Wilson Post Blogs

By JOHN L. SLOAN, This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it
It closed for business two years ago. The door slammed shut to the public. Over 25 years of tradition was over. White Oak Plantation as we all knew it was no more. Gone. However, you cannot close a reputation for excellence.

The boots of 16,000 hunters had trod the wood steps leading to the big lodge and the bedrooms and dining hall. Lord, the lies told and the memories created in the great room. Mounted heads looked down in amazement, antiques begged to be admired, all gone, now.

I worked and played at White Oak for some 25-years. I was part of the start of the largest bowhunt for women only. What a success that was. For 13-years Does and Bows was one of the highlights of the season. I helped with the first hunt for juveniles. Both those hunts started with conversations between Robert Pitman and me on the front porch.

I killed a few deer at White oak, too, including the biggest one ever killed there with a bow. I killed a turkey or two and Lord at the fish I caught, bass and bream. Over the year, I spent a lot of time down there. It was where I went to recover when I was sick. It was a place I could kick back and refill my swerve.

I watched the sunrises and sunsets from the large front and back porches. I swapped lies and facts and enjoyed the camaraderie of the hunters and especially Robert and Hilda Pitman, the owners. The doors are shut to the public, now. No more groups of 30 hunters creating a din of stories in the dining hall. The vast acres chopped up and sold.

Gone.

Maybe not all gone. There are still 1,200 acres surrounding the home place. The main lodge and out buildings are intact. Robert and Hilda still live there and Matt, their son and his family, wife Mary, and their two kids. Matt put in some green fields this year and made sure some stands were up just in case a few old friends stopped by to hunt. There are some stands back in the swamp where a creek I can neither pronounce or spell runs through the thick cypress, tupelo, hardwoods and pines. There are still a few fish left in the home lake…some big ones, too. Course, the drought this year hasn’t helped.

Mark Campbell, known locally as Big Bird and I will be visiting January 13-16. It will be a bit of a homecoming for me. We will fool with the deer some because there are some big bucks that haven’t been hunted for two years. See, it is the peak of the rut down there, prime time to hunt. There are plenty of does that need thinning. If one of those cussed hogs steps out, he is toast. We might fish a little, too. I have been saving a special backstrap from a dry doe I killed here for at least one meal.

The afternoon hunt on January 15 will be a special one for me. I have been asked to guide one Ryan Donald on special hunt for deer. Ryan, age 23, has a severe form of cerebral palsy. This may be his last hunt. Robert, Hilda, and them, are going all out to make it special. Matt built a stand to accommodate his wheel chair. Various companies have outfitted him in the latest hunting clothes and equipment. I am honored that he asked me to guide him and more than happy to oblige. I’ll try hard to get that young man a deer.

I know, there will be some porch activity complete with big glasses of the best grapefruit juice I have ever had and a lie or so punctuated with some “I told you so’s”. We will recall years past, going back over the special memories from special hunts, the great meals.

The bucks will be trailing if not actually chasing the does. Since the entire place was under a strict management plan for a quarter century, the buck/doe ratio is great and the age strata are about the best around. Therefore, the chances for a mature whitetail buck are better that average.

The Bird might have a chance for the biggest buck of his life. Won’t take much. For years, this week has been known as the premiere hunt of the year. Many families reserved this week for their hunt. I wonder how many young people have killed their first or maybe biggest buck on this week.

White Oak is closed to the public. No more 500-600 hunters a year. Those days are gone. The big lakes are sold, gone. No more racket from hunters messing with their turkey calls. Those days are gone. Walking in a straight line all day and never, leave the property will not happen again. Much of that property is gone.

White Oak is mostly no more. What is left, excluding the memories, is for sale, too and one day it will be gone. But not quite yet. Right now, it is not quite…

Gone.

You just had to be there -- Picture it. Jeanne in the kitchen with pots and pans everywhere. The ham just ready for glazing. So, Jeanne goes to take her shower, leaving the ham on the edge of the counter. My good dog Libby, can easily reach the edge of the counter.

I have to giver her credit, Jeanne; she did not melt down as she might have a few years ago.

There was enough left that with careful trimming, it was okay.  In fact, it was downright hilarious.

Dear Ken: Please share some background on James McAvoy, who is the voice of Arthur in “Arthur Christmas.”

