Don and I just returned from Safari Club International's 2010 convention in Reno. We flew down on Thursday night and spent all day Friday and Saturday wandering around the gargantuan Reno/Sparks Convention Center, which was filled to the brim with everything for hunters: safaris for every critter in every corner of the world, $110,000 firearms on display, wildlife artwork selling for $15,000 to $80,000, and priceless taxidermy works of art.
It was like a giant "home show" for well healed hunters. However, the majority of the 25,000 attendees were sort of like us...tire kickers who admired and dreamed and may occasionally give in to purchasing a "reasonable" hunt somewhere like Africa or New Zealand. The rationale for booking a hunt, of course, is that this would be a
once-in-a-lifetime experience. The joke is that anyone who's gone on one good professional hunt gets hooked and must do it again...and again.
Nonetheless, Don kept his hands in his pockets on this trip and was happy just to finally see what this marvelous convention was all about. There were sufficient "girl things" for me to look at too, like jewelry, furs, fancy English hunting clothes, and sculptures. So he'd go one way in the huge exhibition hall and I'd go another, agreeing to meet every three hours. Neither of us got bored!.
The main event was Saturday night, when President George W. Bush was to be the guest speaker at the gala banquet. For us, however, the main event was Saturday afternoon when the President made a quiet appearance at the exhibition hall (accompanied by a platoon of secret service, of course). I'd received intel on the previous day that this was going to happen, so I was ready at 2pm when the Secret Service marched in and fanned out to their positions. I followed the main group of them, and within 15 minutes President Bush made his entrance into the building, on foot, and started working the crowd. Don and I had a few close encounters early on, but seemed to always miss being in position for a handshake. We persisted, however, and eventually parked ourselves outside the Beretta tent, where we knew he'd be headed.
When he finally emerged, we were there, close enough to the rope line that we could extend our hands through the crowd to shake his hand and offer encouraging words. The crowd reverberated with shouts of, "We miss you, Mr. President" and "God bless you" and "We need you back" and "Thank you for everything." But as he shook my hand and began to glide on to the next, I shouted,
"Mr. President, how are the dogs?"
He stopped. He looked in my direction. His face lit up as he chuckled and said, "
THANK YOU for asking about them! They're fine, but Barney is missing the pampering he got a few years ago with all the people around him, and he's having trouble adjusting to being a city dog in Dallas now. He's doing all right, though." He winked and started to move on, but then stopped and looked at me again and said,
"Thank you for asking about them!"
This was a dog person, first and foremost. I knew there was nothing I could ask him at that moment that he'd rather talk about. At the end of his day, his term, or his life, the dogs are his soft spots. We understand that perfectly.
That evening we accidentally bumped into (literally) our close Safari Club friends from central Washington--Glenn and Cherry Rasmussen, and Arnold and Susan Lockbeam. In a crowd of 5,000 banquet attendees, we somehow ended up in line right behind them...and got to spend an enjoyable evening at the same table. President Bush gave the keynote address and was splendid. He was relaxed, happy, articulate, witty and inspirational.
And he did it all without a teleprompter!
When the banquet ended, Don and I returned to The Nugget, our host hotel, and rendezvoused with my old Nashville chum Doug Greene (aka "Ranger Doug" from cowboy singing group "Riders in the Sky"). Doug and the group had done a show that evening at the Nugget, so we met him and his wife Carolyn after the show, had a drink, and caught up on all the news about mutual music industry friends from when we both lived there in the late '70s.
The whole weekend was one for the books, with at least three unexpected surprises:
1. Meeting President Bush and exchanging meaningful words with him.
2. Meeting up with Rasmussens and Lockbeams at the marvelous banquet.
3. Meeting up with Ranger Doug for the nightcap.
All this would be a hard act to follow, but we're going to try in about 10 days when we leave for Hawaii!
