What Cheeses Me Off about TV Hunting Shows

To be perfectly honest, just about everything cheeses me off these days, so why should television hunting shows be different? Also, I’ve seen very few of them; the ones I do watch are in lodges in places where I’m hunting, and everyone else is watching, and if I suggested PBS or the Oprah Network I would be gutted and hung out on the meat pole.

First, they give the impression that all big game hunts take place in 45 minutes, and that they always end successfully. This, as all of you know, is a load, but there are apparently a lot of people who are just getting into the sport who buy into it. Or at least I’m so informed by outraged guides whose jobs are made all that much harder by “hunters” who can hardly wait to knock something down the first morning and get back to someplace that’s within cell range.

Second is the sh**ty country music that is grafted onto these productions. What constitutes sh**ty country music? Anything that post-dates Faron Young and Marty Robbins or is sung by a young woman who is prettier than Ms. Elisha Cuthbert (seen here).

Third, and most important: Invariably, when someone kills something, there follow high-fives, hog calls, whoops of joy, and general all-around merriment.

To the hunter, I say: All you did, numbnuts, was pull the trigger. Without your guide, you’d be sitting in the blind scratching yourself. Why are you acting like a hero? Also, you’ve just taken the life of something that wanted to live as much as you do. Congratulations are in order, maybe, but show a little respect. Other cultures manage it; I’ve seen them.

Aside from that, hunting shows are fine. I can watch them and nod right off in the chair, and dream about a time when girl country singers were plain-looking women who could actually sing, and who knew something about life.