Friday, February 26, 2010

The Joy of Fishing

Oh, fishing… The manly sport. Where men are at one with nature, providing for themselves and their family. Often going alone for 12-16 hours a day during fishing season, and sometimes with friends or relatives, men take this bonding opportunity with nature very seriously. Too seriously. I have never enjoyed fishing. I went many times with my father as a kid, and always failed to enjoy myself. Is there something wrong with me? What about this is supposed to be appealing?

For me, the fun of fishing was directly correlated with the quality and amount of treats in the cooler. My dad used to pack Snickers, Cokes, sandwiches, Milky Ways, etc. and the whole time I would be stoked for it. “Oh yeah, I can’t wait to sink my teeth into that Snick--- I mean, go fishing...” Truth be told, I don’t even care for seafood all that much, maybe salmon on occasion, but that’s not important. As the cooler depleted, so did my interest in fishing. Soon the temperature became too cold to bear, the rain became too hard to handle and I managed to attract mosquitoes the same way plastic wrap attracts itself.

To me, fishing has always been strikingly similar to night clubs (another activity I have never been all that fond of). They both consist of a bunch of guys that smell strongly (of fishing tackle or cologne) in a less than ideal atmosphere (cold and rain or unbearably loud music) striving for hard to obtain objects (fish or women) with their poles (the size of which isn’t important, fish). The men sometimes are fishing to keep (note: clubs are an awful place for this), but most are fishing to catch and release. This pisses most of the fish off, who tease the fishermen’s bobbers relentlessly by giving it a few tugs and then swimming off. Most fish talk to their fish friends in fish bathrooms about how much the fisherman spent on the bait, and how they have no interest in catching a ride on a cheap lure. Step up your games fishermen! You have to get up pretty early to fool those fish (another similarity between fish and women). You need shiny tackle, smelly bait and a gigantic pole to catch the big fish. A huge pole. Plus, you have to have a remote location, otherwise your line my snag with another man’s line. If you’re too close, sometimes you can “cross swords.” You don’t want that. Trust me. How can this be fun?

The biggest turn off from fishing though, is the fact that there are no guarantees. Nothing says you will get a fish. That is horrible. To me, the only thing that is worse than standing in the freezing cold rain while thigh deep in the river for 12 hours with nothing but a fish to show for it is having absolutely nothing to show for it. Some might say “But you get memories…” Stop right there. That may be true on occasion, but how often do you foresee yourself turning to your dad, son or best friend and saying “Hey, remember that time we were fishing---“ and then they cut you off as if they know right where you are going to finish the thought and finish it with “and we didn’t catch anything?! Oh, I totally remember that! Yeah, that was awesome!” At least with clubbing you have the off chance of this happening because you can at least watch your friends get rejected and laugh about it later, or sometimes your friend Jerry just gets hammered and yells “Titties!” intermittently throughout the night when prompted by a loud siren noise. This happens more often than I care to admit. At any rate, I started writing this with every intention of convincing you that fishing isn’t as fun as people make it out to be, but now I just think women are fishy. 

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