Today is my dad’s 66th birthday. Sometimes I think he scratches his head at the gear and fancy stuff needed to kill ducks these days. This morning we left the surface drives at home and took out his old hunting rig that he bought new in ‘78. Me, my dad, my grandpa, and my brother rode down the Sabine river in the same rig one cold Dec morning in ’84 on the day I killed my first duck. Different times these days.