Uncle NoPass is always excited to go on what has turned into a annual rabbit hunt in Wedowee, Alabama. It’s homecoming, of sorts, for my eighty two year old uncle since he was raised on a dirt farm about 12 miles east of Wedowee. He says that there are more rabbits, bigger rabbits, and the rabbits are easier to shoot. He neglects to mention that there are more hills, steeper hills and taller hills and that there are more briars, sharper briars and taller briars mixed in with the planted pines that are planted thicker than the bars on a jail cell. Not that I have any experience with jail cells. At least here in the States. The Mediterranean is a different story and even that was a bum rap. While I might have been instrumental in starting the bar fight that quickly escalated out of control, I didn’t burn the taxi during the riot.
But I digress.