If Varmint Hunters Planned Weddings Jim Mize
ing buddy give away his daughter in holy matrimony. Tears welled in his eyes, while I wondered if it was the emotion of the moment or thoughts of the bill. It takes a varmint hunter about
L
thirty seconds to conclude that wed- dings are designed by and for women. If left up to us, things would be different. Much different.
For starters, none of us would
waste money on a wedding planner. These people merely charge a lot of money for throwing a party. Most guys have been doing this all our lives, or at least, have been accused of it. Remember that life is a journey; what you really need is a guide. Preferably one who can call coyotes and has a couple of thou- sand acres of prime habitat.
Engagement announcements always run in the section of the paper guys never read. If it were up to us, our announcement would run on the sports page next to the hunting report or in the rifle section of the classified ads. And we’d mention in the announcement that there would be food and drinks at the reception. After that, there would be no need to send out invitations. But if you wanted to be a little formal, you might tack up a notice at the hunt club. Gift registries must seem like Christmas to the bride. To the groom, it only raises the question of why they didn’t sign up at the gun shop. After all, how many toasters does one couple need? Especially when you could get powder, reloading equipment, and a half gallon of mosquito repellant. You know, useful stuff.
So if varmint hunters organized
weddings, the shooter would sign up at Bob’s Barrels and Bullets for all the needs he or she might have once mar- ried. I’m thinking of His-and-Her Shoot- ing Rests, an extra spotting scope now there are two of you, and that Jackalope head you will need for the den. You might even let her pick out a few things, since at Bob’s you can hardly go wrong, even if she picks the stainless steel plates
Page 156 Spring 2013
ast Saturday, I sat in the back of a church watching a hunt-
as her China pattern.
Too many things at a wedding have only one use and then they are filed, stored, or forgotten. Take the mar- riage license. Buy one and it’s good for life. They should have a Sportsman’s Wedding License that includes mar- riage, hunting and fishing for life. You would have lots fewer single guys with a deal like that.
The bachelor’s party is the one
event that is already planned by guys. Still, if we controlled the rest of the wedding, we could make both fit a single theme. For starters, we’d kick off the evening with a round of skeet. Then, we would follow-up shooting silhouettes at 500 yards while the best man tries to shape a wedding band out of spent brass. As far as the bride’s party goes,
we would leave it alone. That’s mainly because we’ve always been afraid to ask what happens when you get that many women together in one room unsupervised.
The rehearsal dinner is another place we could contribute. To make sure all our buddies were comfortable, we’d book Country Bill’s Bluegrass and Barbecue for an all-you-can-eat buffet. Hors d’oeuvres, which none of us can pronounce or spell, would be replaced with peanuts in the shell. Of course, all empties, peanuts or otherwise, would end up on the floor as might a few of our buddies.
The wedding ceremony also
smacks of female planning. Everything is flowers and frill. If guys decorated the church, for instance, we’d spruce it up with something that could be re-used to brush out a blind.
Worse yet, wedding clothes are never worn twice. Imagine instead the bride and groom in matching 3-D camo. The only problem they might have is be- ing pelted with rice when they leave the church; some over-eager game warden might see them in camo and mistake this for baiting a dove field. The vows definitely were not writ-
ten by guys. Here’s what ours would sound like.
“I (repeat the name on your hunt-
ing license), take (check her license), to be my hunting partner, to have and to hold until the alarm goes off at about 3 a.m. on any opening day, for better or worse, which includes those days she shoots better than me, for richer or poorer or until the shells run out, to love and to cherish, from this day until – Heaven forbid – varmints are extinct. But in the event this deal goes South on us, I get the dog.” And of course, her vows would be
different also. “I (you know this one), take this
handsome devil to be my guide, from this day forward, to have and to hold even though he smells and has cold feet, for richer (like that will happen) or poorer (Vegas odds on that one), in sickness and in health, including any disease typical of outdoorsmen (large egos, buck fever, Lyme disease, and a disorder known as ‘all objects in this mirror are larger than they appear’), to love and to compliment his outdoor prowess from this day until Boone & Crockett build his memorial.” At this point, the couple would
exchange his and her Buck knives and be hitched. We would leave the mushy stuff for later.
After the ceremony, the couple would head to the reception in a Hum- mer towing a smoker with a pig slow- cooking over hickory chips. When it comes time to throw the bouquet, the groom would yell, “PULL!”, the bride would toss it and all the single chicks would shoot. Then the married couple would drive happily into the sunset, headed for a shooting resort in North Dakota.
Maybe it’s not a traditional wed- ding plan, but just the thought of it brings tears to my eyes. Probably would to the bride’s, too.
Jim Mize has collected the best of his
outdoor humor in an award-winning book titled, The Winter of Our Discount Tent. Copies are available for $18.95 plus shipping and handling by calling 1-800-768-2500.
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