Old Yellar

[jamesq]

Last week at archery practice I met old Yellar. A crusty old guy who decided to sit with us even though he wasn't SCAdian at all. He'd get along better with the bow hunters, except I think he's probably already pissed them off.

He was limping though, so he might just have wanted to sit on the side of the range nearest the 20 yard targets.

He's got some personality flaws that do not ingratiate him. First, he talks non-stop, about himself. Second, he gets pissy if you ignore him or try to change the subject. I almost wish CT was around so I could push them at each other.

Last week he was shooting at the 20 yard targets, but he was trying to get his arrows as close to the seam between two of the butts as he could. Think two 1x1x1 meter blocks of foam used to stop the arrows. Each butt is made up of two of these stacked beside each other.

Now this is not the smartest thing you could do. If you actually hit the seam, your arrow could sink all the way in between the two butts, leaving you with nothing to grab to pull it out. This is unlikely as the butts are pretty tight against each other and it would take a considerable force to do it. Also there's the question of why - I mean we've got a variety of actual targets that we can stick to the butts.

I think the old geezer just likes to be contrary.

Anyway, I was talking to him and he told me what he was doing (aiming at the space between the butts). So when it came time for us to put up our own targets, I moved another target out of the way to make room. This is completely unremarkable and we do it all the time. Turns out though that I moved a target that Old Yellar wasn't actually using. He watched me while I did this and I didn't hear a peep out of him.

So he waits a half an hour, then goes and complains to the Archery Center staff. B, one of the staff members then tells me about it with an admonishment to be more careful. So I apologize to the guy and tell him I'll be more careful (which will consist of me making sure he's not around when I put up the targets). On the bright side, B had a "I have to do this, but I don't want to" attitude about the whole thing.

I really dislike being put into that situation with the Archery Center staff, mostly because they have never warmed up to me, so I fell like they're waiting for an excuse to kick my ass out. Needless to say, I try to be on my best behavior with them.

So what the hell was that really about? I don't think it had anything to do with the targets. I think he didn't like the fact that I wasn't paying enough attention to him so he looked for an excuse to get me into trouble. There were literally dozens of similar targets on the butts he could have used. Plus, if he really had his heart set on that particular target, all he had to do was tell me and I'd have moved down one.

None of that occurred to me last week. It took an incident this week for me to put it together.

Once again, Old Yellar is hanging around with us SCAdians. No doubt because he's decided he he can sit any damn place he chooses. Once again he's talking the ear off of anyone who'll listen.

The line is shooting and so is he, except he's standing two feet behind everyone else on the line. The line exists for a reason - it's so forward archers don't get shot by the rear archers.

"You know, you really should shoot on the line instead of behind it"
"Oh well, I'm not competing with anyone else, I'm competing with myself"

I took this to mean, he wasn't interested in a precisely 20 yard range.

"First, that's not why the rule exists. It's so you don't shoot anyone in the back of the head. And it doesn't matter how good a shot you are because a random person beside you doesn't necessarily know that. Plus, accidents happen no matter how good a shot you are."

As far as I know he complied, but he spent the next half hour glowering at me. Fine, I've already decided I don't like the guy, so his opinion isn't a high priority.

Later, garething's daughter K walks up to me with her bow (she got a brand new, and fairly decent, bow for Christmas). She had been practicing for about an hour and now she wanted to quit and go play with the other kids at the range. She wanted me to un-string her bow for her, which I did. She wandered off to get her remaining equipment put away.

"Is that your kid?", asks Old Yellar
"No, it's my buddy's kid"
Thinking she's still my responsibility, he continues, "Well she's not supposed to be on the range unsupervised."
"She's not unsupervised. Her father is right there", I say pointing at garething.

His attempt at giving me shit thwarted, he skulks off. A little while later he packs up his stuff and leaves.

I suspect he'll be there next week too and he'll try to get my goat again. My plan is to ignore him as well as I can and hope he goes away.

Comments

[garething.livejournal.com]

I was thinking of him as Deranged Lunatic Who Won't Shut Up, but Old Yellar works fine... If he says anything more about K, let me know and I'll deal with it.

[hislittlekitty.livejournal.com]

I was trying to make archery this week, but I was just too sore from my shot to consider leaving the house again.

[jamesq]

Old yellar had a happy ending!

[zera82.livejournal.com]

I recall someone with a longbow at the 20 yard range. He was behind the line about one person over from me to my right. Was that him?

[jamesq]

That depends, was it the wrinkled old coot that was sitting at our table?

[zera82.livejournal.com]

The dude at the end of the 20 yard table at the case rack end? Yeah I think it was him.

Ouch!

[http://users.livejournal.com/-grog-/]

"Oh well, I'm not competing with anyone else, I'm competing with myself"

He may well be - depends on how many of him are in the room...