Speaker 1: Welcome to This Country Life. I'm your host, Brent Reeves
Speaker 1: from coon hunting to trot lining and just general country living.
Speaker 1: I want you to stay a while as I share
Speaker 1: my stories and the country skills that will help you
Speaker 1: beat the system. This Country Life is proudly presented as
Speaker 1: part of Meat Eaters Podcast Network, bringing you the best
Speaker 1: outdoor podcast the airways have to offer. All right, friends,
Speaker 1: pull you up a chair or drop that tailgate. I
Speaker 1: think I got a thing or two and teach you
Speaker 1: messing with critters. We are a curious species. That curiosity
Speaker 1: fuels the desire to find out what's on the other
Speaker 1: side of the mountain, the river, the ocean, and ultimately
Speaker 1: the universe. Unfortunately, it also makes us wonder, what do
Speaker 1: you reckon that sleeping tiger will do? If I've pokem
Speaker 1: with this, I said we were curious and not smart.
Speaker 1: It's all about messing with critics this week. But first,
Speaker 1: I'm going to tell you a story. Hurricane Katrina was
Speaker 1: a Category five hurricane. The cost of lives and loss
Speaker 1: is still being felt today, and I was in charge
Speaker 1: of a group of highly motivated individuals I had brought
Speaker 1: from the Union County Sheriff's Office in Elderde, Arkansas on
Speaker 1: a mutual aid mission supporting Louisiana Sheriff's Association. We were
Speaker 1: allocated to the Jefferson pair of Sheriff's Office initially, then
Speaker 1: after the initial chaos immediately following the storms, we moved
Speaker 1: across Lake Pont Train with the Saint Tammany pair of
Speaker 1: Sheriff's Office. Slight El, Louisiana would be our home for
Speaker 1: a few weeks to come. It was a desperate time
Speaker 1: for a lot of folks and us included. The conditions
Speaker 1: were poor, stress and danger were high, and ships were
Speaker 1: long and unended. But when it would eventually end, we
Speaker 1: all had homes and families to go home to. A
Speaker 1: lot of the local officers who we were serving alongside
Speaker 1: they weren't that fortunate, but our mission was clear. We
Speaker 1: were front site, focused on the stolen order and a
Speaker 1: chaotic mess of lawlessness and devastation. A week after we'd
Speaker 1: relocated to Slide Done, we started doing marine patrols and
Speaker 1: we were teamed up with some Alabama National guardsmen and
Speaker 1: I was assigned two of Alabama's finest specialist lord and
Speaker 1: private clerk. We were running Big Bay boats that were
Speaker 1: part of the Sheriff's Office fleet, and our main mission
Speaker 1: was to patrol along the banks the Lake pont train,
Speaker 1: keeping an eye on the property and houses that were
Speaker 1: left and forcing the curfew to try and curb the looting.
Speaker 1: By this time, almost everything could set it down pretty well,
Speaker 1: and our calls for action were few and far between.
Speaker 1: Down on the water now. The one thing that hadn't
Speaker 1: slowed down was the duty. Twelve hour shifts from sundown
Speaker 1: to sun up. They can be long and long time
Speaker 1: for a bunch of folks that have been in the
Speaker 1: thick of it for weeks at a time. The calls
Speaker 1: went from stacked up one behind the other to almost
Speaker 1: zero around the lake homes and the condos and the marinas.
Speaker 1: It was boring. It was necessary, but it was boring,
Speaker 1: like we need to figure out something to do to
Speaker 1: pass the time while we patrolled amongst the floating logs
Speaker 1: lumbered alligators. Alligators, that's something we can do. Let's make
Speaker 1: a contest to see which patrol boat can find and
Speaker 1: photograph the biggest gator. That was fun for about two nights.
Speaker 1: Then it got to be an argument over who saw
Speaker 1: the biggest one because the majority of the time we
Speaker 1: were comparing photographs of glowing eyes and gaiterorheads and how
Speaker 1: you going to sell that? Aregu well? I had a solution.
