Dammit all to hell. I’m back.
I have this nephew. Actually I have two nephews. And a niece. And they are three of my favorite people on the planet. Today, though, I’m focusing on this one.
He’s kind, smart, funny, generous, fairly soft spoken and has an absolutely wicked cool head of hair. He also has a passion for hunting. I take great joy in his instagram feed consisting of little more than dead birds, not because I’m a hunter (obvi), but because his enthusiasm for the sport of hunting waterfowl is pretty much the single most genuine thing you’ll find on the internet. Or anywhere else for that matter. He and some friends (most of whom are at the ripe old age of 18 or 19, I believe) have recently started an outfitting company, taking people out on guided hunts.
Young adults. Pursuing their passion. Putting out a shingle and doing what they love. It makes me SO damn happy, because we should all be doing something we love so much.
I cannot speak to his business partners because I don’t know them. I do know, however, that my nephew is a bird-killing badass. Because, Instagram.
He does all this. With exactly zero AR-15’s in his arsenal.