Fishin'!

   What better endeavor for Dads, Grampas, or Uncles to pass on to their clan's young men than Fishing! With such stinky, slimey gross creatures as worms, bugs, eels,  bullheads and suckers it is the ideal activity for little boys! (And Big Men who are still little boys at heart.) Sure, there's some danger with hooks and snakes and the like, but it's not an adventure if there's no risk, right?

  Now people have been fishin' for just about as long as there's been people; and probably will for as long as there are fish!  Some of you may think it strange that a person would get up at 4:00 in the morning to go stand in ice-cold, hip-deep water for hours with a can full of big, juicy worms.  But there's no thrill like that moment when you feel that tug on your line, and you know you've got one! And after a brief struggle you draw your beautiful prize out from the waters!

   I remember those summer Sundays when Dad would pile all us boys and our gear in the station wagon and head out to Uncle Steve's cottage on the Housatonic River. Out there on the dock, getting my line all tangled while Neil Diamond crooned out a tune on Dad's AM radio, I discovered the ancient art and mystery of fishing. If I ever caught anything besides a rock or a stick, it was a slippery, squirmy eel, which Uncle Steve would unceremoniously feed to his cat. 

    Honestly, I sucked at fishing, as I sucked at anything requiring any degree of athletic prowess; to this day I can't cast out a line to save my life. 

   My brother Bob, on the other hand, was a fish magnet. He'd haul in three or four catches before anyone else ever got a nibble. I do believe that he could drop a shoelace into a mud puddle and pull up a five-pound bass.  One day he reeled in a bizarre, prehistoric looking creature we later found out to be a Red-Horned Chub (Nocomis biguttatus). 

   Just kidding, that wasn't it! Note to all POKEMON GO! players: instead of running around trying to catch make-believe creatures that aren't even there, why not go after real creatures like hornyhead chubs? I mean you can't eat a Magicarp, can you? It was almost fifty years ago my brother caught that dude and it's still exciting.

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   Maybe the only thing better than catching fish is eating them. One summer  my mother, brother, and I journeyed to Arkansas to spend a week with Mom's brother Richard Mullins.     Her cousin Ewing owned a cabin on a man-made pond they'd stocked with catfish.  My brother Gary and I passed the morning with Uncle Richard fishing that pond. (I caught me a big ol' flathead.)  The rest of the clan joined us there bringing all kinds of food and we had a fish-fry right out in the country. That catfish was delicious! 

   As our wedding day approached and it was looking as though we wouldn't have enough money for the banquet facility, Wendy was stressing out that we might have to cut some guests! Then someone gave her a half-dozen or so fish they'd caught, and it was like a sign to her that money was coming and everything would be all right. God has funny ways of answering our prayers sometimes! Whatever, I gutted and scaled those fish and Wendy cooked 'em up. Her fear was gone and we had us an awesome wedding reception!

   Salt-water or fresh water, whether you're an avid sportsman or a novice angler, fishin' is an awesome pastime we love, and love to pass on to our kids. And that's the way it should be.