Speaker 1: We all met just before dark at the marina to
Speaker 1: link up with our guardsmen from Alabama. Now there I
Speaker 1: informed everyone that what we were going to do to
Speaker 1: settle once and for all whose gator was biggest. We
Speaker 1: had a twelve hour shift and if the call volume
Speaker 1: stayed low while we patrolled our sectors, we were also
Speaker 1: going to catch the biggest gator. We could let a
Speaker 1: tape measure beside it and see who won. Now we'd
Speaker 1: all watch Steve Irwin catch him on TV. How hard
Speaker 1: could it be and what could possibly go wrong? Everyone
Speaker 1: thought it was a great idea. We were doing team
Speaker 1: building with our counterparts from the Yellowhammer State, blowing off
Speaker 1: some steam, taking a break after some long days and
Speaker 1: weeks of seeing the worst of mother nature. See in
Speaker 1: twelve hours, chumps was the last thing I said before
Speaker 1: we all divided up. An hour or so into our
Speaker 1: patrol assignment, we started seeing the sized gators we were
Speaker 1: after big ones. Lord and Clark made a catch pole
Speaker 1: out of some floating lumber and repurposed wire. One end
Speaker 1: was attached to the end of the pole and formed
Speaker 1: a loop that we could slip over the gators snout,
Speaker 1: pull it tight, keeping his mouth closed, and then haul
Speaker 1: his behind in the boat for a measurement or picture.
Speaker 1: After that, we'd cut him loose to go back to
Speaker 1: doing what gators do. But the big ones, they don't
Speaker 1: get big being dumb, and they don't get big by
Speaker 1: letting folks lay their mits on them. Time after time
Speaker 1: we'd slip up on a qualified candidate, only to have
Speaker 1: him slip beneath the surface of the water and disappear
Speaker 1: the instant the wire touched his snout. Now we'd located
Speaker 1: some prime target, some we guessed to be in excess
Speaker 1: of nine or ten feet long. Now do you guess
Speaker 1: the length of an alligator With all you can see
Speaker 1: is his head, you you estimate the number of inches
Speaker 1: from between his eyes down to his nostrils. Now that
Speaker 1: estimate in the inches will be pretty close to his
Speaker 1: total length and feet. Ten inches from eyes to nose
Speaker 1: equals ten foot of alligator in mississippiansas the American alligator.
Speaker 1: It was one fiddle to temp after another. However, and
Speaker 1: had we been stalking them on the ground. I feel
Speaker 1: confident we could have stood a better chance at putting
Speaker 1: one and a half Nelson long enough to tape him
Speaker 1: out and take his picture floating up to him with
Speaker 1: the limited reach of our Catchupole just wasn't doing the trick. Now,
Speaker 1: in retrospect, I'm more confident that this story would be
Speaker 1: a whole lot different than the one I'm telling now
Speaker 1: had we had the opportunity to wrestle one into submission
Speaker 1: on dry ground. I'm forever thankful that opportunity never arose.
Speaker 1: But a few hours in the radio crackled on the
Speaker 1: scramble channel that we used to say things that didn't
Speaker 1: need to go out under the scanners, Not that any
Speaker 1: one was around to listen, but regardless, we needed to
Speaker 1: at least present a modicum of professionalism to our counterparts.
Speaker 1: Here's what was transmitted. Bravo one is the Sierra one
Speaker 1: Alpha four certified. I responded Roger that Sierra one, All right,
Speaker 1: let me explain. Bravo one was my call sign. Sierra
Speaker 1: one was the call sign of my teammate at point
Speaker 1: man who was running the boat we were competing against.
Speaker 1: His name was Greg Stevenson. Alpha stood for alligator, and
Speaker 1: four meant that he was four foot long and certified
Speaker 1: minute they'd stretched him out and measured him and got
Speaker 1: a picture. Now all we had to beat was four feet.
Speaker 1: Are you kidding me? We were actively hunting gaters over
Speaker 1: eight feet long. I'd caught a baby that was about
Speaker 1: two feet long that I had riding in the boat
Speaker 1: with me for half a shift the night before. This
Speaker 1: was gonna be easy, all right, boys, you heard him.
Speaker 1: Next gator we see that's at least six foot long.
Speaker 1: We're snatching him up out of the water and putting
Speaker 1: an end of this contest. Pressure was off. We didn't
Speaker 1: have to mess with the big ones that were slipping
Speaker 1: away as fast as we slipped it up on him.
