Scouts-L Mail Archive for April of 1999: Subject: Pheasants Pheasants
Subject: Pheasants Pheasants
NORMAN M COHN
Wed, 7 Apr 1999 23:11:29 EDT
On Wed, 7 Apr 1999 09:26:30 EDT From "Gary A. Musselman"
>I, too, see a need for Scouts (and a lot of other people) to understand
>once-upon-a-time people didn't go to the supermarket for everything they
> One-upon-a-time, things were mcuh more hands-on and needs were more
>difficult to satisfy. Instant gratification was not nearly as
>People also should bridge the mental gap they have between "Oh, you
>shoot Bambi" or "Look how cute 'Bossy' is" and chomping on a roast at
.dinner table. People feel their hands are clean as long as what they
>packaged in styrofoam and clear wrap. Clearly, chopping heads off and
>plucking feathers (both of which I have done many times) bridges that
>On the other hand, times do change. Some of the good old days weren't
>all that good and returning is a concept that needs study. Are your
>ready for the blood and the action? What will the effect be - in
>seeing how folks did in the olden days - on the boys? When I first
>chicken, it was after growing up seeing it done. Don't know how I would
>felt if I had been thrust into not one, but several. Maybe, for your
>purposes, one would suffice....
**********NMC Seems to me that you started on the right path and
then drifted into, "Bossy went away".
Are we still teaching what to do if one is "lost" for an extended period?
If we need to build a shelter, we're going to have to "snare" food beyond
the greenery. If we snare it, we'll have to render it to a "cooking"
condition. That means dead, (hopefully) bled and into a "cooking"
facility (a fire). We invariably teach all but the transfer from alive to
I was a City boy who spent his summers in the country, usually finding a
Farm to be an unpaid hand. Today, I can remember having Louis Quesada, a
Chicken farmer with some 50,000 chickens (a small farm), give me two
chickens to take home for helping him out. I received the birds on the
day I went with a load to the Slaughterer. When Mom put this gorgeous,
golden brown bird in front of the family that night, all I could smell
was the blood from the draining barrels. I swore off Chicken till mom
cooked Chicken, again.
Yes, after that incident I ate what went on the table, even the cow I
raised and took to slaughter and watched that ritual, with no more than a
wince and a Thank you for what You allow us to receive. Don't make this
very necessary part of LIFE become something that our savage" ancestors
did. Somehow the witnessing under intelligent supervision, makes Life
I would like to have that Super Market Franchise in the Wilderness.
Scouts don't mind paying.
>This probably raised more questions than it answered. Good luck.
Norman & June COHN "email@example.com"