Happy, Happy, Happy (21 page)

I told everyone, “From this day forward, wake me up if the president of the United States or Lynyrd Skynyrd calls!”

More than anything else, the
Duckmen
videos put a face to our company. I had a long beard and so did most of the other original Duckmen—Mac Owen, Dane Jennings, and W. E. “Red Dawg” Phillips. Red Dawg was the first one to paint his face in
the blind so the ducks wouldn’t see him. He couldn’t grow a long beard like the rest of us, so he figured he’d paint his face to look different. After a while, I figured out paint was the best way to camouflage our white faces from the ducks. Nothing stands out like a white surrender flag in a duck blind more than a white man’s face! Now everyone in my blind is required to wear face paint. People grew to love our DVDs; I think there was a shock factor involved, and people wanted to see what the crazy Cajuns in Louisiana would do next! In 2012, we released
Resurrection: Duckmen 16
.

The hunting DVDs ended up being a lot like our duck calls—we didn’t hit a home run in our first at bat, but we kept going back up to the plate. Eventually, the hunting DVDs caught on and became popular enough to help Willie land us a show on Outdoor Channel, which led to even bigger things with
Duck Dynasty
on A&E. Even though Duck Commander faced difficult times and what seemed liked insurmountable obstacles, we stayed the course and never gave up. I’ve always believed that if we did what was morally and ethically right, while continuing to steadfastly believe in what we were doing, we’d end up okay in the end. As long as we gave our best, continued to build products we believed in, and never strayed from God’s purpose for us, I knew Duck Commander would find a way to persevere. It’s what the Robertson family has always seemed to do.

Rule No. 11 for Living Happy, Happy, Happy

Suck the Head of a Crawfish (You’ll Want to Do It Again and Again)

A
fter living more than six decades on Earth, I have reached the conclusion that ducks are the most protected species on the planet. In the United States of America, ducks are the most protected and overly regulated entity in history. It’s amazing how many rules and regulations our government puts on duck hunters. (If you don’t believe me, check with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s website for all the up-to-date information.)

To even hunt ducks, I have to begin on a precise day at an exact minute, which is pretty difficult for a man who has never even owned a watch! I can’t fire a shot until thirty minutes before the sun comes up, so I have to constantly look to see when the sun is going to rise and then deduct thirty minutes to determine when I can fire my first shot. Of course, the sunrise and sunset
are constantly changing, depending on the rotation of Earth. But I always have to be aware of when the sun is going to come up because there might be a game warden sitting out there with a watch, waiting to write me an expensive ticket.

The U.S. government also dictates that I can have only three shells in my shotgun at once, not four or five, which would be a lot more efficient. I also have to have a precise kind of metal shot in my shells. It can’t be lead; it has to be steel so it’s not harmful to the ducks or the environment.

Where I live in eastern Louisiana, we are allowed to hunt ducks for sixty days each year. This past season, the first split of duck season started on November 17, 2012, and lasted sixteen days. After a two-week hiatus, duck hunting commenced again on December 15, 2012, and lasted forty-four days, until January 27. The government also tells me how many ducks I can kill—no more than six per day. But I also have to know what species of ducks I kill—I can’t shoot more than four mallards, two pintails, three wood ducks, etc.—and I have to know the sex of the ducks whose lives I’ve ended. If I wing a duck—shoot it down and cripple it, but don’t kill it—I have to make a reasonable attempt to find it or I’m in violation of federal law. I’m telling you: it’s the rule book of all rule books when it comes to duck hunting. Unborn babies don’t have as much protection in this country!

Here’s the government’s most silly rule: if I have a good day
in the blind and want to give my buddy or a neighbor a few ducks to eat for dinner, I can’t do it without documenting what I gave them. I have to write down my hunting license number, date of birth, legal name, physical address, and telephone number, and then specify how many ducks I’m giving them, what kind of ducks I’m giving them, and what sex of ducks I’m giving away. It’s just one thing after the other when it comes to duck hunting.

