Post by Admin on Aug 30, 2018 2:15:47 GMT
I'm an imposter & the fish know it.
An outspoken, professional smartass buddy of mine called me out the other day.
He's a serious fisherman but this guy is just intense. He takes everything to the extreme. He's all in.
I'm making fun of him for ranting at this kid for warping by on a wave runner and after I'm done he
stops, hooks his line to his rod, carefully sets it down, spins his chair around so he's
looking right at me and says
"You don't give a damn if you catch anything. In fact, I'm beginning to think you are
inconvenienced by having to deal with them if you do."
I said "Okay, Doyle (his name isn't Doyle. I call him that because he reminds me
of Dwight Yoakam's character in the movie 'Sling Blade') you fishin' son of a bitch
you got me. I'm just here for your lovely company. You're such a ray of sunshine, you
rainbow-shitting unicorn, you."
But he's pretty much spot-on. I went from fishing with my Dad as a kid to fishing
with my own son and kind of became the one who handled all the "stuff" so my
son could get a hook in the water as soon as possible and fish. I enjoy seeing him enjoy it.
I realize now that's what my Dad did because I really fished when I was "the kid."
I love the paraphernalia too. Rods, reels and lures are just fun to mess with.
Bass Pro Shops adore me. That is one of the only stores I don't find mentally taxing.
I recently purchased a spinning reel and a rod. I'd never get a preconfigured combo.
Picked each one carefully so I have the perfect (for me) set-up. It's light, smooth and effortlessly sails a jig accross the water. I love it.
But Doyle was right. I'm no fisherman. I just like to hang out with my son, my asshole buddy, and pretend to fish.
An outspoken, professional smartass buddy of mine called me out the other day.
He's a serious fisherman but this guy is just intense. He takes everything to the extreme. He's all in.
I'm making fun of him for ranting at this kid for warping by on a wave runner and after I'm done he
stops, hooks his line to his rod, carefully sets it down, spins his chair around so he's
looking right at me and says
"You don't give a damn if you catch anything. In fact, I'm beginning to think you are
inconvenienced by having to deal with them if you do."
I said "Okay, Doyle (his name isn't Doyle. I call him that because he reminds me
of Dwight Yoakam's character in the movie 'Sling Blade') you fishin' son of a bitch
you got me. I'm just here for your lovely company. You're such a ray of sunshine, you
rainbow-shitting unicorn, you."
But he's pretty much spot-on. I went from fishing with my Dad as a kid to fishing
with my own son and kind of became the one who handled all the "stuff" so my
son could get a hook in the water as soon as possible and fish. I enjoy seeing him enjoy it.
I realize now that's what my Dad did because I really fished when I was "the kid."
I love the paraphernalia too. Rods, reels and lures are just fun to mess with.
Bass Pro Shops adore me. That is one of the only stores I don't find mentally taxing.
I recently purchased a spinning reel and a rod. I'd never get a preconfigured combo.
Picked each one carefully so I have the perfect (for me) set-up. It's light, smooth and effortlessly sails a jig accross the water. I love it.
But Doyle was right. I'm no fisherman. I just like to hang out with my son, my asshole buddy, and pretend to fish.
