One Of The Best Days Of My Life
Abby, our boxer, woke me up about 0700 by snorting and slobbering at my bedside. I surmised that she wanted to go out. Thus, I walked downstairs and opened the outside door and she just stood there, looking at me. Ahh, she wanted food, not out, I told her she shouldn’t wake me up on a day off, that it wasn’t time for breakfast, and to go back to sleep. Abby, always the good dog otherwise, did just that as did I. A couple more hours go by and Jeffy and I finally wake, feed Abby her old dog diet prescription dog food and start to load the truck. Day’s list: Clay launcher, 12 gauge shotgun, shells, clays. Rifle, pistol for target range and targets and stapler to put targets up. Long Bow, target arrows for 3-D archery range. Waders, 4 foot spin casting rods and short fly rods for brook trout fishing, Michigan Style. Lots of flies and tackle. Cooler, Mountain Dew and snickers for Boy, bottled water, apples and oranges for Old Man On Prescription Diet, off we go. Crap, remembered everything except cash, check wallet, shoot, only 10 bucks. Oh well, we have everything we need.
The one hour drive into the Seney National Forest was “totally cool” as Jeffy would say. Passing over river after river, seeing deer, and eagles and cedar forests, really made the time go by. I had a rough map drawn by a nurse that fishes up in here with her husband sometimes---so I missed a couple turns, but finally found the stream she was talking about. Sorry, I still am not sure of the name of it. Jeffy was whining a bit, it was a long ride, and he’d still rather be back in Ohio with his gaming buddies he said. Well, after multiple tries upstream with flies and even worms, no trout. Jeffy was thinking about calling it a day when he hooked into a beautiful little 6 inch brookie a few minutes later. It was pretty exciting to see that trout dangling from his line---not so exciting to see it drop off though. Anyway, the chase was on, he tasted blood. Soon it was, “I can do it Dad”, “let me take to rod Dad.” I was so proud of him, so happy to see him get the fishing bug. I wished my Dad, his Grand Dad could be here, seeing him get excited about it and take control. Most of the rest of the time I was busy changing hooks and bait for him. He caught another that was a bit bigger. Too bad the big one got him snagged on some logs. I almost didn’t have the heart to tell him that he wasn’t snagged at first, that the bouncing log was a big trout---but as all wise and big old trout do, he found a log and took some fishing line around it. I wonder what kind of old trout prescription diet he’s on, hah. That Old Trout is still partying and carousing and eating any kind of food he wants and all kinds of sickly bugs and and I bet HE never had a low fat lunch. Maybe I should have just been a trout.
Well, it was time to go, I was getting very hungry after my breakfast of a banana and coffee and we both wanted to shoot. So, we went back to Seney and found the first diner, nope, don’t take credit cards. Found a little bar and grill in MacMillen, nope, don’t take credit cards. Remember, I was out of cash,. Finally, almost to Newberry, we found a family restaurant that had the VISA sticker in the window. It was a war zone in there. The tourist breakfast crowd had destroyed the place, There must have been 20 tables with empty plates and discarded food on them. So much for the bad economy and gas crisis—looks like Michigan folks are touring Michigan again instead of California, Florida, etc. The waitress was the busboy, waitress, hostess and cashier. That’s the U.P factor at work, don’t be in a hurry my friend. Fortunately, there was a salad and soup bar with three soups. Beef barley, chicken noodle, and split pea so we could start eating low fat food right away. Jeffy then began to say he wasn’t hungry anyway, that he didn’t want to eat and wished he were back in Ohio, he was pouting. He said that the fishing was ok, but he’d rather be back with his buddies. I looked at his blue eyes, then I looked at the rain come down on the parking lot and can’t remember feeling as sad as I was. I saw my father’s face and remembered him taking me brook trout fishing for the first time, and I remembered it rained that day too. I didn’t say anything at first, then, with my voice choking, I said, “ Jeffy, I would give anything to have one more day with my father, even just one more hour, just one more day, one more day. Maybe now you don’t see that, but someday, you will want to be here with me having those chicken wings.”
It rained all the way to the shooting range and then it rained as we parked there. Jeffy said, “let’s give it 15 minutes”. 15, 20, 30 went by and finally, it stopped. We proceeded to shoot over 60 rounds. Jeffy connected on about the 6th clay, remembering to put all his elements together. He was feeling very confident towards the end, and challenged me to a duel. He said, best out of three and if I win I get a 25 dollar game for the X-Box and if you win, I owe you 5 hours of work. I said, it would be best if your Christian heart would just work for you Dad for free, but ok, it’s a deal. He won round one with ¾ clays. I won round two with a perfect 4/4. Then, I couldn’t hit anything, 0/4 and Jeffy ¾. Thus, Jeffy 2, Dad 1. He began round three with 2/2 and then missed the next two. I found the zone, and hit 3/3 when he conceded. The barrel was so hot at times we had to let it cool. However, his newfound excitement about our time together could not be cooled. Despite his loosing the competition, I think he realized he won something greater. He won, stole away from fate, an incredible day with his Dad. I think, although he didn’t say it, it was one of the best days of his life. I know for sure, it was one of mine. I know MY Dad was there with us the whole time, trying to find us a trout or two, watching his grand son shoot clays like an expert. What a day, what a day indeed, One of The Best Days Of Life. Hey, you know what’s “funny”, I haven’t heard a word about friends, Ohio, or being anywhere else in the 4 hours we have been back home!
