Okay, it's past tomorrow and I clearly haven't written any more about Knob Creek. I know you're not all up for excuses, but, basically, as soon as I landed in Atlanta on Sunday I was wisked away to the Convention Center, where I spent all afternoon signing autographs at the National Cable show. Honest.
There's a certain surreal aspect to going from Knob Creek with my head still ringing to The Outdoor Channel's amazingly un-PC booth right across from the Cartoon Network and just down the aisle from Hustler TV (slogan for the year: "Harder Than Ever"). Or maybe that's Penthouse TV. I was invited to the Playboy TV party tonight, but I was afraid I might develop post-nasal drip from being close to all that silicone, or it might reach critical mass and engulf us all in some hellish conflagration of exploding bosoms, shreddy cheesy tank tops, Beanie-Weenies and old man pajamas.
Anyhow, The Outdoor Channel booth, which features stuffed animals and a Laser Shot shooting range with a shotgun and a 1911, is one of the runaway hits of the show. I'm apparently very popular with the guys at Sprint, so much so that we're talking about streaming SHOOTING GALLERY to cellphones...would that be cool or what?
I'm really bummed that I'm not able to cruise the convention floor and snag all that neat schwagg. Speed Channel was giving away autographed skateboard decks; Fox News had a way cool expensive red bag; Disney has Scobby-Do beany babies, which fellow host Michael Waddell from REALTREE ROADTRIPS raced to pick up. I thought all that turkey hunting had started to turn his brain to poultry food, but he quickly explained that the Scoobys were for his kids...yeah, I believe that. I did go by the Food Network in the hopes that they'd be auctioning off Rachael Ray, but no dice. I guess they're holding her back for the National Association of Broadcasters' convention.
Waddell's truck was broken into despite his taking the extreme precaution of giving a homeless guy a six-pack of beer to watch the truck, which I agreed should have done the trick. The felons left everything alone except for $4 in change in the ashtray. In the good news department, Waddell reports that he's been contacted by the sainted Martha Stewart (again, this is true) about her coming on a turkey hunt and cooking up the bird. I told him I figured Martha was working on survival skills for her next gig in the slam, and mabe he could teach her how to make a shiv from plastic spoon.
I'm camped out with Waddell, my pal Kim Rhode, Scott Linden from Cast & Blast — which I told him should be about shooting fish — and Rachel Phelps, who hosts America's Outdoor Journal. All in all, a good, quirky group. I am, however, starting to get a little batty after a whole day of hearing a medley of cartoon themes, most notably The Flintstones — "They're a modern Stone Age family..." Kill me! Kill me! — from across the aisle. Rachel said that was nothing compared to hearing herself discuss sturgeon all day long on a video loop next to her signing booth. I'm willing to grant that hearing anyone — even Rachel, who's vastly entertaining — discuss sturgeon for any length of time might be classified as the fishy equivalent of Chinese water torture.
Tomorrow I plan to sneak off and visit the Anime Channel to see whether I can convince anyone there to help me finance a visit to the U.S. from Gunsmith Cats author Kenichi Sonoda. I would get my picture taken with the women of Hustler, except that I don't want to catch anything.