Scottish actor McAvoy, 32, grew up with his grandparents. His grandfather was a butcher, and McAvoy worked at a bakery as a teenager. He appeared in his first film at 15 and then studied at the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama. He was in an episode of “Band of Brothers” and then began working steadily in British films and TV shows. His film credits in the past seven years include “Wimbledon,” “The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe,” “The Last King of Scotland,” “Wanted,” “The Last Station” and “X-Men: First Class.” He was also the voice of Gnomeo in “Gnomeo & Juliet.”  He is married to actress Anne-Marie Duff and they have a young son. As for voicing Arthur, McAvoy says, “It was difficult to keep up such an unwavering enthusiasm and high levels of anxiety at the same time. He’s so nice. He’s unbearably nice. (Director) Sarah Smith’s note to me was, ‘Keep making him nicer! Smile more!’ I said, ‘Isn’t that going to get really annoying?’ So yes, that was quite difficult for me to make him so nice. But, I love Christmas. I never used to. I didn’t hate it, but I could take it or leave it. But, as I got to the age of 25 or 26, Christmas became quite a big deal, and I love it now. I love the food, and I love sharing time with people.”

Wow, did the fat man with the red suit and white beard make this my best Christmas ever?

Saint Nick dropped off a dozen Air Jordan 11 Retro Concord sneakers and left them under our tree. You know, the $180-a-pair Nike Jordans that first came out when His Airness and the Chicago Bulls were at the top of the NBA world.

I understand they were hot items in stores around the country this month.

By JOHN L. SLOAN, This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it
It happens every year,

Christmas.

If it were not for the grandkids, I would just about prefer to skip Christmas. I am not anti-Christmas, Rather enjoy the feeling, just tired of all the commerciality. Besides, through the years, I have had some miserable ones. But I won’t go into that.

Jeanne and I pretty much buy whatever we want or need during the year so there is not a lot of anticipation over the box of socks or underwear or the new jogging suit. All are pretty much standard fare. I enjoy watching the GK’s destroy the pretty paper. However, I did think of something I would like.

Some weeks ago, via email, Jimmy Holt, Larry Woody and I kicked something around. We mused around about a fishing trip to Center Hill, the three of us. The fact we all either currently or formerly worked or are working in the same field together does not pose a problem. Jimmy and I were on television together for four years and fished the Hill a lot. Larry and I have shared a boat on a few occasions and he worked at the Nashville paper with Jimmy. I think it would be fun for all three of us to go fish the Hill for a couple days. The fact that we are all also getting a little long in the tooth also figures in.

I know my newspapers, The Wilson Post, Gallatin News and the Hendersonville Standard would not object to Larry and me writing about it. Larry, you see, tries to write for the other paper in Lebanon. I hope that would not be a problem for him. I think it would make a good column, one our readers would enjoy. It would give Jimmy something to lie about.

If we can get some water this spring as we did last spring, the lake would be primo. I am thinking-take Jimmy’s big ole deep breathing boat and spend a night in one of the cabins at  Edgar Evins State park. We would fish an afternoon and a morning, not beating ourselves to death, just easing down some of our old favorite banks, lying about the fish we caught there in years past.

We would start on the long, rocky bank leading into the deep cove straight across from Holmes Creek. Dave Ramsey has a shack built on the bluff overlooking that fine cove. I doubt it cost much over a million. Then, we would just whip around the corner to the second cove, the one I have always called, strangely enough, “Second Cove”. That is a great place to catch spotted bass in the spring and sometimes a crappie will hit a minnow jigged deep.

From there, we might try the left-hand bank coming out of Indian Creek. What a super bank to fish with a medium crankbait in the spring. Lots of rock and mud mix to make it warm a little quicker that some other banks.  Porter Waggoner loved to fish that bank, wrote the song, “Indian Creek” there. My uncle Lester caught his first Center Hill bass there, a largemouth.

Of course, we would have to fish the bank straight across from that. It is called the Jimmy Holt bank. I have no idea why but I do recall a good brown fish I stuck there one late spring afternoon. Mickey Pope and I both estimated her at well over seven pounds. I released her in great shape. I had one explode on a floating worm there, fishing with the Holt one spring morning. Missed the hook set.

That night, I would grill to perfection some superbly marinated deer backstrap. Some garlic mashed potatoes and green beans would fit nicely along side. I’d have to have some of Big Bird’s fantastic squash relish and perhaps a tossed salad. Maybe some butter pecan ice cream for desert. I no longer drink but the “boys” might enjoy a cocktail before dinner.

