Yeah, so, I don’t mean to brag but I’m pretty sure my dad could beat up your dad.
This week, my dad killed a bear. Not with his bare hands, but still …
The Man was up at “the property” (which is what my family calls the 40 acres of land my parents own up north, about 30 miles outside of Platina). I think it’s deer season or something, so The Man was walking around with his bow and arrows, and doing whatever it is you do when you deer hunt when he saw a bear. And, more importantly, the bear saw him, and it charged at him.
Now, while a mere mortal man would shit his pants, The Man drew his bow and killed it.
I know, right? He killed a bear that was charging at him with a bow and arrow! The bear was 10 feet away from him!
Seriously, if a bear was charging at me, even if I was holding a weapon I would be one of those idiots that thinks they can out run it, or I would throw a picnic basket at it. Sometimes I think The Man and I should take a DNA test to see if he is actually my father, because we are very different people. We have two things in common: 1) We are loud when we are drunk; and 2) we have a really nasty sense of humor — both of which are more environmental than genetic.
So anyway, after The Man shot it, the bear ran off and died in a nearby canyon. Of course, I do not like the idea of killing animals. This hunting gene in my family … I do not possess it. But what I dislike even more is the idea of my dad being eaten by a bear! Did you ever see “Grizzly Man?” We like to pretend that bears are cute and friendly, but yeah, not so much. There’s a reason they are almost always the No. 1 threat on the Threatdown segment on “The Colbert Report.”