From the Naubinway Nook, I am, despite a low fat diet, a happy father, best wishes,
Jeff
Monday, July 21, 2008
Friday, July 11, 2008
Fishing, A Few Good Men
Fishing.
Sadly, the family, and our friends Tom and Gale and family had to return to Findlay. So, I was left with the big complex, an empty beach, house, garages, yard, more room than any man should have. More room than I deserve. I contemplated my options, work more on the house and yard, go trout fishing, or try to launch the boat alone and go lake fishing. The struggle between work and play was easy. I quickly ruled out more carpentry, and focused on the fishing. I resolved to go trout fishing. However, as I put my fly fishing gear together and looked at my waders, the temperature of the day began to rise and the sun came out in its greatest glory. In one view I saw myself walking thru the brush of the river in the 70 degree plus heat (yeah, that’s heat for me now)---and then a comparative view came to me. This second view was of me tooling around the lake with the big mercury quietly propelling me thru the waves, wind on my scalp (used to be wind in my hair), an ice cold diet vernors in my hand, etc., and that vision eventually won out. We had company next door that day, and as I hitched up the boat to the truck my neighbor asked if I needed help. I think he was kind of asking if he could go. Now, I like my neighbors a lot, even though they are here for a long time, about 3 weeks out of the year. But I really wanted to see how I would do launching and landing the boat alone, and I just needed some time alone, so I declined his offer for “help”. I quickly hitched up the boat and drove the 7 miles to Lake Millicoquins. This time I remembered to put in the drain plug before launching. This time I backed up expertly and easily launched the boat. I pulled it off the trailer and moved it aside and parked the truck. Too bad some grizzled Yoopers weren’t watching me this day. Usually they see me crashing the trailer into the dock, or stand there watching and laughing as the boat starts to sink because I forgot the drain plug. Anyway, as usual, the new Mercury Outboard started on the first key stroke and I was off. I hadn’t had the boat up to 34 mph in a while, impossible to do while tubing or with company in the boat, but it came easy to her with just me in the boat. I know that’s not very fast by today’s bass boat standards, but it’s plenty fast for me now. After doing multiple figure eights and traversing the entire lake twice with the oldies but goodies station on the radio I settled down to fishing. I fished along the edge of the weedbeds that Eddy and I did so well in for pike last year, but this time without success. I fished for an hour by spin-casting without a fish, even though I saw many jumping. I took out the 7 weight fly rod on a whim then and put the big mouse pattern on. Still,no success on the edge of the weeds. Fortunately, I threw a very bad cast up into the lilies and was cursing my inadequacy when there was a voracious eruption and the water literally boiled from the weeds strait up at my mouse and it was devoured by a very large, very feisty fish. I thought it was a pike because he sounded to the bottom of the weed beds and I thought I was snagged in the weeds because I couldn’t budge the rod. I was contemplating breaking off when all of a sudden the line loosened and I saw the flash of the fish. After about 5 more minutes I landed the largest small-mouth bass of my life. I don’t know how much he weighed, because I released him without harm while his tail was still in the water. I do know that he was the largest I ever caught, and I thanked him for teaching me how to catch smallies in that lake on a sunny day. The rest of his buddies probably didn’t thank him as they tasted my hook throughout the afternoon. In any case, it’s obvious that it’s called “fishing” instead of “catching” because it’s rare for any technique or method to work the same way twice. You have to adapt, you have to improvise, you have to overcome. I’ve learned this much at least from the best men on earth, the Marines. I’m sure looking forward to taking a Few Good Men with me out there again, and find out what works the next time!!! It’s so good to know I don’t have that kind of struggle to find the best friend on earth. I don’t have to go fishing for a friend. I have the best friends a man could have, such as Eddy, and Ron, and Scott, and on and on, the proud, the few, those U.S. Marines.
