Thursday, July 25, 2019By: 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, 2019By: 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, 2019By: 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, 2019By: 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, 2019By: 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, 2019By: 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, 2019By: 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.
Thursday, May 30, 2019By: Ted Nugent Thank God I was born into a hunting, shooting, outdoor celebrating family way back when! I’ve always said if Elvis Presley and Jim Hendrix et al were raised with a bow and arrow in the Great Outdoors, they would still be alive today! Believe me when I tell you how thrilling, challenging and consuming is the mighty mystical flight of the arrow and allthings Great Outdoors! There was simply no way any stoned, drunk, drooling goofball would have ever convinced me that getting high or drunk could possibly make me a better archer, hunter or guitar player.
Thursday, May 23, 2019By: Ted Nugent As powerful a healing force that nature provides us outdoor families in America, now is not the time to let her often intoxicating healing powers deter us from critical cultural life and death concerns and inherent duties that are all around us. Our sacred outdoor recreation time does not only re-create our energies and spirit, but should always bring a clearer focus to life’s many demands on our priority list. When I constantly repeat the American quality of life battlecry of God, family, country, it is always gratifying to witness how it resonates with my family, friends, neighbors, hunting buddies, and quite honestly everyone in not just my close inner-circle, but literally everyone everywhere in my everyday walk of life. But as we painfully see and hear the abject decay of goodwill and decency in increasing segments of American society, not to mention the war on truth, logic and commonsense in the nasty world of fakenews, academia propaganda and runaway criminal corruption in government, the best Americans, ie; hunting families, must step forward now more than ever to counterpunch all that negativity and fight for God, family and country like we mean it, like never before.
Thursday, May 16, 2019By: Ted Nugent Growing up and hunting in Michigan throughout the 50s 60s and 70s, there were no wild turkeys to be had. My first encounter with the mighty Thunderchicken was in the Manistee National Forest up in the northeast area of the lower peninsula around 1975. Trekking mile after mile of wonderful rugged wildground habitat pursuing the elusive Ruff Grouse and Timberdoodles with my amazing Irish Setter birdmasters, we stumbled upon a flock of about twelve Eastern turkey hens one afternoon, and I was rather surprised and delighted to say the least. A few years after that we could apply for a spring gobbler permit, and my exciting hunting for this magnificent big game bird was off and running.