Hypocrisy at Table

Although I've owned and used guns for about 8 years now, I haven't killed anything. No problem there, I suppose. The problem is that I've been eating animals most of my life, and I've yet to kill anything I've eaten, or that anybody else has either. That might not bother some folks, but it's starting to bother me quite a bit.

I did go hunting once when I first started shooting. Was a bad season for doves, and I didn't shoot my gun. It amazed me how much there is to think about when you see a bird flying toward you and you have to decide quickly if it's a dove. One guy on that hunting trip did a passable redneck impersonation in response to my comment on the identification problem: "If it flies, it dies." Yup. That's how I bagged my first Bald Eagle. Har har.

I'm afraid that when I eventually do go hunting, I might not get past the logic of my eating habits, and will end up a quivering wreck on the ground as smoke pours from my shotgun barrel and I see my victim flopping around over yonder. My basis for that is the one time I did kill something. I was a moronic boy with a BB pistol, tired of shooting targets in my bedroom. After recovering from a point-blank shot at my sneaker-clad foot to see if it would hurt (it hurt really bad), I noticed there was a bird up high in a tree about 40 feet away. Without thinking of what would happen if I actually hit the bird, I took a shot. I guess that's what being a kid is all about.

Surprisingly, since I was a terrible shot, and since the BB pistol had very little power, I did lob that BB right up into that poor bird. It fluttered to the ground, and I ran toward it in disbelief, figuring I could help it get back up. About the same time, the eldest family cat swooped in and claimed that bird. I chased after it from the front yard to the back, but little bird was a goner. I went back to the front steps, put down my BB pistol, and started to cry. I had killed a bird for no reason other than stupidity, and there was no undoing it. That lesson of no undoing stuck with me when I later made the transition to real guns.

Outside of some video work I did in the 80s, following turkey hunters around, that's about 100% of my hunting experience: Shoot, Kill, and Cry. Oh, but I can belly up to a big steak with the best of them. And that's what's starting to bother me so much I'm going to do something about it. I've spent my entire life hiring people to kill food I'm going to eat, but I don't even know if it's something I can do myself. Pretty sick to admit that at age 40.

I don't truly know how I feel about killing animals. There are plenty of arguments, but none that I've heard which convince me it's as right as Ted Nugent makes it sound. Speaking of Ted Nugent, I never liked the hunters who seem to enjoy killing just for killing's sake, and I've associated with enough of them in the gun world. I turned down a big video job once because it was for a trophy hunt; nobody was going to eat the bear meat. Didn't have any trouble with taping hunts for food though, as long as somebody else was pulling the trigger.

What will happen if I kill an animal and it makes me sick again? Will I be strong enough to stop eating meat?

Well, I'm not going to worry about it. The question answers itself when I stop thinking so hard. I'm going to be eating meat until I die, and since I can't think of a convincing argument either way, I'll align myself with the "survival of the fittest" crowd, book my first real hunting trip, and make sure that I kill animals with respect, honoring their lives with the efficient and complete use of their flesh. I have no choice but to do it. I'm not savoring the feelings it will invoke though. Maybe there's a positive vibe from the honesty involved that will make it seem like a good experience.

Maybe it will be just one more burden. Can't be any worse than being a hypocrite though.

October 11, 2003

Charley Hardman (send him mail) was born in Washington DC.

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