Leave Them Lobsters Be!

I can sort of identify with Mary Alice Workman, the Florida Keys resident who allegedly opened fire on some lobster fishermen in the canal near her home. She shot into the water and didn’t hit anyone. Said Mary Alice, “They was taking the lobster, and we’re not going to have no more lobster.”

Mary Alice’s grammar aside, I can understand being fed up by poaching. In truth, these lobster-takers were legally removing the crusty critters on a 2-day freebie imposed by the county. Trouble is, the canal becomes infested with lobster lovers for those 2 days and their frenzy just plum drove Mary Alice over the edge!

I grew up on a 50 acre patch of land and I can’t count the number of times my 5′ 3″ mother would go stomping out of the house, screaming at men (city-dwellers, most often from Hamilton) who were shooting up what was essentially our yard in pursuit of deer or rabbits. Mom’s little face would be beet red, she’d be screaming like a banshee, fearless, as she approached these fully armed morons. “But you have all this land!”, I recall one of them yelling back at her. “It’s MY *unladylike word* land!”, she’d yell back, “and I’m going to come to your back yard and start shooting at things!” The men didn’t get it. “But we only have a small yard. You have all of this land!”

No hunting signs were useless except for the hunters’ target practise. When we lost our local police force and regional forces came in, they were so slow to find a rural address, that it was useless calling them to say someone’s bullets were whizzing past our house. By the time they arrived, the hunters were long gone.

Regardless of what I think of hunting for sport (I think it’s stupid and wasteful!) the bottom line was, hunting was not allowed out there. So Mary Alice, you go girl. You may have snapped in the eyes of society, and you may be a little extreme but you’re alright with me.