Monday, May 4, 2020

RKS Bluebottle sets sail for greatness!

The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, 5th edition (aka DSM-5, the gold standard by which mental illness is diagnosed) defines "canoe over-acquisition syndrome" as a compulsion to purchase canoes such that the affected individual owns no fewer than 5 canoes, without the people, dogs, or other animate creatures to ride in them.

Luckily, I have only just purchased my fourth canoe, so I can sti
ll drive my own car to the supermarket for beer, instead of riding a janky riding mower in flipflops and socks.
Behold, the RKS Bluebottle, ready to disembark:

The RKS Bluebottle is a 15-foot Old Town Penobscot Solo.  A previous owner had shortened the thwart, pulling the sides of the canoe in and reducing the width at the gunnels by a good 4 inches, at least. This had the effect of making the boat faster, but considerably more tippy.  After replacing the thwarts with some that are basically stock width, the boat has become more genteel, a Percheron instead of a quarterhorse, if you will.  And like a Percheron, it makes for a much better fishing platform.

So I put in at Lake Pelham to try my luck.  There weren't many fishermen, but plenty of ospreys, like this one sunning herself, drying her wings:

Paddled around, fishing with a little crankbait, caught a few bass, a couple of crappie, one small and one decent, and a bunch of small white perch.

Felt like I was being watched,and sure enough, I was:

I spoke at great length with the groundhog, known to his friends as Chuck he tells me (short for woodchuck, of course), and he told me, in groundhog language, not English, you understand, because the groundhog physiology doesn't lend itself to the vocal fricative so essential to the Queen's tongue, that I should reject the DSM-5 as an arbitrary standard of sanity, and fuck it, buy more canoes, and build my own fleet, nay, my own armada, and ultimately, when the ice caps melt and the sea level is 500 miles inland, that I'll be king of the world, a la that guy in Waterworld, and that if I have to drive a John Deere to Safeway in the interim, well, that's just the price to pay for greatness.

Thursday, April 2, 2020

April 2, 2020 - The future is now!

Well now, I never expected this blog to become the widely-read information resource that it's become.  Instead, I expected it to be what ultimately disqualifies me from running for school board, or at least US House of Representatives.  Squares on the public dole aren't supposed to use foul language, I'm told.  But, widely-read I've become due to my mass appeal, or at least appeal to the 30-38 year old disaffected misanthrope demographic.

In any case, I haven't posted anything since 2018 because I've been napping since then.  Imagine my surprise when I emerged from my slumber today to discover the world has gone absolutely batshit insane due to something called, depending on what news resource you prefer, coronavirus, SARS-CoV-2, COVID-19, chinese flu, whatever.

I was going to make a joke there that included a slur, but didn't, because it might be against the terms of service for this blogging platform.  Now that platforms for expression are controlled, to a large extent, by private companies, it's hard to know what'll get you banned.  Too bad too, it was going to be a great joke - hilarious, and at the same time abhorrent and repulsive. Ask me sometime and I'll tell it to you.  Some local newspaper, like the Culpeper daily, should hire me for my insights.  Twenty dollars per insight, or 3 for $50.  That way, I'd make some money, have the protection of the press, and they'd have something worth printing for a change.

Anyway, here we are.  Or at least here I am, staying 6 feet and billions of electrons the hell away from you. Or at least I'm trying.  Sometimes I've got to go to the supermarket to buy necessities.  While there, I try to look my most contagious so people stay away.  It works.  While there, I can't help but notice the lady with the gloves on rubbing her nose, or the guy with the mask over his mouth, but not his nose, and I think, is this the best you can do, people?  If you aren't going to take care, leave the prophylactic measures for those who won't fuck it up.

Anyway, I've gotten a bit preachy there.  Reckon I need some light-hearted fishing related content. 

Went fishing this evening, got blown around by the wind, caught a bass and a crappie, both on a 1/32 oz crappie jig with a curly tail, watched the swallows, kingfishers, redwing blackbirds, saw some ospreys fishing, I was happy to note even less successfully than I.  Also saw the scourge of fishermen everywhere, cormorants. Cormorants should go back to the hell they came from.