How many of you went on fishing trips with “your Dad”? Wow…I still have bad dreams about it.
My father thought he was Long John Silver. He would yell at us…“Keep your eye on the bobber!!” “Don’t move!! Don’t talk!!” “Don’t breathe!!”
Gee Dad, I never knew that fish had such keen eyesight or hearing. Or could detect the slightest respiratory actions of a fucking 12 year old kid. What a fucking prick.
And then, on top of that, would come his famous line. “God Damn It!! What’s wrong with you kids?”
He would bring a small chest freezer along to store “all” of the fish that HE…er…we caught. Hell, the only fish that ended up in that freezer were from Mrs. Paul’s.
Nowadays, I have a new fishing partner. Yes, the Matt-Man. We don’t catch much, but just getting away from everything for a few hours is nice.
I say nothing, and he says nothing…except for when he screams, “Hey Dave, did you see that big motherfucker!?” So warm.
The only noise we hear is from the summer breeze and the flock of geese that honk and laugh their asses off at us, knowing we probably won’t catch anything.
And then to add insult to their mockery of us, they fly up and drop a few Canadian Goose sized milk duds on our heads. Bastards.Now Matt, he will cast out only 10-12 feet. I, on the other hand will cast out 200-300 yards. I don’t give a fuck if the fish are only 10-12 feet from shore…I NEED DISTANCE, GOD DAMN IT!!
Ha…If Daddy could only hear me now!! But, well…at least Matt-Man never yells.
Sometimes, a couple of Matt-Man’s brothers hook up with us…which is a mixed blessing.
His brother Vince? He will bring only TWO worms and a gay little tripod to rest his pole upon. You know why?
Because he always has to get back home to clean out his fucking gutters!! “Hey Vince, try casting out over there.” And he will respond…
“Nope, gotta go; it might rain in the near future and there may be a leaf in my spouting!!”
Now Marty, is just plain fucked up. He’s obnoxious and loud in a good way. He will ask, “Where are the fish biting?”
I’ve seen Matt say, “Right where my bobber is.” Marty will throw his line in six inches from Matt-Man’s, and in seconds, reel in a fish.And then…Marty will begin to laugh just like Ace Ventura, Pet Detective. What a freak.
We try to get Schmoop to go with us once in awhile, but it never has, and it never will happen. Because, well…She’d have to leave the house.
That’s too bad, because whether we catch anything or not, it’s nice to be out there next to the lake and feel the sun upon your face.
Of course….I could do without the duck shit on my noggin.
Dig It…
Dave
