I will admit that my first thought, after reading that someone was arrested in Yellowstone Park for kicking a bison, was that it had to be a man. Hundred percent. And it isn’t just because the average woman can’t kick as hard. A woman who kicks a bison is having a horrible day in an endless stream of horrible days of being used, and abused, and otherwise dismissed to the degree that her very existence needs to be asserted by a rash yet ineffective display of pique. And she judges her odds against the bison favorable compared to her odds against almost anyone else.
The man, on the other hand, merely needs to be drunk and think the bison is giving him the side-eye.
The bison is giving him the side-eye. That’s what they do.
Incidents of human death or injury from wild animals in Yellowstone Park are quite rare, not nearly common enough to do any real good. Many people are disinclined to think of such animals as wild. After all, there are parking lots nearby. And they had to pay $35 to get in the park through any one of five entrances, clearly defining the area. And they have cell phones and you can’t get a selfie with an animal unless you’re right close to it with your back turned.
Yet, wild they are. And although most of the wildlife in Yellowstone is shy, and perhaps accustomed to people, that does not mean it is without opinions.
Yes, the recent arrestee is a man, and yes he was drunk. And, in a development that is no surprise at all, he is an Idaho man. The Idaho Man is a close cousin to the Florida Man, without the pythons or alligators, but with the same utterly unearned sense of superiority. He’s white as hell. The Idaho Man might regard a bison herd as something taking up real estate he might otherwise use to run his cattle all over without the government’s permission. The Idaho Man is likely at any time to use the phrase “We the People” as the object of a sentence but he’s the only non-fetal People he cares about. You can take your precious prairie-chicken and shove it.
When I was much younger I made the mistake of getting extremely close to an elk in rut. It looked like a big pointy cow to me and a number of other spectators, and inasmuch as it was not only in rut but in another elk at the time, we all felt safe enough. He was busy. Still, it was not a prudent move.
Wildlife harassment by tourists is on the uptick, with social media making it more visible and, I would say, more inevitable. The YouTube beast is hungry. But bison are not stealth attackers. They usually announce their disgruntlement with snorting and stamping and, especially, tail posture. If a bison’s tail is down, it’s happy. If it’s sticking straight out the back it’s thinking you might need a little goring. If it’s straight up in the air and shaped like a question mark, it’s thinking you definitely need a little goring. If it’s more of a parenthesis, it’s going to poop. Even an Idaho man should be able to interpret this.
And bison are not the only potentially dangerous animals in the park. Even bighorn sheep have been reported to ram the occasional aggressive visitor. You pays your $35, and you takes your choice.
It’s Push v. Gore all over again.
Following the title and the photo, I was thinking “This is going to be one of those gore-nographic blogposts.”
Right on the money.
Oh give me a home
Where the buffalo roam
And the elk and the antelope play
Where an Idaho Man
Can abuse a big ram
Then shit his self as he runs away.
Vivid.
The female looks decidedly underwhelmed. “*Sigh* Okay, let’s just get this over with….”
Been there, done that.
Well. That explains how you came by that photo.
Farm animals are just as unpredictable and as likely to stomp, kick, gore or bite stupid humans.
I may have shared this story before, but it’s a good story (I think) so here it is.
Years ago I worked for a field biology research lab at Rutgers. We had a truck and the university gas site was right next to the Cook pig barn. I was pumping gas one day and looked over and there was this boar mounted on a sow.
Seems simple enough until you start working out the scale of this tableau. This was probably upwards of a thousand pound boar. He’s essentially standing upright (or at least at an angle) in order to assume the position. Which means his head is about seven feet off the ground.
What made this image more memorable was that standing behind the boar, patting him on the rump apparently for encouragement was a farm worker. I assume she was small. Her head only came up to the boar’s rump in that position. And she’s standing there in her knee boots behind a pig that outweighs her ten to one.
I had to leave before that was all over. You may have heard that pigs can go at it for long periods of time. Turns out that is true.
But if I was a boar having his way with a sow and some presumptuous upright ape was interrupting things by letting me know she was looking on, well, I think I’d be contemplating turning said human into jelly.
Hmmmm… maybe that’s actually what Pig Foot Jelly IS: a stupid human who annoyed the pig, got stompted on into jelly, and, since farm people generally abhor waste and find a use for anything, they put it in a jar and sold it to other stupid humans to use as a condiment.
Soylent green is people. So is pig foot jelly.
Or maybe turning your jelly into said human?
Ooof, that turned dark real fast!
I didn’t even know there WAS pig foot jelly. I do appreciate, Carolyn, that you didn’t think getting Idaho Man stomped on was too dark.
Idaho Man vs. Florida Man: Florida Man is more likely to be a klansman; Idaho Man is more likely to be a nazi (but for my money there’s no significant difference).
Now I wonder how we’d define all the states-men. What is Oregon Man? Plaid flannel, man-bun, sandals with socks.
The only real live bison I’ve seen were in a zoo in Adelaide, they were way off at the end of their field doing nothing much so I stopped to take photos. On MY side of the fence of course. The camera I had then didn’t have much of a zoom on it so I stood there quite a while snapping away until finally the bigger one decided I’d been there long enough and took two steps in my direction. I moved on. This was almost 30 years ago and I don’t think we still have any bison here.
We barely have them here, river. White man done stomped them out nearly altogether, and it didn’t even take too long.
Ouch. Only the Republicans are Idaho Man. We Democrats in Idaho are doing our best to change that.
Sheila? Sheila? Blink twice if you’re in trouble!
(Sings) “It’s May, It’s May. The lusty month of May. That lovely month when everyone throws self control away. It’s time to do a wretched thing or two, and make each lovely precious day one you’ll always rue.”
I think kicking a bison, or interfering with elk coitus is something you might always rue.
I wouldn’t say I *interfered.* And I had a nice long lens. He did too.
Should Dave be jealous?
He was there–did not appear to be in an elk-kicking frame of mind.
I lived in Alaska for several years, and saw some pretty stupid things done by tourists, and locals. I knew a guide working in Denali Nat’l park, who told me that once a fellow from the lower 48 wanted the tour bus driver to let his 10 year old son get off the bus and stand next to a grizzly they’d stop to gawk at in the park. Also, in Homer Alaska, last week a photographer was killed by a female moose…he had approached her new calf to take its picture.
Darwinism in action! Gotta love it! There is not nearly enough chlorine in the gene pool.
If I want to die fast I will get myself kicked into splinters by a moose.