I am sure the night will be interesting. I can’t speak for Woody but I’m sure Jimmy and I sleep poorly. We would have to get our bathroom trips coordinated to fit our prostate schedules.

In the morning, we would start on the right bank of the second cove on the right as you come out of Cove Hollow. That use to be one of Dave Hughes’ favorite banks and Harold Dotson liked it, too. Those were two of the best smallmouth anglers to ever come out of Hendersonville. I have started my day well there on several occasions. The smallmouth seem to really like both my dark green GitZit and a brown/black hair fly with pork trailer. Early morning with a floating Rapala can be exciting as well. The water jumps up from 90 feet to 18 and is filled with big rocks.

It is a quick jump to the round at the front of the cove straight across from the number two ramp at the park. Boy, that place can be exciting. However, it can be a cold sumbuck before the sun gets to it. I watched Foster Butt shiver the rivets out of my old jon boat many years ago. I thought he was going to freeze to death before we got a fire started. I still laugh about that. We had a ton of fish that morning. I believe it was in early April.

Plenty of good banks to fish and plenty of memories among the three of us. I think it would make a great column. Can you just imagine the stories that would be told? I think I’ll get started working on it.

But first, I have a trip back to Alabama with Big Bird for one last try at a bragging size buck. Right now, G-kids will be here soon. I need to get my Ho-Ho on.

Merry Christmas everyone and remember, not all the good presents come wrapped in shiny paper.

Stop with the excuses

The theme running through the Titans locker room after laying a giant-sized omelet Sunday in Lucas Oil Stadium was all too familiar.

“We just came out flat.’’ No joke.

A lot of athletic teams use that as a flimsy excuse.

Tell me you stunk the joint up like a 24-hour cigar bar. I would buy that.

It is hard to believe that Christmas is here, and before we blink it will be 2012. I hope you have all had a great year and are looking forward to another exciting adventure in the coming one. Ray and I would like to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

I live in Mt. Juliet and while traveling around town this past week or two I’ve noticed a frequent feathered friend perched on some power lines near Old Lebanon Dirt Road.  It is a beautiful American Kestrel, and he has been keeping a keen eye on some open fields from his perch.  I decided to look him up this week and learn more about him since I’m not familiar with our smallest falcon. Here are some of the interesting things I learned…

Dear Ken: What has Dolly Parton been up to lately?

The country music superstar from Sevierville, Tenn., has a new album out, “Better Day,” and a music video of one of the singles from the album, “The Sacrifice,” is now running on TV. Parton says of her new single, “‘The Sacrifice’ is another song that is just so, totally, me. I think it’s so totally everybody that has a dream and desire to be successful, and in order to be successful we have to give up things that we’d rather not. But if we’re not willing to make that sacrifice, usually we don’t see those dreams come true.” The mastermind behind Dollywood is also in a new movie, “Joyful Noise,“ with Queen Latifah and Kris Kristofferson, that opens Jan. 13. The plot centers on an unlikely partnership between two strong-minded women who are forced to work together to save a small-town gospel choir after budget cuts threaten to shut them down. It features music, naturally, by Parton.

By JOHN L. SLOAN
I guess after 57 years of hunting deer, one would expect that I would learn a few things. I think I have. I know for sure I have learned some things about stand placement and positioning. No, they are not the same thing. Placement is where you put the stand. Positioning is how you place it. Maybe there is something I here that will help as you hunt next year.

Scouting and experience is how you learn to place a stand, where it should go. The type of stand-hanging, climbing, ladder or ground blind-will dictate a great deal about placement. Experience will dictate positioning. There is no substitute. You have to lay eyes on the entire situation.

I have two stands that are less than 100 yards apart. Too close you ask? I have killed 38 deer from those stands, 25 from one, 13 from the other. They are in the right places and both places are ones many hunters would pass up. To add to the mix, I park my truck or ATV within sight of both stands. That is stand placement. Now about positioning.

One thing I always try to take into consideration is the time of day I intend to hunt the stand. That is important because it will often dictate how I am going to position it. It often dictates the direction the deer will come from and that concerns the sun. See, many hunters never consider the angle of the sun. If possible, I always want the sun behind me. And yes, it does, to some degree, tend to silhouette me. However, it gives me a much greater advantage in two ways. They are important ways.

First, it puts the sun in the game’s eyes instead of mine. Have you ever tried to look through a riflescope when shooting directly into the sun? A man can starve down to a slim shadow trying that.

Secondly. It tends to make an animal travel with their head down and with a reluctance to look up. I have learned that many hunters never considered that. Just something to keep in mind.

