People are always asking me, “Gayne, how can I be a ruggedly handsome, international big game hunter who writes about his exploits for several cool magazines as well as Outdoor like you?” Well, you can’t. The second thing they ask is, “Where’s your office?” Let me show you. My office is in a safari tent in my backyard. It’s not much, but it does make me feel like I’m in the field. Except when my wife yells at me from the house some 20 yards away.
The front section is the seating area. It’s where I entertain the big names of the literary and hunting world that often stop by for a drink and good conversation. Ok, it’s where my wife, the dog, and I hang out while we watch the kids play in the yard.
An alligator I took down along the Texas Coast greets visitors. Well, it doesn’t really “greet” them. It just sort of hangs there looking cool.
A friend had this alligator carved for me by some locals in Jamaica. “You went to Jamaica and you bring me a wooden gator?!” “It’s cool man. Had it carved right there on the beach.” “A wooden gator?! Jamaica?! And that’s what you bring me?!” “Uh huh…” “Get the…get…just get outta my yard! You make me sick! You’re a sorry friend!”
These rocks were brought over from Africa specifically for my tent. Ok. I took them from my neighbor’s flower garden.
This campaign furniture gun stand was made by my friend Barry Bradley at Artisans at Rocky Hill ( I keep my Gamo air rifle handy for squirrels and gophers. My CZ .375 H&H Mag. for lions. Haven’t been a lot of lions hanging around lately but it’s good to be prepared.
This is a coatimundi I took in Mexico a few years back. He’s situated in the middle of the tent so he’s always watching. Always. Always watching. Always.
I love this bottle opener. Don’t remember where I got it but it reminds me my time in Africa and not that girl Tricia with the bug eyes, elongated neck, and beehive hairdo that I used to date, so leave me alone girl! Quit e-mailing me n’ calling all the time and I know it’s you be sending all the texts … they have your name on ’em.
Molly the dog is buried behind my tent. I like to keep her close to me. Everybody say, “Ahhhhhhhhh, that’s so sweet.”
What does Bollywood actress Aishwarya Rai have to do with my tent? Nothing. Nothing at all. Although I’d be happy to have her visit.
My 9-year-old daughter strung these beads and shells together. I said, “How nice. You made decorations for the tent.” She replied, “No dad. I made you a garrote. You know. For strangling someone.” They grow up so fast.
I keep wood for my fire pit behind the tent. I don’t have anything funny to say about that.
I plaster cigar labels from my past smokes upon the rafters. I do the same thing with beer labels, wine labels, and liquor labels. I’m running out of rafter space.
My daughter asked to paint a mural on this rock that leans against my tent. Since the tent has an African theme, she went with an Egyptian motif. Her painting depicts my wife, daughter, son and dog giving me, aka The Pharaoh, tributes. I love that kid. So smart about the ways of the world.