FISHING

FISHING ... yeah, right, the place where your fantasies have a chance.
       In 1968 I fly-fished a lot.  I learned that by tugging my line back just right when it was fully extended in front of me, the fly would recoil and land gently on the water maybe a full second before the line fell.  I hooked the biggest trout I ever saw in this fashion.  I mentioned to a girl (NOT a woman) that I used an automatic fly reel. She said, "That's terrible. You should give the fish a chance."
       DRY FLY FISHERMEN obsess about the right color, the right wrapping, the nearly perfect imitation of the Blue Dun, the Damsel Fly sitting atop the film, at the right time during the hatch.V They obsess about letting the fly follow the flow, letting it find its subtly guided way into the shadow water behind the rock right in front of the tree in the water.  Yep.  Insane.
       FULL METAL FISHERMEN smite the water with what looks like a white girl posing in the costume of a hula dancer with no sense of color while wrapped in a chrome chain and dragging a single-fluke anchor in chrome.  Predators, like unrestrained capitalists, go for it!  Full metal fishermen do fine.  Most pike don't know dreck from Drambuie.
       There are, though, I will grudgingly admit, the occasional really smart fish; consider the old bass that won't eat a chunk of hotdog unless it is still in the torn package some dumbass litterbug tossed in the water.
       FUTURE FISHERMEN will have a laptop and game widget in their hands and drive a little submarine with a harpoon and/or impact taser loaded.  Your Navigator riding shotgun will be responsible for the fish-finder.  This is so the fisherman will have someone to talk to and share beer with.
           Captain: Where are the damned fish, Bob?
           Navigator: Water's warm today, Skipper. They'll be down deep.
           Captain: What are the chances of a 40 pound pike eating my whole damned $2500 sub?
           Navigator: Only one case of that in the literature, Skipper, sir.
       Laugh not, there are lures out there with a longer pedigree than your horse, more words in their name than a Spanish Grandee, lights, rattles, odor packages, and some that are nearly perfect models of live fish.  I'd give $30 for a genuine Pott's Lady Mite.
       PLUNKER Someone who just wants fresh fish for supper.  Kids or subsistence fishermen.  They don't want a record fish, they want pan-sized.  They go down to the water with live bait.  God bless 'em.  They are by far my favorite and I have endless sympathy for them.