I took this picture to disprove the myth. Look a banana on board, while catching fish. Ha ha!
Since I took this picture my magazine got sold and moved to Florida, my cat got messed up, I got tagged doing 80 in a 45, and I broke my best rod hours before my best trip.
I have brought this on myself. As the late great John Belushi said, “that’s not bad luck that’s dumb luck.”
The Last Straw: One of my best buds drunk dials me and I listen to the message for the vicarious value, and he’s doing laundry by himself at midnight because his dog threw up on the bed and his wife is vexed. He is drinking rum and listening to Hootie and the Blowfish. So vile and absurd is the mental imagery that I cannot process it.
Enough. Whatever I did to offend the gods of fishing and sensibility, whatever demons of poor choices in music I have unleashed, I take it back.
How does one break such a curse? Maybe try taking a goat fishing.
I got a couple out back, I’ll give that a try.