Stephanie Mallory is a mom, a hunter and Realtree’s PR Coordinator. She’s here to deliver an insider’s look at the outdoor business and give her opinion on all things outdoors—whether you asked for it or not.
Their Lips Are Sealed
Ainsley Beeman is a guest blogger on The RealBlog. Ainsley is not only the 2009 Miss LSU, but she’s also a hunter. Ainsley is fairly new to the outdoor industry, although she’s hunted since childhood. She enjoys sharing with you her experiences as a woman in the outdoor industry and on the hunt.
Deer head, deer head, on the wall, who's the fairest mount of all? Why, "Mr. Largemouth bass is of course!" Who said that?!?!
Have you ever wondered what wall mounts would say if they could talk? Probably not if you're normal, but you guessed it, I have. Just the other day I was enjoying breakfast at Franks, which we residents of Baton Rouge often refer to as 'an institution.' Somewhere between the eggs, grits, bacon, and Saturday morning girl talk over coffee, I found myself staring across the room in this somewhat obscure diner at the very dated whitetail sporting an above-average spread.
His forked tines, faded coat and slightly tilted head, almost as if he were about to ask me a question, were enough to get me thinking. Just what was his demise and even more intriguing, what stories would he tell if he could talk? My guess is he would first say that he died too young, but before he could finish, the palmated "basket rack" hanging behind me would probably interrupt and say, "Are you kidding me? Do you know what my mount could have looked like in a few years? Talk about lost potential, that's what I'm screaming! I had character and mass going for me but now all I have is the dust on my nose and cob webs between my brow tines." I had to agree and I guess my roommate could tell because our conversation quickly shifted from Saks Fifth Avenue to QDMA.
I couldn't help but laugh as my mind raced with thoughts of me holding a microphone up to each of them in preparation for an exclusive interview on “30/30 with Ainsley Beeman.” Of course Mr. Largemouth hanging to my right promised an interesting conversation judging by his aged yellow skin tone, I'm certain he has heard more good stories than most. In the days prior to catch-and-release had he experienced an ill-fated photo shoot by a fisherman that found him worthy of mounting on a cypress knee? There are so many questions that only he can answer.
Don’t overlook Woodie wood duck and Greta goose, who’ve seen the world from an entirely different perspective and could speak volumes on hot lead, cold feet and perhaps answer the resounding question, "What are those guys shooting at?" More importantly, was their annual migration or family vacation cut short by a bearded man with a painted face? The Duck Commander philosophy, "If it flies, it dies," leaves little to the imagination in the Mississippi Flyway. Check out the waterfowl bling! Congrats to Greta on that shiny band on her left ankle ... I bet she would shop on Fifth Ave if given a second chance.
One can’t help but imagine all the great stories each trophy has of their own. How many fishing tales, hunting stories, and football scores have been told at the tables around them? How many times would each mount have chuckled or gasped as paper napkins were secretly tattooed with the ultimate decoy spread, honeyhole, or big-buck hangout? Whoever came up with the old adage about wanting to be a "fly on the wall" must have been city folk. While some mounts are quite impressive, others might not appear so at first glance, but I'd be willing to bet you breakfast that back in the day its story was bigger than life.
What are your thoughts? Have I lost you on this one or do you often wonder about hunts of the past? We may never know the details because their lips are sealed except for Mr. Largemouth ... and he's not talking.
As always, God bless and good hunting.