While I am talking about the angle of the sun, let me mention that when I hang  a stand with the early morning or late evening sun as a consideration, I also try to put the stand on the side of the tree away from the direction I expect the game to come. That way, I have the tree between the game and me. Sounds crazy to have to look behind you all the time, doesn’t it. It may be but it is one heck of an advantage to have a tree silhouetted against the sun and you peeking around it. That single tactic has probably accounted for me killing well over 100 deer that I would not have killed had I been on the other side of the tree. I want the deer in the sun and looking into the sun. I want the sun behind me and a tree between me and the deer.

Just something over a half-century of deer hunting taught me.

Moving. Let’s talk about moving. I mean moving the whole dang thing. Say you are hunting a stand for the first or maybe second time and you notice most of the deer are using (an old timers term for traveling), just out of range or in an area, you cannot shoot.

Move right then. Do not plan to come back tomorrow and move the stand, do it right then. I don’t care if a deer is watching you, climb down and move. Several times, I have done that, climbed right back up and killed a deer. You cost yourself by waiting…every time. Often, the biggest buck will come through last. Move the stand, climb up and maybe kill him. Remember, if they can’t see or hear you move, it didn’t happen.

Just something else I learned.

Build a highway. Deer do not like briars and thick weeds anymore than we do. I cannot count the number of times I have actually made deer walk within shooting distance of my stand simply by creating a highway for them to travel. The latest instance was just a few weeks ago.

I was not able to hunt much last year, just not healthy enough. As a result, one of my stands went unhunted and the weeds grew shoulder high on the trail going to it. To hunt it this year, I had to use a sling-blade and actually cut a trail three feet wide and 75 yards long to it. Within three days, the trail was beaten down with deer tracks.

The first time I hunted it, September 28, late in the afternoon deer just poured down the trail and right past my stand. I killed two, a doe and a buck, within three minutes of each other. I was shooting the TenPoint crossbow.

So use that knowledge and look for places you can do the same. Make a highway through tall weeds and grass. If you have a bushog, make one pass in a place you want deer to travel -- don’t make it wide. They still like cover, just wide enough to walk. Then place a stand in a good ambush spot.

Just something, I learned from experience.

You learn, after watching a few thousand deer, to read body language. You begin to understand what is about to happen seconds before it happens. You come to understand that deer “crouch” before running. That mean their entire body lowers by as much as 18 inches. Why is this important? If you are a bowhunter, it is very important because it tells you where to aim. Over 60% the deer that are missed with a bow and arrow are missed because the arrow goes high. If you aim low-at the lower part of the vitals-quite often, the deer ducks into the arrow.

Just something, I learned from experience.

Bowhunting makes you a better hunter or at least it should. Over half the deer, I have killed in five decades and change of deer hunting I killed with a bow or crossbow. For 30 some years it has been almost a passion and for many of those years a part of my profession.

Sitting in trees, waiting for deer to come within 35 yards of me forced me to watch and learn. With a rifle, you do not usually have a lot of waiting and watching. You shoot. Being forced to watch deer, you learn how they move and why they do things.

You learn to decipher  head-bobs, foot-stomps, snorts, and “blowing”. You learn to read the language of the tail. A deer, especially a mature doe, communicates a great deal with her tail. Watch it enough and you learn to understand that communication. Learn from your own experience. Don’t depend on what some, even me, tell you. They could be wrong.

Just something, I learned from experience.

I urge all hunters to study deer, don’t just hunt them. It will make your hunting experience more enjoyable. Watch a deer do something strange, say stand with one leg raised and tail twitching from side to side and ask yourself, what is that all about? Then keep watching and see if you can figure it out. Watch an old doe stomp, flick her tail, and stare a hole through something. What did the foot stomp mean? She  was communicating. Was she trying to elicit movement? What did she say? (BTW- The answer is yes to both.)

There is a lot more “fun” in the deer woods than just killing. Go to school and study. You will be surprised how much you will learn. I have learned far more sitting in a tree than I have sitting in a classroom. Pretty good education to share and pass on to the button bucks in your family, too.

Is Tim Tebow for real?

Is he from another planet? If you cut him, would he bleed? Seriously.

He is becoming Rev. Billy Graham in shoulder pads.

He’ll run over you one minute and pray for you the next.

Just hours after the Titans botched an opportunity to post a signature win at LP Field Sunday, I was driving home and tuned into the final minutes of the Denver-Chicago game.

