A sportsman’s wonderland Dreaming of gear left and right

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At this time of year the Christmas spirit abounds everywhere, from the seasonal office party to the live manger scene and holiday pageantry at local churches. Santa can be found at every mall taking requests and photos with youngsters, and Salvation Army bells and buckets help spread good will to those who need it most.

Nothing purveys the warm feelings of the season like the traditional exchange of gifts between friends and loved ones. Just as the three wise men brought wondrous gifts from afar to celebrate the baby in the manger, we carry on this joyous tradition. Although the gala event of trimming the tree and opening gifts on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning has always been geared especially for children, many of us baby boomers have a lot of inner child remaining.

As a group, it’s safe to say outdoorsmen are big kids at heart, and perennially excited about what wonderful sporting goods are awaiting under the tree to be opened with much ribbon ripping and paper pulling. Sportsmen make wish lists, visit local sporting goods stores and wander aisles wistfully, and constantly peruse outdoor catalogs with eager eyes and longing sighs.

Sometimes we even daydream about the items we most desire to unwrap on Wednesday morning. With that in mind, and with extreme apologies to Felix Bernard and Dick Smith, the composer and lyricist of “Winter Wonderland,” I offer the following heartfelt sentiment. If you can’t remember the tune, wait until the song plays on the radio and read along with the music.

Cash register ring, are you listening

In my eyes, tears are glistening

It’s a wonderful sight

Outdoor gear left and right

Shopping in a sportman’s wonderland.

Gone is the green grass

Here to stay is the snow mass

Autumn’s memories bring smiles

As I wander the aisles

Shopping for my outdoor wonderland

In this store, the guns are in the basement

On the top floor fishing gear abounds

A clerk says “Can I help you” I say “Yes, man”

Just aim me where the salmon flies are found.

Before long, I’d bought a pistol

A salmon rod, handmade in Bristol

Two new duck calls, 12 decoys for fall

Shopping in a sportsman’s wonderland

All of the aisles, are lined with tinsel and lights

And the vast display of outdoor gear is a wondrous sight

Hours pass, and I’m still shopping

Floor after floor, without stopping

Knives, hats, clothes and reels

Boots, gloves, lines and creels

More great toys than most grown boys could stand.

Later on, I bought a shotgun

A canoe and paddle, for some real fun

A new rifle scope

Books and anchor rope

Shopping here makes Christmas truly grand.

In the foyer packages are mounting

Clerks are lugging gifts from all about

The manager says no more checks from you Sir

And each and every charge card is maxed out.

All at once, I awaken

I sit up, forlorn and shaken

It’s all been a dream

Sad news it would seem

I was snoozing in a sportsmen’s wonderland.

Down the stairs, I did wander

Spied the tree over yonder

All the gifts from my dreams

Were ‘neath the bows, it would seem

Santa too, is an outdoor sporting man!

Here’s hoping old St. Nick finds his way to your house Tuesday night with his sack full of goodies, and one or two much-dreamed about outdoor items end up under the bows of your tree. More importantly, I wish you and yours health and the opportunity to share the holiday with family and friends, and to revel in the true meaning of the season.

Merry Christmas.

Outdoor feature writer Bill Graves can be reached at graves@umpi.maine.edu