Speaker 1: We're hunting yearlings. Now we might as well be robbing
Speaker 1: him out of the baby bed. The next one we
Speaker 1: see is getting kidnapped, just for practice. If he ain't
Speaker 1: over six and a half feet, he's going back in
Speaker 1: the water till we find one that is three of
Speaker 1: us scan the surface of the water is close and
Speaker 1: calculated for a decent sized gator. As we had been
Speaker 1: looking for looters. It wasn't long when one of my
Speaker 1: soldiers said, there's one about six foot. We can warm
Speaker 1: up on him if you want. I told him to
Speaker 1: get the stuff ready, and I eased the boat over
Speaker 1: to where he was floating in the middle of a
Speaker 1: cove amongst smaller gators and the rest of the stuff
Speaker 1: that used to be part of the neighborhood. The stuff
Speaker 1: that they had to get ready was only a call
Speaker 1: and a yardstick that we'd found a roll of black
Speaker 1: electrical tape that we were going to use to tape
Speaker 1: his mouth shut once we got him in the boat. Now,
Speaker 1: everything in our world was timed. Our shifts were calculated
Speaker 1: in hours, our fuel consumption on how long we sat
Speaker 1: at idle, and how fast we drove from one patrol
Speaker 1: area to the next, how fast we safely clear the building.
Speaker 1: During training or in reality, it was a habit of
Speaker 1: subconsciously estimating the time it took for us to clear
Speaker 1: an obstacle or accomplish an objective twenty seconds, twenty seconds
Speaker 1: from the time we pulled the wire tight around his
Speaker 1: jaws until we were ready to start taking pictures. That's
Speaker 1: what I estimated it was going to be. Clockwork. Clark
Speaker 1: dropped the loop on that gater's mouth like he had
Speaker 1: been doing it all his life, and one big pull,
Speaker 1: he and Lord snatched that gator in the boat, just
Speaker 1: like we played. I couldn't believe how easy it is.
Speaker 1: It's gonna be. The clock had started the plan. Once
Speaker 1: we had him in the boat, Lord would lay on
Speaker 1: top of him, grab both sides of his mouth, holding
Speaker 1: and closed. Clark would hold steady pressure on the wire
Speaker 1: noose and catch pole while I ran a few rounds
Speaker 1: of tape around his jaws to keep them shut. The
Speaker 1: amount of force required to hold of a gator's mouth
Speaker 1: shut is minimal compared to the mouth they exert when
Speaker 1: closing it, and that's around three hundred pounds per square inch.
Speaker 1: They'll leave a mark on him. Over our fool proof plan,
Speaker 1: he wouldn't have a chance. I threw the throttle in
Speaker 1: the neutral and was halfway around the console and going
Speaker 1: to my knees with the table. When the soldiers hauled
Speaker 1: that dinosaur into the boat and the wire came loose
Speaker 1: from his mouth, time seemed to slow to a crawl.
Speaker 1: I was moving in slow motion. Clark and Lord were
Speaker 1: moving in slow motion. Everything was like it was covered
Speaker 1: in molasses, except the gator. He was making laps inside
Speaker 1: our boat so fast that when you jumped over him
Speaker 1: as he went under before you feed it at the deck,
Speaker 1: he was coming around again. And this seemed to go
Speaker 1: on forever. Now. I don't know how many laps I
Speaker 1: Joker made inside that boat, but I do know that
Speaker 1: I was about to give out from jumping over him
Speaker 1: every time he cruised through the straightaway before going low
Speaker 1: into turn three. But where are we going to go?
Speaker 1: There was only one of him in the boat with us,
Speaker 1: and a whole bunch of him out of the boat
Speaker 1: in the water where I momentarily thought about going. Then,
Speaker 1: when all hope was lost, Specialist Lord dove on him
Speaker 1: like a whole boat catching the last train out of town.
Speaker 1: Wham hold, we got him. Clark held his mouth shutting.
Speaker 1: I ran a half a roll of tape around his jaws.
Speaker 1: We had him caught. Finally we measured him, and then
Speaker 1: the Great Gator Catching Contest of two thousand and five
Speaker 1: we'd won. We tried half the night to catch one
Speaker 1: over eight feet. The one we caught was six foot either.
Speaker 1: Then the grands came of alligators. He was just a puff.