Down 10-0 with some five minutes left, Superman, uh, Tebow found another improbable way to rescue his team from the jaws of defeat.

With 2:08 left in regulation, here he was again. With all his mechanical flaws, with all the naysayers harrumphing that there was no way he could pull out this game.

After all, the Bears aren’t called the Monsters of the Midway for nothing. Surely Bears linebacker Brian Urlacher, who eats quarterbacks for breakfast, would put a knot on Tebow’s head the size of a grapefruit.

But, no. Tebow gets Denver to the outer limit of field goal range and kicker Matt Prater nukes a 59-yarder through the uprights with three seconds to spare. It forced overtime and the Broncos were still breathing.

After Chicago failed to score on its first possession, here came Tebow riding in on a white horse. This time Prater needed only 51 yards to decide the outcome. It was just another chapter added to Tebow’s legend, which is spreading around the NFL world like kudzu.

“If you believe, unbelievable things can sometimes be possible,’’ Tebow told reporters afterwards.

Can I get an Amen?

Adjectives fall short of describing what Tebow has done since his arrival in Denver. Doubters included his coach, John Fox, and Broncos executive vice-president of football operations and Pro Football Hall of Fame quarterback John Elway.

Dear Ken: Is the singer named Lobo, who had a hit song called “Me and You and a Dog Named Boo” in the 1970s, still performing?

That would be singer-songwriter Roland Kent LaVoie, aka Lobo, 68, who is semi-retired and living in Florida with his wife. “People don’t know me much or the way I look and that’s OK. To this day, most probably think I’m some group,” he said. Over a four-year period in the early 1970s, Lobo also had hits with his folk-country tunes “I’d Love You To Want Me,” “Where Were You When I Was Falling in Love” and “Don’t Expect Me To Be Your Friend.” As for “Me And You and a Dog Named Boo,” he really had a German shepherd named Boo. Lobo released his last album, “Out of Time,” in 2008.

Dear Ken: Whatever happened to the stars of “Laverne & Shirley”?

Well, Cindy Williams, 64, who played Shirley, will star as Mother Superior in “Nunset Boulevard: The Nunsense Hollywood Bowl Show,” which will go on a multi-city national tour next fall. She was most recently seen on Broadway in “The Drowsy Chaperone,” and the mother of two helped produced the Steve Martin “Father of the Bride” movies. She also just finished the play “The Odd Couple,” opposite Jo Anne Worley, and stars opposite John Heard in the romantic comedy, a film that has yet to be released. Penny Marshall, 69, who played Laverne, just announced she would be publishing her memoir, “My Mother Is Nuts,” next fall with Amazon Publishing. The director of such movie hits as “Big” and “A League of Their Own,” said she will share tales about her childhood and her relationship with her brother, Garry Marshall, who produced “Laverne & Shirley” and “Happy Days.” She likely will discuss her marriage to Rob Reiner and will talk about her battle with lung and brain cancer in 2009. “People have always asked me how I got from the Bronx to Hollywood, so I thought it was time to tell how it all happened. I have had many lives (not in the Shirley MacLaine sense) and you will hear about them all. . . . just don’t expect any recipes . . . I don't cook,” she wrote in a statement.  

Dear Ken: Our family favorite show is “The Closer,” and I have heard it will stop filming this year. We love to pick out who is guilty and watch the whole crew work together. How funny they are with looks, eye movements and comments between.

By JOHN L. SLOAN
This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it
I remember Thanksgiving 1957. I was 13 and the proud owner of a beautiful, 16-gauge double barrel. It was a mint condition L. C. Smith. I later traded it for a 12-gauge but at the time, it was my prize possession. It was drizzly and cold in the Saline swamp and the afternoon before we had hunted ducks. I killed four.

Thanksgiving morning we would deer hunt for a few hours, make just one drive, and then head to camp to start the hog roast. The fire was already burning and coming to cooking coals. For one of the first times, I had the duty of handling the dogs. That meant I had scant chance at seeing a deer but I thought the job held great responsibility.

Uncles Lloyd, Lester, and Alphus dropped the dogs and I off on the Muddy bayou road and I sat shivering in the dark waiting for the first light to start. It would be a foggy morning, clear with patchy fog laying close to the ground, spooky in a way but I liked it, made the swamp mysterious. I would drive through the swamp about two miles until I hit the Alligator Bayou swamp road, just a mud track.

In a drive, you walk quickly, directing the dogs.

