Great Family, Good Food, and a Grand Reminder
The sound of heavy gunfire filled the air. The smell of burnt gunpowder hung as thick as a fog, as I found myself thinking shoot, shoot, shoot, reload! Only to find once again throwing lead as fast as I had reloaded.
This may sound like an excerpt from a WW II movie, but in reality it’s something much less exhilarating. This is actually the daydream I found myself in the middle of when I was supposed to be learning about the principles of agricultural economics last Friday. This daydream about the opening day of pheasant season fascinated me far more than supply and demand, and all I could think about was the amount of birds I would see that next day. Even as I drove home I began formulating my battle plan for the next day.
But all of these thoughts dwindled as I unloaded my truck, and proceeded to walk upstairs to see my mother, little demon…I mean brother, and father. To my surprise as I made my way to the kitchen I was greeted by not only my mother, but also my grandparents who I hadn’t seen forever. After a solid round of hello’s and hugs I went to the garage where even more guests awaited, these guests were all members of the North American Limousin Foundation. These men, my father included, are all respected cattle men who were looking to have a good weekend of hunting just like me. That evening was filled with cleaning a couple turkeys the NALF guys had shot, and of course attempting to put myself into a food coma afterwards. As I ate roughly three times my body weight in pinwheels, noodles, brisket and pie jokes and stories were passed around almost as quickly as the plates.The rest of the weekend followed a much similar pattern, and before I knew it I was once again sitting behind the wheel of my Dodge truck bound for Manhattan. This drive gave me a chance to reflect on the whole weekend. After recounting the roughly one million miles I had walked, the amazing shots made, and of course the food, I began to dig even deeper into the meaning of this joyful getaway.
When I really broke it down, this weekend gave me insight into my character. The gentleman from NALF, my father, and grandfather all represented the kind of men who I respected and to some point idolized. They were the kind of man I hoped I would someday be, whether they were cowboys, successful businessman, or just all around amazing men like my grandfather. They all represented the ideals that I held close at heart. My mother and grandmother represented the value that family held in my life and Jonah, well he covered all the miscellaneous fun things I enjoy.
This past National Convention carried the title “I Believe”. For people to be able to believe in us we must first know exactly who we are. Being a believable person all starts with knowing your personal character, knowing what you stand for. This past weekend allowed me to hone in on several things that build up my character, things that make me who I am. So I ask you: What causes others to believe in you? What makes up that rock known as your personal character?