Speaker 1: But had he been six foot and one inch I
Speaker 1: firmly believe he had killed us all and that's just
Speaker 1: how that happened, messing with critters. Every year, the headlines
Speaker 1: from Yellowstone National Park make their way around the outdoor
Speaker 1: channels of social media. There the internet, wildlife experts comment
Speaker 1: on how dumb folks from other countries, the inebriated residents
Speaker 1: of this one and the seemingly ignorant get a lesson
Speaker 1: in mess around and find out. It's become quite a
Speaker 1: spectator sport. Watching the unsuspected get a lesson in the
Speaker 1: transference of kinetic energy science can be fun, especially when
Speaker 1: the lab experiment as someone walking up to take a
Speaker 1: selfie with a bison, one smiling click later and they're
Speaker 1: texting for a ride to the er from where they
Speaker 1: landed in the next zip code. I've watched so many
Speaker 1: compilation videos of foreigners and residents alike getting theled one
Speaker 1: to two from a seemingly tamed bison that even though
Speaker 1: I know what's coming, I can't turn away until I
Speaker 1: see with my own eyes the frontier. Justice has been dispensed.
Speaker 1: You've been found guilty of buffoonery in the northern portion
Speaker 1: of the Montana West, and your sentence is a permanent
Speaker 1: hitch in your get along and the embarrassing video clip
Speaker 1: that will haunt you for the rest of your days.
Speaker 1: Court adjourned. Forty seven thousand people each year seek medical
Speaker 1: treatment for being bitten or attacked by wild animals, with
Speaker 1: an average of eight each year being fatal. Now, if
Speaker 1: you count domesticated animals, that number claims to one million
Speaker 1: attacks or bites. Cows of all things send twenty folks
Speaker 1: a year. To the last roundup, a bunch of nerds
Speaker 1: down at the CDC got together and they found that
Speaker 1: from two thousand and eight to twenty fifteen, there was
Speaker 1: one thousand, six hundred and ten animal related fatalities in
Speaker 1: the US, with the majority of the deaths being the
Speaker 1: result of encounters with non venomous animals like fifty seven percent.
Speaker 1: One of the researchers is quoted as saying, importedly, most
Speaker 1: deaths are not actually due to wild animals like mountain lions, wolves, bears, sharks,
Speaker 1: et cetera, but are a result of deadly encounters with
Speaker 1: farm animals, allergic reactions from b wash for hornet stings,
Speaker 1: and dog attacks. So while it is important that people
Speaker 1: recreating in the wilderness know what to do when they
Speaker 1: encounter a potentially dangerous animal. The actual risk of death
Speaker 1: is quite low. The good doctor forgot about the idiot
Speaker 1: factor and the additional encounters brought to you by what
Speaker 1: made Milwaukee famous. Now, I'm no scientist or researcher or
Speaker 1: even a gambler, but I am an observer, and I
Speaker 1: made a living and stayed alive by watching folks engaging
Speaker 1: if they were friends or foe. By watching those the pesture,
Speaker 1: the huge harry prairie cows. I'm not coming away with
Speaker 1: much in the friend or fol category. I'm also not
Speaker 1: getting the impression that a lot of country folks are
Speaker 1: walking up to the Native American symbol of abundance and
Speaker 1: prosperity for a close and personal TikTok video and winding
Speaker 1: up meeting their yearly insurance deductible in one visit at
Speaker 1: the local trauma center. Now, on the other hand, it
Speaker 1: was the country board by which all my qualifying standards
Speaker 1: and qualifications for being one that thought catching a copperhead
Speaker 1: was a good idea. Remember him. I won't say his name,
Speaker 1: but his initials are me. He now, being from the
Speaker 1: country and being familiar with livestock and wild creatures doesn't
Speaker 1: vaccinate you from poor decision making. On the contrary, sometimes
Speaker 1: it gives you a false sense of natural ability, and
Speaker 1: not being scared of something is not a qualifier for
Speaker 1: interacting with it. Case in point, a friend of mine
Speaker 1: from out west, This fellow who shall remain nameless, is
Speaker 1: a large lad. He's the kind of guy that you'd
Speaker 1: think fear would be the last of his worries. But snakes,
Speaker 1: snakes of any kind, would run him up a locust tree.
Speaker 1: But being scared of snakes isn't really a big deal.