Dear Ken: Regarding the Christmastime movie “Home Alone,” how old now are the kids who played Macaulay Culkin’s siblings?

Well, Culkin, who starred as Kevin McCallister in the 1990 flick (which was the highest-grossing film that year at $477 million), is 31. The youngsters who played his siblings are all the same age: 34. They are: Devin Ratray, an actor-musician, as Buzz; Hillary Wolf, a member of the 1996 and 2000 Olympic Judo Team, as Megan; Angela Goethals, still acting, as Linnie; and Michael C. Maronna, an electrician in film and TV, as Jeff.   

Dear Ken: What else has Ginnifer Goodwin, who plays Mary Margaret Blanchard on the TV series “Once Upon a Time,” done?

Goodwin, 33, who was born in Memphis, Tenn., earned a degree in acting from Boston University and trained with the Royal Shakespeare Company. She was in the TV series “Ed” and “Big Love” and did voices for “Robot Chicken.” Movie wise, she starred in “Win a Date With Tod Hamilton!” and played Johnny Cash’s first wife in “Walk the Line.” And she played Aunt Bea in “Ramona and Beezus” and appeared in “Something Borrowed” and “Birds of America.”

Dear Ken: Where was Roberta Flack, the singer of “Killing Me Softly With His Song,” born?

Flack, 74, was born in Black Mountain, N.C. She won Grammy Record of the Year for that song in 1974 and won the same honor in 1973 for “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.” The singer-songwriter is currently working on an album of Beatles’ classics and continues to perform around the world. She founded the Roberta Flack School of Music at the Hyde Leadership Charter School in the Bronx, which provides a music education program to underprivileged students free of charge.

Dear Ken: I just saw for the first time an actress named Gene Tierney in a wonderful murder mystery called “Laura.” Could she still be alive? What are some more of her movies?

Tierney died in 1991 of emphysema at 70. Sadly, because she believed she sounded squeaky on film, she began smoking to help lower her voice and that contributed to her death. For a few more of her classic roles, check out the films “Heaven Can Wait,” “Leave Her to Heaven,” “The Mating Season,” “The Razor’s Edge” and “The Ghost and Mrs. Muir.” She made her last appearance in the 1980 miniseries “Scruples.”

by Ken Beck

If you have a trivia question about actors, singers, movies, TV shows or pop culture, e-mail your query to Ken Beck at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it

Dark-eyed Junco or Snowbird

Hello to all my birding friends. You do not know how much I have missed you. I have had a very rough time and even looked death straight in the eye. Thanks to our Lord and Savior, Jesus, I have been given an extension on my life. We are planning on giving you the full story on my health problem with a stern warning which may save your life. Many churches have me on their prayer list, and my good friends on Facebook and Bc Yahola and the members of “If you grew up in Lebanon you remember...” have prayed without ceasing. Thanks to all of you.

My mother, Margie Pope, took care of me for a little over two weeks while new friends from Donelson Home Health taught me exercises to help build my muscles which had deteriorated from my two weeks of ICU in a coma. The first chance I went out to my house, my binoculars were a “must-have” so I could see what all was feeding on and below my brother’s sock feeder. There were Chickadees eating the stale Nyjer seed from the sock while other ground feeders were scratching below for leftovers. There was one solitary White-throated Sparrow out by the old shed in the backyard.

It was great to have Karen Franklin and her two children, Anna and Nick, visit me on a Saturday afternoon. The first thing I saw when I awoke in the hospital was a couple of drawings from Nick and Anna, wishing Mr. Ray to get well soon. They are such a loving family. I would like to thank Karen for keeping you informed on my situation and to her husband John for his patience while she wrote articles for your enjoyment. You don't really know what it takes to write something each week, especially when you don't want to repeat yourself.

Dotty Kim and her daughter, Tammy, along with a couple of her grandchildren, Britney and Steven, hijacked me one night to go to Ponderosa for supper. Since I was not working, there was not enough money for a steak, so I ordered the salad bar. The manager Billy Mullinax spotted me and was asking where I had been and why I wasn't eating steak. I explained everything about my condition and my empty wallet. In no time Billy returned to our table with a juicy sirloin steak, compliments of the manager. It was the first real meal that I have eaten outside of what my mother cooked. Thanks Billy!

