Who loves you, baby?
In the piscatorial sense, we are all whores. No one does right by any one place or species. We experience long stints of faithful behavior to certain waters, or intense periods of focus in pursuit of a single fish, and sometimes we believe in our hearts that we are true.
We are not. “I wish it would never end, this thing between me and you,” we tell the stripers all fall. “Forget about those albies that came rolling through in September. It was a lusty drunken physical thing.”
And then winter comes and the striped bass go scarce and as Hank Williams Jr.** sings it, “But sometimes Lord, she just ain’t always around.”
I got this little side thing going on down South.
There will be plenty of time for longing, until temptation comes via plane ticket. But it’ll all work out in the end. Northern pike were always my first anyhow.
*(paraphrasing Chris Rock)
**(Whiskey Bent and Hell Bound)
Pete McDonald
Your cheatin’ heart will make you weep
You’ll cry and cry and try to sleep
But slee-eep won’t come the whole night through
Your cheatin’ heart will tell on you
Great post, pete. All true .. very true.
Good stuff Pete. Too many fish in the sea..or not enough.
So true. My cheatin’ rod and I concur.
If you can’t be with the one you love, then love the one your with.
Tight lines
I know that my home waters give me the cold shoulder if I don’t come and spend quality time with them frequently. They can tell I’ve been seeing other rivers. They don’t like it, but they knew it was an open relationship.
That’s why I adhere to one simple rule in long-term romance as well as my piscatorial pursuits: once a week, whether you need it or not. It’s all about maintenance, boys (and, of course, girls).