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| Can't sleep? Well, let me tell you about the time... |
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| The best cure for insomnia is good story digression at hunting camp |
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 | | RON RAASCH | | Can't sleep? Well, let me tell you about the time... |
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By Scott Staats
I'm looking forward to this fall's hunting season. My camp is already picked out and I have some new gear to help with the hunt. Speaking of gear, I met an old friend of mine the other day in the sporting goods section of a store and we started talking about our last fishing trip together when we got rained on. Anyway, we began fishing together way back in the second grade. I remember we had this old codger of a teacher named Mr. Schultz and he always kept an eye on us. Now, where was I? Oh yeah, this year's elk hunt.
What you just witnessed is the art of story digression. Everybody knows a story digressor. It could be an uncle, a hunting buddy or perhaps even you. You can spot, or hear, a story digressor a mile away. The most common phrases spoken during the digression are: "anyway"; "now, where was I?"; "that reminds me"; "but I digress"; or, after 10 minutes into a story, they'll say "I lost my train of thought."
Even though story digressors can be a pain in the assemblage of gathered people, they can also be very beneficial at times. They can be more powerful than a pharmaceutical, able to knock out full-grown hunters with a single run-on sentence. And their side effects are mild.
Take for example around the campfire at hunting camp. You're tired after a long day's hunt and want to hit the sack but feel too embarrassed to head for the tent at 7:15 at night.
Suddenly, the digressor speaks up, "Hey, did I ever tell you about the time when." You smile and sit back comfortably, waiting for the inevitable sleep to arrive.
".I was on an elk hunt up in Montana and ran into that big grizzly bear? Well, that old griz was about to charge so I raised the trusty old Savage rifle to my shoulder. I've had that old gun since I was just a kid. Why, my grandpap and I would go out after deer when I was 11 or 12 years old. In those days, we'd just grab a candy bar, either a Milky Way or Snickers, and head out for the day. We didn't have no fancy huntin' gear like they have nowadays, like GPS's or rangefinders. Matter of fact we didn't even have riflescopes; we just sighted down the gun and pulled the trigger. We didn't have the money for all this new stuff. Heck, I used to walk along the railroad tracks picking up coal for the family stove. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, that griz. Well, I sighted through my new Weaver scope and put the bead on that bear."
At this point the digressor looks up to the sound of snoring and finds the others sound asleep. If given the time, and if the listeners have a bottle of No-Doz handy, the digressor will often go back to when he was a toddler. Professional digressors have been known to go back into previous lives.
If I'm at home and a digressor calls, I've learned to employ a useful technique. I simply lay the phone down and continue with my work or even run to town and get some errands done. Or I'll just pick the phone up every 15 minutes and say "wow" or "really" then set it back down. I've been known to say these words into a cassette recorder then just press the ON button every 15 minutes. I'm even considering hiring an answering service that can handle digressor calls.
The art of digression doesn't come naturally; it's well practiced and takes years of constipation to attain. Digressors very seldom ever finish the original story they began telling. Maybe these people didn't get enough attention when they were younger and now use this technique to remain the center of attention. Whatever the reason, long, drawn-out storytellers make me uneasy.
And it wouldn't be so bad but most of the stories seem as slow and uninteresting as an OJ freeway chase or a state of the union address and as believable as reasons for going into Iraq. Digressors go into digressions of epoch proportions -- and I mean the ones that seem to last as long as geologic epochs.
I believe most hunters and anglers need to bring along a video camera to record events in the field to separate truth from lies. Maybe hidden cameras would work better. After an hour into most stories, the digressor will pause, gather up his sparse thoughts and say, "Anyway, to make a long story short." Then he'll go on another hour before ever making a point. I often suffer relapses of mental turmoil just recalling tales from last year's hunting camp. I recall one year when three of us were out at elk camp sitting around the fire talking about the day's hunt. We were pretty tired after hiking all day across canyons and up and down mountains. My feet were a bit sore from my new hunting boots. I got that pair of boots from one of those new hunting catalogs. I usually go to a store to try them on to make sure they fit but I'd been so busy working around the house and then family came to visit. It always seems that family comes to visit when you're the busiest. Well, we had a good time though. We went to the coast and did some hiking in the mountains. We used to go hiking and camping all the time when my brothers and I were barely old enough to walk.
Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, the end.
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