Well I’m driving to a meeting this morning, and the morning talk guys on the radio news channel are more annoying than normal, so I decide that it is a perfect opportunity to practice my duck talking. Just happen to have the lanyard with my call right there in the cupholder too, imagine that.
I should tell you that my bedside book right now is a collection of short duck hunting stories. I fall asleep reading about guys who “raised the call to his lips and proceeded to call them in, sounding like a willing mallard hen reading from the menu at Le Maison”… wow! Lines like that are really inspiring. I want to be able to call like that. Right now, I sound more like a 5th grader with a terrible head cold… I’m as likely to call in a school nurse as a flock of ducks. I need to practice. That’s why the call is in the cupholder of the truck, where I won’t bother anyone. I’d never practice at home… I hate it when my sweetie laughs at me.
So I turn off the radio and reach down to grab the call. Cup my hand around it, bring it to my lips and let ‘em have it. Hey, this works pretty good. Bring it to my lips again, and drive right by the local cop as he pulls up to the main road. Oh hell, he’s seen me now. I’ll bet he thinks it’s a bong. Crap! I never noticed how much these things look like bongs before! I keep looking in the rear view, as the cop pulls out on the street behind me and starts moving up. You know that heart pound you get when you know you’re not guilty but it might have “looked suspicious”? I imagine I can just hear the cop asking himself, “should I pull this old grey-haired guy with the suit over for the bong, or should I wait for a big cloud of smoke first?”
But this is an Idaho cop. He pulls up beside me, sees me quacking away on a duck call, gives me a smile and a wave, then goes around me. I love it here. And a few more practice sessions, I might start sounding like a willing mallard hen, with a horrible head cold.

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