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Competitive
duck hunting
New form offers challenge
The problem with hunting, as a sport,
is that it's not competitive. A guy with a
shotgun squats in a swamp; an unarmed
duck with an IQ of maybe four flies
overhead; the guy blasts the duck into
individual duck molecules. Where is the
challenge here? Where is the CONTEST?
Fortunately, I have a solution. It came
to me as I was reading the fall 1994 issue
of Global Gas Turbine News, which was
sent in by alert reader Joe Born. On the
off-chance that you don't subscribe, I
should explain that Global Gas Turbine
News is a publication written by, and for,
Martians. At least that's the impression
you get from reading it. Here's an actual
quote from a letter to the editor:
"Research to determine optimum blade
loading, including optimum backward
curvature of blades at outlet, effectiveness
of separate inducers, placement of splitter
vanes, and diffuser design should now be
considered.,,
Sounds good to me! I say we show our
support for this cause by holding a mass
rally and chanting catchy slogans ("WHAT
DO WE WANT??" "RESEARCH TO
DETERMINE OPTIMUM BLADE
LOADING, INCLUDING ...").
Anyway, the big article in the fall issue
is headlined, "Bird Ingestion Into Aeco-
Engines." The article concerns efforts by
engineers to deal with the problem of birds
getting sucked into jet airplane engines
during takeoff and flight; this can damage
the engine, and even make the plane crash.
Also it is no picnic for the bird.
So according to the article, engineers are
always trying to develop more-bird
resistant jet engines. To test these
engines, they have developed -here's the
good part - A GUN THAT SHOOTS
DUCKS. When I say "a gun that shoots
ducks," I don't mean "a gun that shoot AT
ducks." I mean "a gun that you load an
actual duck into and shoot it out the end,
like a big feathered bullet." Engineers use
the gun to shoot ducks at test aircraft
engines so they (the engineers) can see
what happens.
(NOTE TO ANIMAL LOVERS: The
article states that, before being shot, these
ducks are "humanely killed." The article
does not state whether this procedure
involves feeding them airline cuisine.)
No doubt you've already figured out
where I'm going with this. I'm thinking:
Let's take some of these duck-shooting
guns, and let's camouflage them, and let's
hide them in areas known to be infested by
duck-hunters, and let's install some kind
of sonar-guided, computerized aiming
system on them, so that when a sensor
detects a shotgun blast, it immediately
fires a high-velocity duck at the source
Think how much more EXCITING the
sport of duck-hunting would be if the
hunter knew that, every time he fired his
gun, he would immediately have to dive
headfirst into the swamp muck, or else run
the risk of getting hit by a deceased
mallard traveling at upward of 170 miles
per hour.
At this point, you probably have a
couple of questions, namely:
Q. Would such a program be safe?
A. Naturally, before we started
shooting ducks at actual human beings,
we would conduct safety tests in which we
would fire a wide variety of waterfowl at
humanely selected scientists from the
Tobacco Institute.
Q. Would this program pose a National
Security threat to the president of the
United States, who sometimes
demonstrates his personal masculinity by
shooting birds?
A. This would not be a problem,
because the president is protected by Secret
Service agents chosen specifically on the
basis of their willingness to, in the line of
duty, step in front of a duck.
Q. What about deer hunters? Can we
use the same technology to make their
sport more exciting?
A. Tragically, at this time we do not
have a gun capable of accurately ruing an
animal the size of a deer, although I would
strongly support a project to develop one,
using, as test ammunition, humanely
sedated Tobacco Institute scientists.
But until we perfect a deer gun, we can
go with an interim solution suggested by
a Jan. 12 article in the central
Pennsylvania Centre Daily Times, written
by Jerilynn Schumacher and sent in by
alert reader Paul Dietzel. This article
concerns efforts by the Pennsylvania
Army National Guard to help a group of
endangered animals called "fishers," which
are described as "house-cat-sized members
of the weasel family" (I am not making
any of this up). The article states that, to
feed some fishers in a remote area,
"Guardsmen dropped 17 frozen, mad-killed
deer and 100 pounds of dead, smelly fish
from a Chinook helicopter as it flew 50 to
150 feet above the ground."
I can think of few events that would add
more "zing" to a hunting expedition than
the possibility of being squashed like a
plump gun-toting grape by the frozen
carcass of a mature, fish-encrusted deer (or,
if there are any left over, a Tobacco
Institute scientist).