Here’s another dilemma: the law says I can kill six ducks per day for sixty days in the Mississippi Flyway. I was never very good in math, but I believe that comes out to three hundred and sixty ducks per season. But another federal law says I can only have a maximum of twelve ducks in my possession at once. Okay, let’s see now, one law says if I start on opening day and kill six every day, I can shoot down three hundred and sixty ducks in a season. But the other law says I can’t have more than twelve in my deep freezer, so the government apparently wants me to eat ’em as soon as I shoot ’em. Now, we like to eat duck more than most people, but the average duck weighs about one pound when it’s dressed. The government expects me to eat three hundred sixty pounds of duck in sixty days? What am I supposed to do with the ducks that I can’t eat? Feed them to my dogs?

If I’m ever elected president of the United States—and you never know—the first thing I’m going to do is downsize the Department of the Interior. I don’t know of any politician who has
ever said he would do that. I’d also make sure we have plenty of nesting ground for ducks, so I’d work with our friends in Canada, where most of the ducks are born. I’d take all the money we’re sending to the Middle East, where we’re trying to pay people to be our friends, and divert it to Canada and earmark it to help raise ducks. We don’t need to be sending money to the Middle East; too many of those people are mean. The Canadians are already our friends, and Canada would be number one on my list for foreign aid. So when I’m elected president, we’re going to lower taxes and make sure we give the Canadians truckloads of cash to raise mallard ducks. The American people are tired of pork-barrel spending; let’s spend some money on ducks!

If I’m ever elected president of the United States—and you never know—the first thing I’m going to do is downsize the Department of the Interior.

The bottom line is the U.S. government doesn’t have to be so strict about duck hunting. In my opinion, it only needs to educate people about what you can shoot and what you can’t shoot. It’s a great sport, but it would be even greater if there weren’t so many rules and regulations.

Of course, I’ve always been of the opinion that I’ve been given permission from headquarters to shoot and kill whatever animals I want. According to Genesis, God instructed Noah to build an ark to save himself, his family, and a remnant of all the
world’s animals after God decided to destroy the world because of mankind’s evil deeds. God instructed Noah to build the “ark of cypress wood; make rooms in it and coat it with pitch inside and out.” God told Noah to “bring into the ark two of all living creatures, male and female, to keep them alive with you. Two of every kind of bird, of every kind of animal and of every kind of creature that moves along the ground will come to you to be kept alive.”

After Noah did what God told him to do, the floodgates of the heavens opened on the seventeenth day of the second month, and rain fell for forty days and forty nights. The earth was flooded for one hundred and fifty days. As Genesis 7:23 tells us, “Every living thing on the face of the earth was wiped out; people and animals and the creatures that move along the ground and the birds were wiped from the earth. Only Noah was left, and those with him in the ark.”

When the floodwaters finally receded, Noah and his family left the ark. According to Genesis 9:1–3: “Then God blessed Noah and his sons, saying to them, ‘Be fruitful and increase in number and fill the earth. The fear and dread of you will fall on all the beasts of the earth, and on all the birds in the sky, on every creature that moves along the ground, and on all the fish in the sea; they are given into your hands. Everything that lives and moves about will be food for you. Just as I gave you the green plants, I now give you everything.”

Now, I’m not a man of great intellectual depth, but it sounds to me like God Almighty has said we can pretty much rack and stack anything that swims, flies, or walks, which I consider orders from headquarters. I have permission from the Almighty to shoot whatever I want! Of course, I’ll follow whatever rule or regulation the government puts in place. My days as an outlaw have long been over.

I really wonder if the U.S. government has any idea of the cost and work it takes to get ducks to fly to my land in the first place. At last count, we had fifty-four duck blinds on about eight hundred acres of our land. As Duck Commander grew and became more profitable through the years, Kay and I had a little bit of money to invest, and we decided to buy land. What I wanted was something I could feel, touch, and stand on—something tangible. When the stock market collapsed a few years ago, a lot of the young bucks came to me crying about all the money they lost on Wall Street. I never could figure it out. They said their money was in a brokerage account they could see on a computer, but then it was gone. Where did the money go? It didn’t disappear. Someone had to take it. Where is it? That’s why I invest in something tangible like land—no one can take it from me.