Jon Pear (a.k.a. NeuroAster)

A fish story

In sigma on March 2, 2010 at 8:59 am

When I was six years old, my Uncle Andy taught me how to fish (It was the last thing Uncle Andy and I ever did together; he died of a heart attack a few years later). That was the only time I ever went fishing, and I don’t really remember any of the technique or anything. But I do remember what we caught. That is, I remember what it looked like: It was about the size of your thumb, and it was black with a white belly. In spite of it’s small size, Uncle Andy still took the fish to his cabin and proudly mounted it anyhow. We somehow still managed to bring the little thing back to the cabin even after the canoe tipped over.

Yes, at one point, the canoe tipped over. I was scared at first (and holy crap that water was cold), but luckily we happened to have our life-preservers with us. I thought that we would drown. I experienced a curious mixture of pleasant-surprise and relief when I found myself floating instead of sinking. That was, in fact, the day when I learned what a life-preserver was. My mind had equated deep water with drowning up until then. “Unca!” I exclaimed. “We’re safe!” “We’re not drowning!” “Well we’d better not,” Uncle Andy quipped, “I payed dxmn good money for these life-preservers!” And he laughed.

I was quiet for the rest of the morning, filled with a sense of wonder and awe. I gazed into the beauty of the cloudless blue sunny sky that we were still alive to see, and I gazed into the murky foreboding darkness of the deep lake. We could have drowned. We actually could have drowned. But we didn’t. We actually didn’t.

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  1. You got me thinking about Fishing. Thanks 😉
    I grew up in the Southwest of Ireland in a little town in the County of Kerry!
    I often went fishing , and would nick/borrow/steal one of my brothers ‘rod’s’. (There were 5 boys and two girls, apart from meself)
    We were surrounded for choice of river and it depended on time of year.
    I myself , have never actually ‘hooked’ a fish…and don’t think I really had it in me !
    But , I watched in amazement as my good friend/next door neighbour Johnnie wrestled with a salmon on the River Maine, near FarranFore Airport (County Kerry).
    This fight was a proper battle of wits, and Johnny had to wrestle for a good half hour , moving with the fish and then against, tiring it , to the point of exhaustion, and me – the immersed sidekick who used the net to land her – Johnny Connor said it was a her ! I really believed him .
    Contrast that with Johnny cousin , my best friend, then , Pat – who once caught a trout no more than 7 inches long , and who beat its head against a rock.
    The difference – Johnny let the lady fish free – he was a sucker for the sanctity of motherhood and the generations of sport that they provide .!
    Pat, he killed for supper in a way that reminded me of ‘instant Gravy granules’.
    Does any of this make sense to you ? or any of your readers?
    Lol.#
    You are a gent !
    Love the Blog / love your tweets more http://www.twitter.com/neuroaster
    You are a #FreeGary #Garymckinon #Stalworth !
    ‘SPECT

  2. Makes #sense2me, #thats4sure #LOL 😀

    Your awesomeness rules, http://cliffsull.wordpress.com/ #smilesandhugs

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