If you're as excited as I am about using
the National Guard for this purpose next
deer season, I urge you to write a letter to
this nation's supreme military
commander, "Newt" Gingrich. If,
however, you are in any way offended by
any of the proposals I have made in this
column, please let me know, because I
CARE WHAT YOU THINK. So send
your letters of complaint directly to me,
Patrick Buchanan, clo Editor, Global Gas
Turbine News, 2038 George Jetson Way,
Mars. Or, for a faster response, just lean
out your window and shoot. Then duck.
by Dave Barry
Syndicated Columnist
Op/Ed
Spring break
experience
I realize that you were expecting
some cute anecdote from one of the
columnists this week, but bear with
me. This is my time to vent all my
frustrations out, especially after the
spring break I had.
How do insurance companies do
what they do? Why do insurance
companies do what they do? I've
been asking myself that since March
6. The reason I want to know is that
I feel like I have done something
terribly wrong and am being
punished for it.
OK, I understand you have no clue
what I'm talking about, so allow me
to explain.
Coming back from a day at the
beach with my two cousins and their
friend at 2:45 p.m. on Monday the
6, I was in a car accident. Not just
any car accident - a car accident in
Merritt Island, Florida (1100 miles
from home). A truck came across
two lanes of traffic and nailed my
car on the driver's side front panel
(the part next to the engine for any
car illiterates out there).
My first concern was that the kids
were OK, then I looked at my car.
Taking in the damage, I could not
believe this had happened. I didn't
even think of the possibility of the
car being totalled at this point.
The accident took place in front of
a used car lot. I'm shocked that
they did not try to sell me a car -
though they were nice enough to call
the police.
I found out, after taking in all the
damage and estimating to myself
what the cost of the repair would be,
that the driver of the truck that hit
me threw an open beer out of the
passenger window while he was
leaving the scene. Open containers
and drinking while driving are both
very illegal in Florida.
Immediately, I called my Aunt
Debbie, who I was staying with, to
tell her about the accident. Then I
tried to call home and inform my
mother. While I was waiting for the
police to arrive, the driver and his
truck came back to the scene.
At that moment I wanted to grab
hold of him and knock the living
crap out of him for doing this to me.
However, being the good role model
I am, I didn't - I had two 13-year-
olds and a nine-year -old with me.
(Remain calm, Lori Anna, is what
kept going through my mind.)
Well my aunt called my uncle, who
worked just across the Indian River
in Cocoa, and he came over to the
accident site right away. Once he
got there, I made the call to the
insurance company. I explained to
them that I was in an accident, my
car was undriveable, and that I was
1100 miles from home. They
kindly took my information, and
said they would see what they could
do.
Finally the police officer arrived at
3:30 p.m. (45 minutes after the
accident) and took the driver of the
truck's statement He never asked
me anything except for my
information. After he accessed the
smash
Thursday, March 23, 1995
ing
scene, he took us both over to his car
and wrote up the accident report. He
made it clear that he believed the
driver of the GMC truck was at fault
and issued him a traffic citation, after
giving him a sobriety test.
My car was towed away (by a pink
tow truck with "Happy Hooker" on
the hook), and was later informed by
the insurance company that they had
totalled it.
My question to them: How am
you planning on getting me home
by Sunday night?
Their answer. They did not have
one. I found out that my car did not
have rental insurance.
So, there I was, in Florida, with
only $3OO, no car, and I need to get
home.
I called my insurance agent at
home, and he said he had never
heard of anything like this.
Then I started to think. I could fly
home and have everything in my car
shipped home. A plane ticket from
Orlando to Erie on March 8 was
priced at $395. Great - $95 more
than I had, plus what it would have
cost me to ship everything I couldn't
take on the plane,,with me.
Or I could haveniy mother tome
get me at her own expense. My aunt
had already offered to drive me
home.
The next possibility was to rent a
car and deal with the bill myself.
Well, National Car Rental got me a
deal for $74 per day, unlimited
mileage, to Erie.
So, then I had to call Visa to get an
emergency credit raise. I only
wanted enough to cover the cost of
the car rental. I got "I'm sorry
your request has been denied. We
have sent a letter in the mail
explaining why." Then they hung
up.
I called back and asked to talk to
someone in charge. I told them what
had just happened and the situation I
was in. He said: "Miss, I cannot in
good conscience five you a credit
raise under any circumstance."
Since then I have cut up my
Citibank Visa card and sent it back
with a nice letter telling them what I
think they can do with their policies.
The insurance company is taking
care of my car; I should get the
value of the car, before the
to cover my car loan.
My question is "What the hell do I
do with a $2OO car rental bill and im
$B5 towing bill." I did not plan on
this kind of expense.
The accident was not my fault, and
in the end I feel like I have done
something wrong.
So remember, if you are ever 1100
miles from home, take an extra car
in case some beer-drinking,
accident-scene leaving (then
returning), butthe.ad from Georgia
decides to turn your car into a scrap
pile. Also don't count on Citibank
Visa for any help either.
by Lori Anna Dyer
Entertianment Editor