BACK IN THE BUSH FOR GOOD,WITH MY UNDERTAKER

2016-03-17 00.11.24 (2).jpg JOE BEBONING, WALT, LAUGHING BEARSThe other day I had a strange

premonition that I was going to die,

so I did the only logical thing: I

went into the bush and I

asked my undertaker to

accompany me.

He’s tall and thin, almost

cadaverous, you could say, and

he looks just like what he is –

an undertaker (not so much

one of the guys who greet you

with a smile at the main door at

funeral time, but one of those

you just know they’ve got

working downstairs.)

“Eat, drink and be merry,” it

is said, “For tomorrow you may

die.” Well, that’s exactly what

we decided to do, my under-

taker and I. I bought an enormous

roast, and he two very large

sirloin steaks, about an inch and

a half thick. I bought corned beef;

he bought a side of bacon and a bag

of bones, for stewing, along ,of course,

with a few pounds of stewing beef. I

bought the olives, lemons, limes,

and the five bottles of Italian red wine

(gentle on my tender stomache). He

bought the Spumante Bambino. We

both chipped in on the four cases of

twenty-four, and I insisted on a large

supply of whiskey.

Onions, potatoes, yams, and that

was about all we figured we could

portage. Many women were invited,

but have you ever noticed that it’s

difficullt to get a woman into the

remote bush at 20 degrees below

zero. Especially if you have just met.

They wonder about your intentions.

Mine were simple… I needed

a nurse.

*

Anyway, we flew to where

the boat was, and once dropped

on the flat rock of the pre-cambrian

shield I felt a wave of euphoria

sweep over me. I waved “By by”

to the plane as it swept off over

the pines. The pilot asked me

when I wanted to get picked up.

I just said, “Never!”

Apparently he couldn’t see the

vicious aluminum boat hidden

between the trees, complete with

my KG7.

So it was a very short time before

we were screaming along the viscious,

thick black surface of the icy water

over Bear Lake, up the snaky waterway

and into the great beyond. My

undertaker handed me four beers

which I put into the pockets of

my coat. I had a thin, wild grin on

my face, the sort of smile you

can have only when you are

certain you are approaching

the EDGE at fifty miles an hour,

despite the ice flows, or maybe

because of them.

The undertaker screams,

I used to be a coyote, but that’s

all over nowoooooooooooooooo!.”

I have obviously picked the

right man for this rather difficult

mission.

*

 

 

 

 

2016-03-17 00.10.30 (2).jpg BACK IN THE BUSH WITH MY UNDERTAKER

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