Well here in the coal region, the Monday after Thanksgiving means only one thing: Deer season.

I’m grateful because there is a less chance through the winter that Bambi and children will smash into my window.. 

However, as this horrendous song (but overly played today in Pennsylvania) proves, not all hunters are on the march for a deer.. maybe instead they are just getting drunk and wearing dirty underwear. 

Oh the coal region.

I have fond memories years ago of my father telling me to either ‘wear orange’ when I leave the house or just stay in the basement all day, because drunk hunters have terrible shots.

Maybe my dad was right about these precautionary actions. I am still alive today.

And one day I will express the same warnings to my own son…