Speaker 1: There's a name for it, O if he die. Phobia
Speaker 1: in one study says that Americans fierce snakes more than
Speaker 1: anything else. It's fifty six percent numero uno on the
Speaker 1: spooky chart. No idea where badger's ranking that chart, but
Speaker 1: they should have been higher on his. He told me
Speaker 1: by the time, many moons ago, that his dog made
Speaker 1: a badger up in some sage brush. They were out
Speaker 1: hunting sheds when the incident occurred, and my friend was
Speaker 1: sands any type of firearm with which to dispatch it.
Speaker 1: Now before he didn't want to get the drawers in
Speaker 1: a wad. The state where this happened, had an open
Speaker 1: season on badgers. They could be one hundred year round,
Speaker 1: and this dude wanted one for the fur. He'd always
Speaker 1: fancied himself some sort of mountain man, and a badger
Speaker 1: skinned hat was his top priority. His dog had cornered
Speaker 1: him up a badger. And even though he didn't have
Speaker 1: a gun, he did have a big knife and a
Speaker 1: leather scabbard on his belt. He had it on every
Speaker 1: time I ever saw him, and he kept it sharp
Speaker 1: as a razor, he told me, And he said, I
Speaker 1: just decided to wait in there with my knife and
Speaker 1: stab back badger, skin him out, tan his hide, and
Speaker 1: make me a hat. Now, remember when I was talking
Speaker 1: about noticing things in my former career. It became a
Speaker 1: habit that helped me make it to retirement and mostly
Speaker 1: unscathed by doing so. I do it to this day subconsciously. Well,
Speaker 1: while he was telling me that story, I noticed that
Speaker 1: as he told it and mentioned the knife, he touched
Speaker 1: the handle of it as it hung on his belt,
Speaker 1: just as it had been ever since I'd met him.
Speaker 1: Every time he mentioned the badger of the hat, he
Speaker 1: looked at his left arm. I'll spare you the details,
Speaker 1: but my friend's attempt at take in a badger's fur
Speaker 1: by stabbing him it didn't work out. As he maneuvered
Speaker 1: in to take a stab, the badger latched hold of
Speaker 1: my pal's favorite arm on his left side and proceeded
Speaker 1: to gnaw and claw it down to the white parts.
Speaker 1: That all the meat was attached to nine stitches a
Speaker 1: second is what we figured it out to be in
Speaker 1: the end, and he hung on for thirty six offs
Speaker 1: stitches that is not seconds. He showed me the scars
Speaker 1: and I said he did all that in four seconds.
Speaker 1: He looked at me with his eyes as big as
Speaker 1: saucers and said, calmly, I think he did it in
Speaker 1: one second. It took me three to get him shook
Speaker 1: off in about thirty more for the squealing to stop.
Speaker 1: I said, they squeal in that attack, and he said, no,
Speaker 1: I was doing this squill. I sounded like my little
Speaker 1: girl when she sees a spider messing with critters, and
Speaker 1: it'll turn grown in into little girls speaking to little girls.
Speaker 1: When my littlest girl was five, we had a pet
Speaker 1: coon and we named him Buster. I gotten him from
Speaker 1: a friend of ours that we went to church with.
Speaker 1: She's a vettech. And if there was ever a real
Speaker 1: life showed up Ellie May Clampett, it's Madeline. Madeline is
Speaker 1: as pretty as they get inside and out. She and
Speaker 1: her husband are good country folks, with horses and the
Speaker 1: usual animals you'll see on a small country farm. And
Speaker 1: at one time she had a squad of tame uns
Speaker 1: living his pets in their barn. She was telling me
Speaker 1: about them one day at church, and I told her
Speaker 1: that if she ever came across an extra one, that
Speaker 1: I wanted it for Bailey and for me. I told
Speaker 1: Alexis about our conversation my wife, and she didn't seem
Speaker 1: overly excited about getting a pet coon. She also didn't
Speaker 1: seem overly confident that I'd get one. Well, she thought poorly.
