SHOCK and AWE

Originally Published the Week of Mar. 20, 2022 in Western Outdoor Publications

           My wife, Jill, and I have been on the road now for the better part of three months.  Every year, we drive all over the U.S. doing fishing and hunting expos drumming up business for our fishing operation in La Paz.

         We set up our booth and join many hundreds of other international outfitters, fishing guides, hunting guides, gear retailers, RV and boat sellers and others in the modern day version of the fur trapper rendezvous.  

         It’s definitely a “gathering of tribes.”  Over the course of 4 or 5 days, often tens of thousands of attendees fill the aisles.  It can be quite an event.

         As of today, we’ve been over a dozen states now.  A few more still to come.

         We’ve been through huge cities and the smallest of towns.  Towering skyscraper skylines to one-horse crossroads.  I believe we’ve already logged over 10,000 miles driving. (Not so fun watching gas prices blow up, but that’s another story!)

         In previous columns, I’ve documented the distressing amount of crime, vagrancy, squalor and trash we encountered in so many cities.  Especially along the west coast.

         Friends and other outfitters were victimized by burglaries and outright thefts of their vehicles, trailers and rigs.  One friend was carjacked at gun point by a guy running from a murder. 

         Our own rig was rendered undriveable by a break-in where the bad guys completely smashed not only our rear glass, but the whole liftgate. 

         We joke about the “Zombie Apocalypse,” but many a night none of us would leave our hotel/ motel rooms because of all the homeless folks wandering outside; sleeping in the bushes; panhandling; hustling; partying; defecating and more.

         Some of our most beautiful and favorite cities broken, ruined and abandoned except for the tattered, the homeless, the lawless, the disenfranchised of the streets.  It’s an urban landscape straight out’ve an “end of the world” sci-fi flick.

         After several weeks in these areas, it was more than disheartening and depressing.  I wasn’t alone in my assessment.

         Other outfitters, local residents and law enforcement friends echoed the same sentiments in these areas.

         There was a tacit resignation of spirit that THIS is what it’s come to.  THIS is where WE are.  THIS is how it will always be and only get worse. 

         And not a thing we can do about it.

         The whole country to hell-in-a-handbag.  

But wait…

         Then our show schedule took us inland.   Smaller shows AWAY from the big cities.  We passed through and spent more time in smaller cities and neighborhoods. 

         Back to the countryside.  Little pink houses.  Denny’s diners.  Swings and slides in town parks. Crossing guards at the elementary school.  There’s a banner about a pancake breakfast at the church. The VFW Hall has a bunch of pick-up trucks parked outside.

         Went into a grocery store in Central Oregon.  A 9-year-old boy held the door open for me and said, “after you, sir!”

Shock and awe.

         In little towns in Washington and Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico,  Colorado, Texas and Wyoming, we got “sir” and “ma’am” a lot.  And not just from kids.

         Adults you run into in the street in the normal course of a day or at our hotels addressed us similarly.  Just the way things are.   Courtesy and hospitality, that was rarely found in the big cities. 

         We had become so callous to common civility and comity that it seemed like people were going out of their way to be amiable.  But, it’s just the way people are in different spots of the country.  Or how they are brought up.

         I was brought up addressing others like that as well.  Just how I was taught.  However, when I use “sir” or “ma’am” I often get a quizzical look as if I was speaking Greek.  Some folks get offended as if I was calling them “old.”

         In these small towns and open spaces, I got a nod and smiles and friendly responses instead.

         At the shows themselves, it’s a different crowd for sure.

         At the start of the show before they let the crowds in, they play the Star Spangled Banner over the loudspeaker in these expo centers.  Everyone stops what they are doing and puts hand or hat over heart and faces the flag. 

         Many people sing out loud.  You can help smiling.  You stand up a little straighter.  I catch myself singing as well.  

         When the crowds come in..

         Again, I’m often addressed as “sir.”  After chatting with someone at our booth, it’s not uncommon for someone to thank me for taking the time to answer their questions. 

         Are you kidding me?

         I hear the word “please” a lot .

         The adults/ parents are much more blue collar.  Yes, there’s a lot of pick-up trucks and suburbans in the parking lot . A lot of baseball hats, blue jeans, camo vests and work, hiking or cowboy boots.  Men and women alike.

         Some look just like they just took off the gloves and came to the show from the ranch, farm or mechanic shop.  Moms look like they just grabbed the kids from school and are trying to get through the show before they gotta race home to cook dinner.

         In the meantime, a beer or Coke and a bag of popcorn will do, thank you very much.

         But in talking to adults and kids alike, they sound like they can fix cars and boats.  They can take out an elk at 500 yards AND carry it out on their backs.   They can run tractors and they tell you they can only come visit us in Mexico AFTER the crops come in but BEFORE hunting season starts.

         At one show on a Sunday, a family apologized to me for coming so late to the show.  Because they were at CHURCH!

         I felt like giving them all a high-five!

        At one show, I was next to a sporting goods outfitter. 

         The men, women AND kids knew how to handle guns and fishing gear and were as at adept and knowledgeable about fishing and hunting, camping and boating and off-roading as any expert. 

         It was refreshing.  It’s not hopeless.  It’s not as depressing as it seems. 

         It’s not a Normal Rockwell painting, by any stretch.  All places have their issues and problems.  I realize my view was only a tiny miniscule slice.

         But, all is not lost.  Faith renewed.

         Yes, Sir.  Yes, Ma’am. 

That’s my story!

Jonathan

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