My Life As Molded By The Eastern Sports And Outdoors Show

An odd thing about me is that even though I spend most of my time indoors, usually in front of an electrical device of some kind, I really do enjoy the outdoors. Though, to be honest, sometimes I like the idea of the outdoors more than I like the allergies, sunburn, and fat kid-like sweating that comes along with actually going outdoors. I think that's why I get such a kick out of going with my dad to the Eastern Sports and Outdoors show. I get to enjoy the outdoors without actually being outdoors. God, it's kind of sad when I think of it like that.

Anyway, this event is probably every bit the hillbilly extravaganza that you're picturing right now. Basically, hunting and fishing outfitters from all over the world get together to advertise their wares, drawing the creme de la creme that central Pennsylvania has to offer. One gentleman that I spotted wandering around the event, for example, looked like the love child of Ned Beatty's character in Deliverance and the guy who raped Ned Beatty's character in Deliverance.

But even though I was likely one of the few people in the building that day who actually believes Obama is an American citizen, somehow I feel at home when I'm at the outdoors show. And looking back, I think it's because a lot of my childhood can be linked there in some way. My dad is an avid fisherman, so every year when I was a kid I remember getting dragged out to this thing and waiting impatiently while he would drool over the fishing equipment and trips to Alaska that he'd never be able to afford. I, meanwhile, would bitch and moan until he would take me to one of the knife vendors, so that I could talk him into buying me a really cool knife that I would stick in a drawer and never look at again.

This year, though, I realized that I've had some pretty wild adventures because of the outfitters at the outdoors show. It's even got me waxing nostalgic to the point where I'd like to spin you a few yarns. I was going to spit them out in one sitting, but I realized that would be one of those really long posts that seems like a good idea at the time, but that drags on so long you actually start resenting the writer for not knowing how to get to the damn point.

Therefore, I'm going to split them up into three separate stories. Now, I'd like to say I'm going to break out these stories over the next three days, but this is me talking here. So let's be realistic and say that over the course of the week I'll rehash some of the goofy shit that Dad and I have gotten into while in the great outdoors.

Until then, I can't in good conscience talk about things involving the outdoors without giving a nod to The Great Outdoors.