Stick a hook in YOUR mouth and see how YOU like it
At left, cute little old me, circa 1962, spending "quality time" fishing. Even then, my disposition was pretty much set: see how much fun I'm having? Also, and not coincidentally, notice how much fun the fish is having. I have a vague memory of this--the actual fishing part, I mean. Something about hooking with the mouth and it's wet and the thrashing about and then the pain and more flopping around and then the tears and the horror, the horror, and then ultimately, the smell.Ya know, upon reflection: that's a lot like sex. Or at least, my memory of it --the sex, not the fishing...wait. Now I'm confused....
OK. The specific memory I have of this marvelous day is: I wanted to go home, immediately. Because even at the age of five I had discovered what way too many toothless rednecks don't ever find out, which is that fishing blows.
Here, then, my definitive angle on angling:
- It's not a sport. Sports involve balls and scoring with said balls (another similar-to-sex reference. Uncanny, isn't it?)
- One word: mosquitos.
- Slimy, grotesque, bloody entrails. Unless you'll be wielding the scalpel on A&E's Autopsy: Case Files, cleaning and gutting the li'l buggers isn't for you. Or anyone civilized, for that matter.
- Q. Whaddya call two guys sitting around drinking beer for 5 hours? A. Alcoholics. Q. Whaddya call the same two guys sitting around drinking beer for 5 hours in a boat on a lake with rods and reels? A. Fishermen.
- Hey, idjits, you don't need to do it. You can buy the damn fish right there in the supermarket.
posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 7:22 AM
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