DEER Sue:

I left for work early this morning as the meteorologists – in all of their infinite wisdom – on the local news stations said we were under winter weather advisory and to expect freezing drizzle all the way to the city. Driving in the darkness most of the way, I tuned in to one of the liveliest local radio stations. Perfect timing, because the DJs had taken a call from “Sue,” who isn’t a native to Wisconsin.

Sue felt the need to call in and complain about her neighbor who had gone deer hunting this season and he was apparently still hanging his deer from the ceiling in the garage. Sue had asked him to keep his garage door closed so that they wouldn’t have a view of the inside of his garage from their living room window.  The real problem, Sue stated, was the fact that she didn’t want to have to explain to her school-aged son why there was a dead deer across the street. She said that she didn’t feel the need to explain where meat comes from, especially something as gross as deer meat, as that didn’t come from a grocery store. She stated the meat in grocery stores are raised on farms where they are specifically raised as food animals.  As if that makes it more humane! Sue wanted her son to think his meat comes from grocery stores! Also, Sue didn’t know why hunters wore blaze orange: “It doesn’t look good on anyone; I don’t know why they wear it. It’s not like the deer care what color they wear.” The radio DJs then had to explain twice to Sue why it was important for the hunters to wear blaze orange: “No, it’s not so the deer see the hunters, Sue; it’s so the hunters see each other.” “Why, Sue? So they don’t shoot each other.” (Sidebar: by this time I was swearing so loud at the idiocy that I was hearing I had almost swerved off the road and run over a compact car).

So, here’s to Kate Gosselin – er, I mean Samantha…er “Sue:”

Listen honey, I know blaze orange might not be in your color wheel, but I think you’d better rethink explaining to your child where meat comes from if you’re going to be evolved enough to eat it. Whether it’s caught, trapped, hunted, or farm-raised—and then hit over the head with a big bat to kill it, like in some big slaughterhouses—the meat all ends up in the grocery store for you and your pudgy little family to overindulge yourselves on (with tater tots). Oh, and Sue, please don’t tell me you actually think red meat comes from red animals, too.