Speaker 1: A few weeks later, someone brought in an orphan kitt
Speaker 1: and coon to the veterinarian's office for maddling work, and
Speaker 1: she called me, does Bailey still want a baby coon? Yes,
Speaker 1: definitely still wants a baby coon. Bailey does. Okay, I'm
Speaker 1: coming y'all's way and I'll drop him off. Twenty minutes later,
Speaker 1: I was cradling a baby boy Bandido and bottle feeding
Speaker 1: him some kitten milk replacement. Alexis picked Bailey up from
Speaker 1: school and when they walked in surprise, y'all meet her
Speaker 1: new baby Bailey and immedily reached for him and squeezed
Speaker 1: him tight. Alexis immediately reached for me and squeezed me tight,
Speaker 1: mainly my neck, concentrating on the part where the air
Speaker 1: goes in and out. She got over it, and Bailey
Speaker 1: and I named him Buster. Now. Buster was a curious
Speaker 1: little guy, as one would figure baby coon would be
Speaker 1: if he wasn't a sleeper eating from a bottle. He's
Speaker 1: crawling all over us and creation. He and Bailey played together,
Speaker 1: and I'd sit on the steps or in front of
Speaker 1: the house and watch her running up and down the
Speaker 1: sidewalk with Buster and tow doing everything he could to
Speaker 1: keep up with her. Bailey was learning to ride her bicycle,
Speaker 1: and before we took her training wheels off, Buster would
Speaker 1: sit and ride in her basket or follow her down
Speaker 1: the street and back. They were buddies. A month after
Speaker 1: two thirds of us welcomed the Buster into our home,
Speaker 1: I left for bear hunting trip in Idaho. I'd been
Speaker 1: the main character and clean her up her After Buster,
Speaker 1: Bailey helped some, but she was also five, and while
Speaker 1: she was most likely the more mature of the two
Speaker 1: of us, it was still ultimately my responsibility, and when
Speaker 1: I left, the duty fell on Alexis, both figuratively and literally.
Speaker 1: Buster Buster either struggled with incontinence or he had no shame,
Speaker 1: and I leaned toward the latter. Either way. If you
Speaker 1: think kitting milk replacement smells bad when you mix it up,
Speaker 1: you should get a whiff of it after it filters
Speaker 1: through a coon named Buster that only moments ago was
Speaker 1: sitting peacefully on your shoulder when nature came calling. That
Speaker 1: smell would drive a buzzer and off a gut wagon.
Speaker 1: I checked in with Alexis to see how they were doing.
Speaker 1: When I got a little signal on our hunt, Alexis
Speaker 1: told me that she'd said something earlier in the day
Speaker 1: that she'd never dreamed she would say. She said there
Speaker 1: was no way any one could have ever convinced her,
Speaker 1: even two months ago, which was still seven years into
Speaker 1: her indoctrination in the world of hunting dogs, dead animals,
Speaker 1: and everything else that she was happily ignorant of until
Speaker 1: she met me. She said, I couldn't have never imagined
Speaker 1: me saying, Bailey, it's starting to rain, get your coon,
Speaker 1: we're going in the house. But I said that very
Speaker 1: thing today as we sat on the front steps of
Speaker 1: our home. Brand Brent, I love you, but I have
Speaker 1: no idea how I got here me either, Honey, just lucky.
Speaker 1: I guess. We kept busting until he got big enough
Speaker 1: to take care of himself, and I purposely left his
Speaker 1: sleeping cage open one night and he left and he
Speaker 1: never came back. He started to get a little rough
Speaker 1: and I didn't want him hurting Bailey even on accident.
Speaker 1: We miss him, and we have some fond memories and
Speaker 1: some of the cutest pictures and videos of that Rascal
Speaker 1: and Bailey that I share on Instagram. Messing with critters
Speaker 1: can be fun and entertaining, but it's best on both sides.
Speaker 1: Enjoy it. I'm gonna post some pictures of the winning gater,
Speaker 1: me and the boys from the Alabama National Guard hemmed
Speaker 1: up in the boat on Lake Ponta train nineteen years ago.
Speaker 1: If anyone recognizes those guys, get in touch with me.
Speaker 1: I'd love to talk to them. Y'all keep sending in
Speaker 1: the stories to me and Rebel and let's focus on
Speaker 1: things that are funny or amazing that happened to you
Speaker 1: and yours while no outdoors, we got some really good
Speaker 1: ones and we're planning on doing some new things I
Speaker 1: think you'll enjoy in the near future. School's almost out.
Speaker 1: Time to get them youngins out of the house and
Speaker 1: into nature. That's just as important a place for them
Speaker 1: to learn as any. They'll be taking over one day
Speaker 1: to make sure they got some sense when they do.
Speaker 1: Until next week. This is Bret Reeves signing off. Y'all
Speaker 1: be careful to be done.