Growing Up Ralph - Thanksgiving Tribute

I’m not sure if love is blind but I do think at times it’s pretty gullible.

Years ago, when Char and I were dating, Thanksgiving was a few weeks away. I asked if she would like to go to the district turkey shoot with me. Being young and in love, she immediately said yes.

The district turkey shoot involved all the people on my district competing for the largest frozen turkey by shooting clay pigeons. Clay pigeons are round, brightly colored clay disks, four inches in size, which are flung through the air by a machine. It's normally called trap shooting but because of Thanksgiving, we dubbed it the ‘turkey shoot’.

While driving up the mountain, Char said she had never been to a turkey shoot before. Hearing that, I didn’t want to bore her with minor details like shooting clay pigeons and frozen turkeys. I reached behind the seat, handed her a pair of long leather gloves, and told her she might want to put them on. She stared at them then asked why. “Oh, those are so the turkey spurs (claws) won’t tear up your arms . . . as bad.”

Now she was taking a real interest in the event, she even wanted to know what she had to do. “Well, when we get there put the gloves on, go to the cage and grab one of turkeys.” I had to pause to answer her question. Of course, they're live turkeys, you can’t shoot a dead one.

"Try and grab them as close to the legs as you can, that way they can’t kick as much and you can somewhat control how bad you get cut by the spurs.” I had to pause here for another question – of course, all the other girl friends and wives do the same thing. They have been for years, perhaps they can give you some pointers.

“When you’re holding the legs try not and worry about the beak. Those pecks really don’t hurt. . . .that much.” Another question – yeah, they peck, I thought everyone knew that.

I continued, “Say I don’t suppose you brought an extra set of clothes?” When she replied no I went on, “Man, that’s to bad. You see the natural tendency is to hold the turkey close to your body in an effort to control the spurs and the beak. But that’s the last thing you want to do, hold them away from you. If you hold them to close you’ll end up being covered with turkey crap and that stuff really stinks.” Another question. I felt obligated to answer, “Of course they do, if someone yanked you out of a cage and was about to throw you in the air to be shot at wouldn’t you?”

As we pulled into the field where the turkey shoot was to be held I had one last suggestion. “Oh yeah,” I said, “after you throw the turkey in the air don’t forget to fall to the ground . . . don’t want to get hit by any stray buckshot.”

Everyone just stared as Char climbed out wearing long leather gloves. She must have had a good time – she still married me. And, for that, I am thankful.