What’s that really mean?
Saturday afternoon, I took a quick spin through Bass Pro – it was across from Sister’s hotel, I just couldn’t pass up a chance to shop for gear. Never did find what I was looking for, but one of the guides working comes up to me, “Hey, don’t I know you?”
“Nope, you’ve never seen me before.” I wanted to do that Jedi Mind Trick, too, “These are not the fishing guides you are looking for…”
So I picked up Sister’s crew chief and with a truckload of walnut furniture (real Arkansas walnut, handcrafted, &c.), and moseyed back towards Austin, then on down to Lockhart. Stopped off with Bubba Sean, had us fine BBQ at Blacks. Dropped off the big deak with him, chez casa de bubba.
And kept on going. Just like that energizer bunny, right to home and to bed.
Sunday morning, at 5:25 AM I was at the right place with pole in hand, ready to catch fish. It was cold, it was dark and I was wearing sunglasses. Or maybe they were in my pocket, but we were off.
What gorgeous dawn, the fish were stirring the surface, I got a couple of strikes on a little spinner, didn’t get the fish “caught,” but I was having fun, nonetheless.
I did have a big one “shake the hook,” and I was using a rattle-trap on that bad boy. The way I see it? The fish were in rare form, able to spit them lures out pretty fast. Canny fish. Way it goes.
I was just sure that the hat Fredlet sent me was going to bring me good luck, but alas, it wasn’t meant to be.
The Moon and Jupiter set, the sun came up and I stripped down to shorts. What a nice day it was. And it was far from over.
I was trying to impress Blue Valentine, and her predelictions run towards “scruffy,” so I skipped shaving, shower and nap, and instead of donning a clean shirt, I just picked up a New Bohemia Hawaiian print, and headed up to Halcyon to meet the gang.
I tried to impress that punk rock girl, but to no avail….
“No piercings that can lift cinder blocks and what? Or car battery? Even a beer keg!”
I just crossed my arms and legs and doubled over in empathic pain.
