#52in52 Week 42: Corey Stratton, Oklahoma’s Deadpool

#52in52 Week 42: Corey Stratton, Oklahoma’s Deadpool

I recently wrote that not every blog tells a story.  This one does, but not in the usual way.  It’s a story in photos.

It was Saturday, October 21st.  Arby’s was having their national, single-day roll-out of a venison sandwich.  Corey, who I affectionately call Deadpool, agreed to participate in the culinary experiment alongside me.

 

I first met Deadpool a couple of years ago at a local pop culture convention called SoonerCon.  He was dressed as Deadpool.  We were at an after hours dance party having cocktails and goofing off.  He and I shared a silly dance or two, then went out to the lobby to cool off.  He recognized me from SUPER! BitCon.  We chatted about both conventions and quickly bonded.  He’s been a friend ever since and we’ve travelled numerous times to various conventions together.

 

I drove to my local Arby’s at just before 10AM.  I was first in line.  Perhaps I underestimated the potential demand.  I purchased our sandwiches, threw them in a cooler, and waited for Corey to text me that he was awake.  Two hours later the text came in.  I loaded up in my pickup and drove to Wellston, Oklahoma.

I met Corey at his home, where he stays with his grandparents.  He was rigging up fishing poles for us.  I bounced on the trampoline.

We loaded up the poles, tackle, and boat and headed out toward Davenport, Oklahoma.  We opened our sandwiches on the way.  Somehow we had gotten stiffed — only one was venison.  The other was some kind of roast beef and cheese abomination several inches thick.  I’m already on a blood pressure medication.  The last thing I need in my life is a half pound of salt-cured meat.  So we decided to split both sandwiches between us.

That greyish abomination was our lunch.  It tasted about how it looked.

As we ate and we drove we talked about any manner of things a young twenty-something and a middle-aged thirty-something might discuss.  And then a squirrel ran out into the rain-slicked road.

Fortunately, Deadpool was clear of mind enough to suggest we stop and collect the harvest.  We found a Target sack that would suffice.

We arrived at the pond as the sky began to clear for a time.  We slid the boat down the bank and climbed in.  But we found that the trolling motor was nonfunctional, so we climbed back out and just cast from the shore.  After catching a small bass Deadpool returned to the pond, we decided to hop the fence and fish around the bend.

On the way, I found a turtle.

Then I caught a decent-sized bass.  Deadpool caught one, too.

It was a lazy, but relaxed sort of day.  We loaded up and meandered back to Wellston, with an unplanned ice cream stop on the way.  I fried up the fish for dinner when I returned home in Oklahoma City.  Relaxed.  Refreshed.  Exhausted.

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