Wednesday, August 14, 2019
By: Ted Nugent “I’m not into politics, I just wanna go hunting” sayeth the unAmerican sheep. I cannot imagine many things more unAmerican, in fact downright anti-American, than being so disconnected and apathetic in failing to actually fulfill the #1 American duty and responsibility to participate in this sacred experiment in self-government. We the people is supposed…Tuesday, August 6, 2019
By: Ted Nugent Well hallelujah, my bowhunting BloodBrothers in California and Florida have already kicked off the backstrap boogie season 2019 and the celebratory SpiritWild campfires are already burning brightly in that not so quiet night. Me, I’m still out here celebrating the glorious American Dream freedom soundtrack with another few weeks to go on the greatest musical adventure of my life. Every song, every concert, every night, every guitar lick continues to be a Samurai out of body fun fest, with Greg Smith on bass guitar and young Jason Hartless on his MotorCity thunderdrums pounding out the best all American R&B rock-n-roll soulmusic the world has ever witnessed, if I do say so myself. And that guitar tone! Lord have mercy! I’m unleashing licks that God has yet to authorize! We are blessed with the greatest music loving audiences in the world and the energy level each night is off the Richter scale charts. I cannot say thank you often enough or loud enough! THANK YOU!Wednesday, July 31, 2019
By: Ted Nugent For my entire adult life, I have celebrated and promoted the spiritual dynamo of the hunting lifestyle and our very special participatory oneness with God’s miraculous creation. It’s all about the Spirit of the Wild! Going all the way back to my earliest musical adventures, spurred on in many ways and certainly paralleled year for year with my bowhunting upbringing, in my own mushybrained, not yet developed youthful intellect, I always felt the presence of The Great Spirit more than I actually understood it. The near impossible task and my indefatigable effort of getting close to wild things with my home-made hickory slingshot, Red Ryder BB gun and my precious yew longbow and arrows taught me much each day afield, that the hopeful act of potentially killing that critter was vastly overpowered, even eclipsed, by the daunting challenge of temporarily overcoming their miraculous design to avoid me.Thursday, July 25, 2019
By: Ted Nugent “Do you remember her name? She’s been here for a long, long time. She has the magic power, to make it rain or sunshine. She got the power to turn off the lights. She got the power over day and the night! You best hide when she’s angry, because she can level your town. When she throws a temper tantrum it’s like the sky is falling down. She got the power to turn off the lights. She got the power over day and the night. She’s the queen of the forest. Queen of the forest! Queen of the forest.Wednesday, July 17, 2019
By: Ted Nugent As your read these glowing words of spirit, attitude, independence and freedom, I am settling into the concrete hell warzone of California, about to assault the rock-n-roll stage for my 6721st concert. Oh the humanity! The title of my most recent record is The Music Made Me Do It, and this 2019 tour, 65 years later after my first musical performance at the age of 5 for a family gathering in Detroit, is titled “The Music Made Me Do It-Again!” I’ve come up with some clever wordsmithing over the years for tour titles, “Intensities In 10 Cities” comes to mind, but this year it is both literal and simple, because my American Dream has been powerfully fortified by my intense love of American rock-n-roll, and nothing, I mean nothing could ever get in my way. The music really did make me do it, and it still does.Thursday, July 11, 2019
By: Ted Nugent This morning, again, I cruised the plethora of trails bisecting my sacred Michigan hunting grounds, and literally wallowed and danced in unlimited spirit. In the first hour of cruising the swamplands in my Roxor offroader, I was blessed with the uniquely massive stimuli factor offered by the numerous deer sightings, beaver, otter, mink, a raccoon, possum, muskrat, turtles, a snake, frogs, red squirrels, fox squirrels, chipmunks, rabbits, a groundhog, pheasant, woodcock, turkey, sandhill cranes, ducks, geese, swans, herons, crows, hawks, owls, a bald eagle, a pair of big, hammering Pileated woodpeckers and probably 30-40 species of birdlife, all singing and warbling the intoxicating soundtrack to my favorite life beyond the pavement. I stop often, shut off the diesel engine, sit a spell and listen, then wander off, gorging on delicious wild berries and checking and adjusting treestands here and there. My dogs Happy, Sadie and Coco joined me over the distant hogback ridge to check out a few remote foodplots, all doing fantastic from the rainy spring and summer so far. It was good to see the oak trees are already showing a killer mast crop coming on strong. The many wild apple trees are heavy with fruit again this year.Monday, July 8, 2019
By: Ted Nugent I smell backstraps on the grill baby, all across America! Afterall, nothing says Happy Independence Day quite like the sizzling sacred flesh fruits of the ultimate independent lifestyle of deerhunting. On this very special and uniquely American holiday, or better put, holy day, it is imperative that we teach our children and remind everyone in our lives just exactly what the 4th of July truly represents. I would like to think that no other lifestyle better celebrates true independence like the rugged individual, self-sufficiency lifestyle of the American deerhunter. Though our brilliant, courageous Founding Fathers and American Revolutionary Patriots that defeated King George’s sheep-like punk army wrote down a killer list of self-evident truths and God given individual rights by which we declared our independence, freedom and sovereignty, I have always believed they forgot as important a right as any listed in the Bill of Rights.Wednesday, June 26, 2019
By: Ted Nugent It was a sunny, warm fall day in 1957, and my cousin Mark and I were on safari along the Rouge River in Dearborn, Michigan. The Dearborn Hills golf course was our own little dream wildlife paradise, and we stealthily scooted along the fairway edges with our yew longbows tightly gripped, cedar arrows cocked, locked and oh so ready to rock! At the tender age of 9 I was already alive with the Spirit of the Wild, and my youthful critter radar was always on red alert. Mark and I simultaneously saw the movement above on the towering oak limb as a big bushytailed fox squirrel leapt, ran and scrambled for dear life.Thursday, June 20, 2019
By: Ted Nugent Sure. I know. It’s just the beginning of summertime and our beloved huntseason is still a longways off. Unless of course you are ready for the California and Florida deerseasons in July! But lament not my Spirit BloodBrothers of the Backstrap Tribe, for what we do this time of year can and should play a major role in how effective we can be once the season is upon us and we climb aboard our much-anticipated ambush deerstand. Even though the annual rock-n-roll outrage summer tour is about to erupt for this old guitar slaying backstrapper, (and I can’t wait!) I nonetheless remain deeply in touch with the pulse of my nature relationship pretty much every day all year long.Wednesday, June 12, 2019
By: Ted Nugent I will be 71 years old this coming winter, and I thought I would share some old man, million adventure miles observations with my fellow deerhunting brethren. So much has changed since I was born in 1948, yet so much has remained the same. I just made a very emotional return trip to my old birth neighborhood in Detroit and stopped by the little house at 23251 Florence Street where I grew up. Though I was immediately jettisoned back in time with a flood of wonderful, stirring, happy memories, in reality the old neighborhood was in no way the same. What were once proudly maintained and manicured lawns and yards were now overgrown weed fields in disarray and embarrassingly unkempt condition. The beautiful little houses I remember were now in wrecked shambles if not outright torched. Most of the trees I climbed and hunted squirrels in the neighborhood were gone.