Gone Fishing

I did most of my growing up in The Show Me State which for all intents and purposes is much more rustic and old fashioned than Wisconsin.  My technical readers may be shocked to learn that had my family not moved to Wisconsin when I was 15 I would no doubt be gainfully employed in the Lumber Industry of the Ozarks.  At any rate, I used to be seriously into fishing – this was perhaps the first incarnation of my Obsessive Research-Driven Hobby Syndrome (ORDHS).  I would pour over each new issue of the Bass Pro Shops catalog mixing and matching the combination of fishing gear that would create the Ultimate Rig.  I would later start to do this with computer parts, cars, and cooking ingredients.

Teenage life in Wisconsin took me away from the hobby entirely.  I haven’t been freshwater fishing in nearly 20 years.  I say freshwater because my father has enticed me a few times to hit the Gulf of Mexico and it’s been fun.  How could I have enjoyed Beer and Fishing separately for so long without putting the two together?  The same instigator took my daughter fishing two summers ago and let me tell you she still sits in the back yard with her Spongebob Squarepants rod and reel practicing.  There’s something about fishing that small kids tend to love.  The same little girl who reminds me not to unnecessarily step on ants has no qualms about demanding we catch and subsequently cook and eat wild fish.  That combined with my son having just turned two years old has left me feeling that I’m shirking some of my fatherly responsibilities.

Yesterday I purchased a Wisconsin fishing license and some ultralight spinning gear.  As soon as I figure out when and where, I’m going fishing!