunters too for the same reason - many of them think nothing about aborting a human child in the womb, but God forbid you shoot a buck and enjoy some venison steak.  They are frankly the type of people that need to be locked up in padded cells somewhere because psychosis (probably from using hallucinogenic drugs of some sort) has overtaken them.  I had a little discussion with some of these crazies today as a matter of fact on a social media post where many of them were whining about a picture of a hunter displaying a 47-point buck (impressive!) he bagged.  I had a lot of fun satirizing them and feigning grief over "slaughtering innocent tomatoes and cucumbers" in order to show how stupid they really looked, and of course that generated some hate - oh well, what can you do?  It was fun to razz these types though, because their irrationality is so insane that it is comical.  Do I really care if they eat "innocent" tomatoes and cukes?   Not really - they can eat what they want, as long as they mind their own business about what others like.  My point was to show them how dumb they are, and how this liberal - or, excuse the term "pansy-assed" - junk has done more harm than good for our society.  I think the Domino's commercial gets that same point across too, regardless of the intent of its creators - of course, Domino's is owned by a very solidly Catholic businessman, so I think he has insight to understand how crazy the veggie-lovers can get sometimes.  There is a word of wisdom I heard once in a movie somewhere, and it is this - if God didn't want us to eat animals, He wouldn't have made them out of meat.

"Pizza's GOOOOD!!"

Any rate, I got off on a rant and almost rabbit-trailed past the original intent of this article, which was about memories of deer season.  Although it has been some time since I have had a good "mess" of deer steak, I am encouraged when I see people like the Robertsons from Duck Dynasty promote the virtues of responsible hunting, and as all of them have said many times on the show and in their respective books, hunting is a gift from God, and it is utilizing our duty to "take dominion over the earth" and may even be beneficial and wise stewardship over God's creation.   After all, if it wasn't for controlled hunting, populations of animals could get out of hand and that could be potentially an issue.  Besides, if it is not wrong for a lion to ambush a gazelle on the savannahs of Africa for a similar reason, then why are the veggie-nuts attacking their fellow humans for doing exactly the same thing, only with a gun instead of fangs and claws?   Again, the logic of this stuff escapes me, but suffice to say, hunting is not evil, and neither is the consumption of meat.  So, if you like being carnivorous, enjoy. 

That all being said, for those of you who do hunt out there this time of year, please stay safe, and take the precautions to prevent yourself and others from being accidentally shot.  May God bless your hunts, and all I ask is that you keep me in mind as you partake of that delicious backstrap steak, or make venison jerky.  About that, venison jerky is my cousin Buzz's specialty - for years, he has made his the old-fashioned way by coating it in a highly-peppered "cure," and then air-drying it on a clothesline-like apparatus he has over his stove.  Whenever I visit my hometown of Parsons, WV, this time of year, I always look forward to some of Buzz's jerky; he gets a little impatient with it too, as he is eating it by cutting pieces off as it dries (who can blame him though - it is good stuff!).   As we have an anticipated move at the end of this year back up to the area, maybe in a year or two I can get into a little hunting myself and bag my own venison supply.  Until then, I will have to rely on the kind generosity of friends and relatives, or spend a fortune having it mail-ordered.   Happy hunting, and happy holidays, especially to all my family back home who may be undertaking their own hunts this year.