Finally, like Dorothy said in her famous movie, "There's no place like home." You don't know how many times I have joked with some of my visiting friends, telling them that I have clicked my heels three times and repeated Dorothy’s line. My mother was afraid that I might want to go home too early, but I reminded her about our trips to Florida. It was a lot of fun, but it was so nice to see the lights of Lebanon when we topped Four Mile Hill.

My birdfeeders were dry as a bone and had been for over a month when I finally got around to refilling them. It took two whole days before anything showed up to feast, and the first birds were Carolina Chickadees. The next day one of my favorites showed up. The Dark-eyed Junco was scratching beneath the feeder on the seed that was scattered just for the ground scratchers. My left ring finger is starting to get sore, so I will close this article and hope to have another for you next Wednesday.

I would love to hear from you as to what’s lurking about in your neighborhood and at your feeders. You can write me at 606 Fairview Ave., Lebanon, TN, 37087 or e-mail me at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it

by Ray Pope

The Oklahoma Cowpokes are bellyaching in their beer this week. They don’t get to play undefeated LSU in the BCS Championship Game.

Ah, the BCS. An imperfect system at best.

The Harris Interactive Poll, comprised of 115 voters (including this writer) from various walks of life, submitted their final top 25 votes Sunday.

LSU was a consensus No. 1. The brilliance of the panel is overwhelming, no?

No.

Alabama came out second, with Oklahoma State third. That’s the way my poll read, but I recognize there is legitimate room for debate that Oklahoma State deserved to jump an idle Alabama and grab the coveted second spot at the table.

By JOHN L. SLOAN
November is dead. The river is almost frozen. There is skim ice out three feet in some places. Brown brittle leaves scud across the hard ground. Just to make it more miserable, the wind is from the north and gusting. A flock of mallards whistles by. I blow my nose and use my left sleeve as intended. I check the scope one more time. Four power is enough.

I have come to this bleak part of Nebraska on a whim. When I was here, shooting a video during the October bow season, a much more hospitable time, I saw evidence of one, possibly two large deer. One rub on a tree larger than my cameraman’s leg got me excited. The rub got me excited,  not his leg. When one of the local hunters killed a Pope and Young class buck near here.  I did some scouting and determined where the river crossing was.

The deer feed over in the Iowa during the night and cross back into Nebraska at dawn. Since gun season is not open in Iowa, I was waiting for them to make their nightly pilgrimage. I intend to catch them on the Nebraska side before they cross into Iowa. My only chance was on the river bank. The brush was too thick leading to the bank and I had no way of knowing where in the hills and thickets they bedded. I had to take my stand just as they reached the clear river bank.

They must come soon or both November and my hunt will be over. The does, three of them, come with head bobs and ear flicking. Earlier, I had seen one pause in the scrub before entering the bottom. The last rays of weak sun seemed to warm her. She was young, an early fawn.

That was an hour ago. Now this trio moves down the bank. They look stuffed in their winter coats. They tiptoe across the ice and enter the water. Somewhere a fire is going in a house. I can smell the smoke. Across the river, a light begins to wink in a house over a mile away. The grain train at the elevator blows its’ whistle, preparing to pull out for somewhere. I sniff the smoke again.

A fox trips through the bottom, walking large fallen logs and investigating mice burrows. He provides color in drab afternoon. I stretch my legs and wiggle my cold toes. I have been semi-hidden behind the log, a big piece of driftwood, for an hour. The river bottom is full of blow-down trees and driftwood. It is a maze, treacherous to walk. One more hour until dark. He I remember an afternoon when I was young. I can’t recall the exact age but it was a cold afternoon for Louisiana and I am walking down Colony Road, heading home. It is twilight and I can smell wood smoke from a stove. Perhaps it was Audrey Edwards’ house. How or why do I remember her name? I doubt it was her eyes.

Again I scan the river bank. I think of the old camp on Back Camp Slough. The smoke would come through the walls and make your eyes water.

We called it the Smoke House. We used it mostly to duck hunt and sometimes to run the big swamp rabbits with beagles. We would pack in like sardines, Lloyd, Lester, Alphus, Flytrap Wakefield and old Frank Chatelein.

It was always my job to start the morning fire to knock off the chill. That reminds me of the chill-X2, I am currently fighting. I check the riverbank again. Cold and still, just wisp of smoke, barren…almost.

He is dim in the gathering dusk. Even through the scope I can’t clearly see his antlers, just that he has some. He is not the buck I am hunting. In scant minutes it will be too dark to shoot, hunt over. I know the big, bent cottonwood tree he is approaching. It is just about 200 yards away. I let the .308 rest on my big, left-hand glove on top the log. The crosshairs hold rock steady. I take a deep breath and let half of it out. One inch low at 200-yards so I hold one inch high and gently squeeze the trigger.

