Kid-with-Fish Picture: Leon, Jerry and a Free Ticket

There’s something very romantic and nostalgic about a kid holding a fish–especially if it’s a first-catch. There’s that mix of pride, fear and joy that is far different than you find with most any other kid-meets-creature encounter.  Far different than the parent holding a camera shouting: “Nope.  Go back to where you just ran over that worm with your bike.  Get down on your hands and knees and smile!” It’s nothing like stepping on a spider or worm-steamrolling–both instances are necessary for sanity or unavoidable just after a rainy day…or one of my more vivid bits of cruelty as a child–Ray-of-Death with a magnifying glass and a pedestrian ant. And I’ve been that parent.  When we’re on the dock and accidentally actually catch something, it’s a big deal!  “Go get mom,” I would holler to the other kid.  “Have her bring her camera or phone or something!”  And there we… Read More…

The Bobber: A Life of Crime Diverted

It was a great fishing hole only a few blocks from our house in a suburb of Cincinnati.   My dad was transferred by Ford from Detroit and we were all still getting used to having so much nature around.  Crayfish and creeks were scarce in Detroit, but “craw-dads” were numerous in the “cricks” just down the street. There was a reservoir and a public park that offered a ledge where we took our gear on Saturdays.  I wasn’t having much luck but the kid next to me was.  Searching for the rationalization for my poor angler skills, I noticed that the other seven year-old had something I didn’t.  His bobber was red and white, while mine was yellow and orange.  That had to be it.  Apparently, the bass responded much better to the floating red plastic on the surface compared to the floating orange plastic on the surface.  Forty-one… Read More…