DEALING WITH THE DOLDRUMS

Doldrum, or the doldrums, is an old mariner's term for a lack of wind.  When a ship with sails hit the doldrums, it stood still, drifted, became pretty much stationary for a while  Certain areas of the Atlantic near the equator are famous for the doldrums, but weather conditions there aren't always the same. Trade winds come along and speed things up from time to time, and there are also occasional storms such as squalls and hurricanes.  Most folks think of doldrums as depression, or perhaps even a lazy streak where nothing much gets done.  Yeah, folks, sometimes the wind goes out of our sails too.

I don't know what old time sailors did when the doldrums had them drifting at sea.  I can only guess that perhaps they drank some rum and played games, or maybe when that got old, they got cranky and fought among themselves.  It seems to me that inactive people caught up in any situation, whether it be at sea or just the grind of everyday life, will eventually turn on each other.  At first, they will perhaps turn to someone else, but if the doldrums persist, an ugly situation sure might develop.  How does one avoid this?  How can we deal with the doldrums, the boredom, the idleness?  I don't have exact answers to those questions, but I know one thing for certain:  You can't give in to the doldrums.

Once again, I don't know for sure what sailors did during a session of doldrums, but it's a fairly safe bet that the captain of the ship did his best to keep them occupied doing things that couldn't be done when a good breeze was blowing.  A moving ship has to be attended to, guided in the right direction.  That's where the sailor can apply his skills as a seaman, but when the doldrums set in and time weighs heavy on their hands, staying occupied takes other skills.  This is the time we mend sails, plug leaks, swab the deck, things like that.

So, the boss calls me in and says the company has experienced a temporary setback.  He says that layoffs are in order until they can get things straightened out, but when more contracts come in and the work picks up, I'll be called back to work.  He says that might last several months, and that I'm high on the list of those who'll be called back when there's work to be done.  So, what am I supposed to do in the meantime?  Do I go out and find a temporary job?  Do I catch up on things around the house that should've been done a long time ago?  Or do I just sit home, let the doldrums get me down, and wait.  Yeah, wait.  Life is often about waiting, even if you're busy.  You don't have to be completely inactive to be in the doldrums.  Perhaps I should think seriously about finding something else to do, like perhaps another job that won't lay me off from time to time.  I need to consider whether or not I've been moving up in the company, or if I'm stuck in a rut, going nowhere.  Lots of people are in that shape.  They don't see it as being in the doldrums, but it is . . . in its own weird sort of way.

This idea for a blog came to me when I came to the conclusion that I'm in the doldrums, and I've got plenty to do.  As a matter of fact, I've got more to do than I can take care of . . . lots of things that need to be done.  And I'm doing them, trying my best to stay on a schedule.  The thing is, though - I'm not doing what I should be doing.  I'm not writing these days, and that's what I'm supposed to be - a writer.  Call it writer's block, if you like, but I'm not really blocked.  I've just been in the doldrums, no wind in my sails, which means I ran out of motivation.  Lazy, that's a good word for it.  But while the muse is silent, no wind to wake her, I'll just drift a while . . . and think . . . and thinking is where writing starts.

HUNTING WILD ANIMALS IS NOT A SPORT

We need to redefine hunting, but I can't come up with a better term for it.  Hunting actually implies that the sportsman actually pit his skills as a hunter against the instincts of a wild animal, but that isn't what usually happens when a man takes a rifle in hand and goes into the animal's world.  It takes some skill to learn to use the rifle, to shoot well, and it likewise takes skill to learn to hunt.  To do so means the hunter needs to study what he hunts.  Too often, though, the so-called hunter rides in a jeep or other all terrain vehicle in search of the animal, and in the company of a guide who's an expert at finding the game.  Here in Texas, we have game ranches, which means the hunter doesn't hunt at all.  He's directed to where a fenced in animal can be found, and then he "harvests" it.  In my opinion, that's chickenshit, a violation of every rule of sportsmanship a good hunter abides by.  In other words, the hunted animals should have a sporting chance to avoid being killed.  If it doesn't, we can rename the so-called sport of hunting and call it killing.  I guess that's just a crude term for "harvesting."

Even if the hunter does it right, actually goes into the wild and pits his skills agains those of the hunted, it's not a fair match.  The deer, if that's the hunted animal, doesn't have a gun and can't shoot back.  Some animals manage to avoid being killed in this uneven match, but that all depends upon the skill of the hunter.  Fortunately for the wild animals, most hunters aren't good at what they do, and that's why they resort to game ranches where they can harvest their prey.  Or they hire expensive guides who can find the animal for them.  Hunters, it seems, are always looking for ways to make their task easier and more convenient, and that takes almost all of the sport out of hunting.

I've been a hunter, and I've killed my share of wild game . . . and I say that with a lot of remorse.  I still own quite a few guns that now reside in hidden places, seldom ever see the light of day.  I haven't fired a bullet at a wild animal in many years now, but I was never a chickenshit hunter.  I've never killed a trapped animal, nor have I ever hired a guide, and I came home from many a hunt empty-handed.  Still, I got to the point where I considered even doing it the right way was the wrong thing.  Hunting isn't wrong for everyone, and that's a fact.  The health and security of some wild animals depends upon the hunter in some areas to keep down their population, and I know quite a few hunters who are very much concerned about conservation of natural resources . . . and that includes the game they hunt.  My distaste for hunting is aimed mostly at the lazy hunter, the cowardly "harvester" of trapped animals, the hunter who goes after animals there's no earthly reason to kill.

What prompted this short blog was a picture I saw of a hunter kneeling beside a jaguar he'd killed.  Yeah, a beautiful cat that is almost extinct in this country, and some asshole shot it.  For what purpose?  Because he's a moron with a gun, or did he want the beautiful hide?  Doesn't matter.  He's still a first

class jerk, and I hope he rots in hell for it.  And as Forest Gump would say, "That's all I've got to say about that."