Sadly, the family, and our friends Tom and Gale and family had to return to Findlay. So, I was left with the big complex, an empty beach, house, garages, yard, more room than any man should have. More room than I deserve. I contemplated my options, work more on the house and yard, go trout fishing, or try to launch the boat alone and go lake fishing. The struggle between work and play was easy. I quickly ruled out more carpentry, and focused on the fishing. I resolved to go trout fishing. However, as I put my fly fishing gear together and looked at my waders, the temperature of the day began to rise and the sun came out in its greatest glory. In one view I saw myself walking thru the brush of the river in the 70 degree plus heat (yeah, that’s heat for me now)---and then a comparative view came to me. This second view was of me tooling around the lake with the big mercury quietly propelling me thru the waves, wind on my scalp (used to be wind in my hair), an ice cold diet vernors in my hand, etc., and that vision eventually won out. We had company next door that day, and as I hitched up the boat to the truck my neighbor asked if I needed help. I think he was kind of asking if he could go. Now, I like my neighbors a lot, even though they are here for a long time, about 3 weeks out of the year. But I really wanted to see how I would do launching and landing the boat alone, and I just needed some time alone, so I declined his offer for “help”. I quickly hitched up the boat and drove the 7 miles to Lake Millicoquins. This time I remembered to put in the drain plug before launching. This time I backed up expertly and easily launched the boat. I pulled it off the trailer and moved it aside and parked the truck. Too bad some grizzled Yoopers weren’t watching me this day. Usually they see me crashing the trailer into the dock, or stand there watching and laughing as the boat starts to sink because I forgot the drain plug. Anyway, as usual, the new Mercury Outboard started on the first key stroke and I was off. I hadn’t had the boat up to 34 mph in a while, impossible to do while tubing or with company in the boat, but it came easy to her with just me in the boat. I know that’s not very fast by today’s bass boat standards, but it’s plenty fast for me now. After doing multiple figure eights and traversing the entire lake twice with the oldies but goodies station on the radio I settled down to fishing. I fished along the edge of the weedbeds that Eddy and I did so well in for pike last year, but this time without success. I fished for an hour by spin-casting without a fish, even though I saw many jumping. I took out the 7 weight fly rod on a whim then and put the big mouse pattern on. Still,no success on the edge of the weeds. Fortunately, I threw a very bad cast up into the lilies and was cursing my inadequacy when there was a voracious eruption and the water literally boiled from the weeds strait up at my mouse and it was devoured by a very large, very feisty fish. I thought it was a pike because he sounded to the bottom of the weed beds and I thought I was snagged in the weeds because I couldn’t budge the rod. I was contemplating breaking off when all of a sudden the line loosened and I saw the flash of the fish. After about 5 more minutes I landed the largest small-mouth bass of my life. I don’t know how much he weighed, because I released him without harm while his tail was still in the water. I do know that he was the largest I ever caught, and I thanked him for teaching me how to catch smallies in that lake on a sunny day. The rest of his buddies probably didn’t thank him as they tasted my hook throughout the afternoon. In any case, it’s obvious that it’s called “fishing” instead of “catching” because it’s rare for any technique or method to work the same way twice. You have to adapt, you have to improvise, you have to overcome. I’ve learned this much at least from the best men on earth, the Marines. I’m sure looking forward to taking a Few Good Men with me out there again, and find out what works the next time!!! It’s so good to know I don’t have that kind of struggle to find the best friend on earth. I don’t have to go fishing for a friend. I have the best friends a man could have, such as Eddy, and Ron, and Scott, and on and on, the proud, the few, those U.S. Marines.
Ok, Ok, Ok, yes, I’m still alive!!!! I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a month---but that actually reflects a good thing. You see, I have been so involved with celebrating 25 incredible years of marriage with Jomay, taking kids tubing, entertaining company at the Nook---that I just haven’t spent much time on-line. Jomay and I just returned from a Bed and Breakfast in Saginaw, Michigan where we celebrated our 25th. The B and B is a restored 1920’s mansion and we rented the biggest suite they had. Jo Jo had talked to a friend about it before we went and she asked “so are you prepared?” Jomay took that to heart and brought champagne, chocolates, my favorite snacks and even bought a new very soft pink nightie that she wore. Needless to say we enjoyed the hot tub and I enjoyed the nightie very much. But more importantly, really, were the long walks along the river, in the gardens, the dinner together in the dining room which we had to OURSELVES. The executive chef came out twice just to talk and asked how things were. We really re-discovered how much we love each other, more than ever. I’m reminded of several biblical references about “preparing”. How the room for the last supper was prepared, how many years and experiences it took Moses to be prepared, how many years the Hebrews wandered in the desert before they were prepared to enter the promised land. It is a tremendous blessing to be prepared to meet my wife and celebrate our life together. I feel as if I am prepared for another 25 years. I certainly pray and hope for that. This move has not been easy, being away for days at a time. However, the absence has only strengthened our resolve. Yeah, maybe absence makes the heart grow fonder thing applies, I don’t know. But Jomay has just always been the gal that gets better looking inside and out the more I get to know her. Just when I think I have discovered everything about her, some new turn of her face, or thing she says, captivates me as if for the first time. There was a journal in the Suite we stayed in that previous guests had entries in. There were many stories of hoping the stay at the B and B would re-kindle romance, heal the pain of an affair---many guests were not married, they were living “in sin” so it goes. As I read thru the pages of people saying they were married there at the B and B, or came back to stay where they were married---most were married for 2, 5, or the longest, 7 years. Wow, I thought to myself, 25 years is long by today’s standards. Sure, I know couples married for 50, even 70 years. Unfortunately, that is the exception anymore. That is a good word for us, the “exception”, in love more than ever after 3 kids, career changes, drama and trauma that we all experience living this life. Thank God we were prepared in some way for all of it, Thank God we are prepared to make this move and weather every storm. Thank God he gave me my soul mate. Thank God he prepared me to move to Florida and go to college there and find the most beautiful woman in the whole world.
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