The rifle jumps and the sound echoes up and down the river, bouncing off the big trees. I do not know if I hit or missed. He just vanished.

I am assuming a hit. Unless you know for sure otherwise, you always assume so. A raft of small ducks signal the end of daylight and the clouds curtain out what little is left. It is dark.

Walking the drift detritus is too hazardous in the dark. The river, when at flood, dumps everything on the banks. To walk it in the dark is to ask for a broken leg. It is below freezing. A dead deer will keep well until daylight. November and my hunt are over. Tomorrow I will know how it went.

Tomorrow I will bundle again in my warmest and perhaps the sun will shine. We will find out the truth, not a memory on the wind yet, but one day soon. Then I will head home, 713 miles south and east of the log, I lean against.  

Again, I smell the smoke. As I gather up my equipment, I have no choice but to think of other smokes I have smelled through the years. Campfires and  fireplaces and stoves. November is gone, the happiness of Thanksgiving just another memory on the wind.

Many memories on the wind tonight.

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Tennessee Coach Derek Dooley could not have had his players pick a worse time to quit on him than the final game of the season.

Vols fans has to be embarrassed by the fact players mailed it in against a woeful Kentucky team that beat Tennessee for the first time in 26 years.

The story is even more worrisome because Tennessee had something meaningful to play for – a post-season bowl game.

If successful, it would mean an opportunity to finish with a winning record in a season where a lot of things went wrong.

More importantly it would have given Dooley and his team another four or five weeks to practice. Heaven knows that team could have used more practice.

But the players were admitting they weren’t into the game. Some said they didn’t want to go to some minor bowl game, perhaps referring to last year’s Franklin American Mortgage’s Music City Bowl game in Nashville.

So they bailed out. They didn’t compete. For athletes, that is the cardinal sin.

So they lolly-gagged around while Kentucky used a wide receiver that had not played quarterback since he was in high school five years ago. Unlike Tennessee’s football team, Matt Roark took advantage of the opportunity he was given. Roark ran for 124 yards, as Kentucky won, 10-3.

Dear Ken: I seem to remember that Kirk Russell starred in a western series on TV when he was a boy. Can you help with the title?

That was “The Travels of Jamie McPheeters,” which ran during the 1963-1964 season with Russell as a 12-year-old boy on a wagon train heading West in 1849. Dan O’Herlihy played his father, a scalawag and a doctor. The cast also featured four of the Osmond Brothers as the Kissels (Micah, Leviticus, Deuteronomy and Lamentations). Charles Bronson joined the series in later episodes as wagon master, but the series only made it one season. Russell, 60, was born in Springfield, Mass., and was getting close to making his dream come true of playing major league baseball when an injury ended his career. His dad, Bing Russell, played Deputy Clem Foster in a number of episodes of “Bonanza.”

Dear Ken: Where was Kal Penn of “Harold and Kumar” fame born?

Penn, 34, who plays Kumar to John Cho’s Harold, was born in Montclair, N.J. He recently spent two years as a mid-level staffer in the White House and currently is working on a sitcom set at the United Nations. Next month he and Cho return in “A Very Harold & Kumar Christmas,” as the duo treks through NYC looking for the ideal Christmas tree.

Dear Ken: What happened to child actor Bobby Buntrock, who played the boy in the 1960s sitcom “Hazel”?

Buntrock,  who played Harold Baxter in the comedy, died in an automobile accident in 1974 at the age of 21. As a youth he appeared in the first Rock’em Sock’em Robots toy commercial for the Marx Toy Company in 1964.

Dear Ken: What’s doing with Gina Torres, who played Zoe Washburne on “Firefly”?

Cuban-American Washburne, 42, was just in the TV series “Huge” but presently co-stars on “Suits.” She has also been doing the voice of Airachnid on the cartoon series “Transformers Prime.” And she is in the movie “Mr. Sophistication.” Trained in opera and jazz, she and husband Laurence Fishburne have a young daughter. She says the experience of making Firefly left her incredibly spoiled because the cast and crew worked so well together. “I thought that there would never be another occasion for that, and I have to say, these guys (on “Suits”) are fantastic,” she says.

If you have a trivia question about actors, singers, movies, TV shows or pop culture, e-mail your query to Ken Beck at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it