Memories of Bill

First in a series of however many I can remember.

Maybe 20 years ago, my brother shared with me that he had gone duck hunting. (I think he was hanging out with clients, or potential clients.) I was slightly horrified. Not that I really have anything against hunting: I'm a meat eater, and I believe that if you eat meat you can't be against hunting, at least hunting that is as humane as possible and hunting that is for the purpose of eating the meat. But hunters are certain types of people, I felt, perhaps erroneously in retrospect, the kind who can watch an animal die without sadness. I didn't think my brother was one of them.

I asked, taken aback, "You shot ducks?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Bill responded, "I shot at ducks."