The Indoctrination Is Complete.

Man, do I love the first week in September. 

The Dove Opener -- as has been well documented by my blogging peers -- is upon us.  I've been too busy to write about it -- and it hasn't been the ridulous dove orgy that our whitewing trip in Texas that is was last fall.  But this one was as good, if not better.  Dad and son, the coaching, the cameraderie, the time together.  Lots of gunpowder spent (funpowder, as Jack aptly named it), and plenty of birds to show for it.

It's also football season, though, and Jack experienced his first Big Red game last Saturday.  And while There Is No Place Like Nebraska, this was an early, nonconference tune up -- like dove hunting.  The big birds, and the B1G teams still lie ahead.

But all is right in Scampwalkerville.  He's asking me about hunting and Huskers, and how I reconcile the two on a September, October, or November Saturday afternoon.  And after 30 years of chasing the same sirens, I have no answer. 

But if that's all my son is worried about, I think things are going to be just fine.