A few notes on the meeting I attended in Regional Town last Tuesday:

We had show-and-tell again, but one of the wardens couldn't wait, showing off his wife's newest handgun (stainless steel Smith and Wesson .357 with a light trigger) in the parking lot.

Now, can you tell me why firearms that cost hundreds of dollars come in a cheap plastic case with the plastic tab locks that will break about the twentieth time you use them? (Or the first time, if it's cold enough?)

The purpose of the meeting was to go over the data for each herd, and decide what our recommendations would be for hunting seasons this coming fall. Normally we would go through antelope first, then deer, elk, moose and bighorn sheep. But anticipating some "lengthy discussions" over antelope seasons, my boss decided to start with deer seasons, since they would be simpler.

How wrong he was.

Deer took up most of the morning. Admittedly, a lot of the discussion and argument dealt with what we might need to do in 2004, not just 2003, but still it took a lot more time than he expected.

Somewhere in one of the long, drawn out debates, I made what I thought was a final point. A warden from across the table, also tired of the long discussion, remarked

"Well, he's got double rubies, so we'll take his word for it."

And, after some laughter, that was the end of that discussion.

Antelope season proposals were just as contentious as the deer, with a long debate about 50 licenses in one of my herds.

Now, in a herd of 14,000 antelope, there isn't much point in getting too worked up over just 50 licenses, more or less. A point that I made mid-way in the debate.

A warden across the table, who was holding up much of the opposing viewpoint, agreed.

"But it's the principle of the thing."

And I suppose he's right. So we argued some more.

When you walk into your meeting room, is it common to find a single bighorn sheep hair laying on the table at the spot you pick?

No, it's not common in ours, either. But I spent a fair amount of the day twirling that stiff, hollow hair in my fingers.

It's in the plastic pocket of my planner, now, alongside a small, yellow aspen leaf.

After the season proposals were set and agreed upon, we covered some regular business. Including planning the enforcement task forces for the coming year.

One warden facetiously suggested a task force to help him paint his mountain cabin.

Now, most of the other wardens are envious of the comfortable abode this person has gradually gotten built in his district. Eventually they agreed that they might find a weekend this summer where we could all come up to help him paint his cabin.

The task force was called "Paint Palace."

Most agreed to participate, but only on the condition that the paint be bright pink.

I suspect when the time comes, he will decline our assistance.

While it wasn't a topic on our agenda, considerable discussion took place on how complicated the process is for someone wanting to apply for some of our licenses from out-of-state. With me making the stand that the process wasn't too bad.

Warden won the discussion by pointing out that "These guys are just plumbers, man. They have zero rubies."

Wish you could have seen it. He held his fingers up in a little circle, and said "zero" just exactly like Zorg in The Fifth Element." And he made his point.