Kingfishers are crazy birds. They fly erratically, have a call that can be described as a cross between an injured chipmunk and pebbles on a tin roof, and nest in holes on muddy riverbanks. Kingfishers are noisy, flighty, beautiful and funny-looking at the same time, and I love them.
I also loved Patrick McManus.
When was the last time you actually laughed out loud? For some reason, I don't seem to do it very much anymore, but I know I was often reading Patrick McManus when I did. Back in simpler times, when the world was bright-and-shiny new, my wife Helen and I would read McManus to each other while driving down the road or lying in bed. Believe me when I tell you there was some laughing out loud during those times!
Contributed photo / Larry CaseIf you don't know of McManus, shame on you. But then again, it would be so wonderful to discover him all over again and read his delightful stories for the first time!
Patrick F. McManus was born on - well, maybe it would be best to hear it from him:
I was born in an old farmhouse three miles north of Sand Point, Idaho, on August 24, 1933. There is some question about the exact day of my birth, because my father got the attending doctor drunk, and the doctor mistakenly wrote in August 25, instead of August 24, as the date on my birth certificate. That is according to my mother, she and I being the only sober ones in the house at the time. I have been rather pleased with the mistake ever since I first heard about it. Confusion is the natural environment of the humor writer, and it is best to get introduced to it as early as possible.
Can you see why I love this man's writing so much?
His father died a few years after his birth, and the family no doubt had somewhat of a Spartan existence for a while. With McManus and his mother were his sister, Patricia McManus Gass (he referred to her as "The Troll" in his stories) his grandmother (Gram, as tough a pioneer woman as you could find) and his dog Strange, a mutt of questionable ancestry and worth.
His mother taught school to support the family, and he tells of how she took him with her to class even when he was much younger than her students. This no doubt helped when, McManus claimed, he taught himself to read so he could finish stories his mother would read to the class. (Great writers are big readers.)
Part of the McManus genius was his forming of several characters from his childhood. Maybe the most beloved was his curmudgeonly old woodsman mentor, Rancid Crabtree. Among his many other attributes, Crabtree claimed he preferred not to bathe because it would wash off his "crust" that protected him from disease and other harmful things. This practice was the bane of Gram, who was no fan of Crabtree. Other favorite characters include Crazy Eddie Muldoon ("Muldoon in Love" is one of Pat's classic stories); Retch Sweeny, with whom he has many hunting and fishing adventures; and Fenton Quagmire, his finicky rich friend.
With these characters and others, McManus took us on years of adventures that sometimes left us weak with laughter. He was always humble, self-effacing and never afraid to make himself the source of a joke; in fact, he insisted on it.
He claimed for many years to have the record for number of fishing trips without a catch, and he rarely if ever brought a deer home. He was the absolute master of using his own faults and shortcomings as a hunter and fisherman to make us laugh. McManus used the hundreds of little things that make up our days afield - from digging worms for bait to the truck that leaves us stranded in the wilderness to dodging the ornery bull near a creek bank - to entertain us on his escapades.
He wrote for many years on the back page of Field & Stream magazine and then for Outdoor Life. I always thought, even though both are fine outdoors magazines, that a lot of people were buying them just to read McManus. Most of his magazine articles made their way into book collections, and if you don't have any of his books, you better get with it. From "A Fine and Pleasant Misery," "They Shoot Canoes Don't They?," "The Grasshopper Trap" and "Never Sniff a Gift Fish" (to name only a few), the reader has acres of laughter to look forward to.
If you haven't read any of his work and you intend to, I really envy you.
So what is the deal with the kingfisher? In "How I Got This Way," McManus gave us the story "Letter from a Kingfisher." He tells of his relationship with a pesky kingfisher he spends all summer trying to get a picture of, though the bird always flys away at the last minute. The next year, when McManus opens up his cabin for the summer, he looks for the kingfisher but finds well, maybe you should read it for yourself. I happen to know a kingfisher like the one he encountered.
As I type this, it is painfully obvious to me that I am doing a very poor job of trying to describe McManus and his writing to you. I guess you will have to read his works for yourself. To anyone who has read his wonderful ramblings and also seen some of my meager offerings, I'm sure it is obvious he influenced my writing. I would have to be the biggest liar on the planet to deny that.
Pat McManus died on April 11, 2018, and yes, I cried a little when I heard it and don't give a dang who knows it. We are forever diminished by his passing, but like all great men, he left us a wonderful legacy in his stories.
Find some of his books, get them in your hands and read them.
But only if you want to laugh out loud.
"The Trail Less Traveled" is written by Larry Case, who lives in Fayette County, W.Va. You can write to him at larryocase3@gmail.com.