FISH ON

Guess what, there's precisely zero reports of Covid-19 on Lake Whitney, Bosque County, Texas. No, not one. That in mind, I put some rods in the back of the rig and headed for water.

The dam spillway was churning, so I headed to the marina cleaning station. Perhaps there'd be piscine action off the still waters of the pier. And sure enough there was. A tug, hookset, and there it was, fish on, and a good one too.

I figured it was a catfish and sure enough it was. A decent fighter and all the more so for a light rod; had to tighten up the drag. Still, it was slow going until an off-chance cast from the side of the pier caught a rumble on the retrieve. 

Snap that rod to! Then BOOM, what a fight. Line out, rod double, calisthenic action. What was this thing, some kind of shark? No, just a monstrous carp. Seriously, a good five minutes fight to bring her in. Thought the line'd snap, but it didn't, fortunately.

Then a boat turned up full of kids, parents and a guide. Great result, they'd been out on the lake to catch striper and had a good cooler full. The little guys were especially proud and excited, which I loved. Kids with a fish, one of the best things. 

The guide, Clay, who's a jovial fellow, agreed, "Man, I just love it when kids get fish. They get to go free." Clay's a good man with a good setup, and when I told him I used Pat as a guide he said, " A fine guide and a fine man." I liked that, all true and then some.

Unlike, say, politicians, with the exception of Eva Peron and 45, who are loved by the people because they have the peoples' interests  at heart. 

As opposed to the ruling oligarchy's transnational, globalist elite, corrupt, asset-stripping, lying, pugnacious, venal, satanic get rich scheme masquerading as politics with you as the beneficiary.

Wake up and drive a stake through the heart of that beast.

Fish on,

LSP

Super Tuesday

Go to the dam and fish, what a great plan, elegant in its simplicity. But how did it work out? Slowly, to be honest, with the slipway waters churning and surging and the fish not biting. Who can blame them, they were surely shell-shocked by the current.

Pedro wasn't having any luck either at the other end of the pier, so I watched the mighty Brazos for a meditative moment or two then headed over to Soldiers' Bluff. Maybe the bite'd be on at the Bluff, which isn't a bluff anymore since it was flooded by the dammed up river.

Reflections on Brazos and Bosque County history aside, the waters of the lake were still and tranquil under the big sky and the bank was empty, peaceful. It had that topwater feel, but I went with worms instead.

Nothing, then a chime on the phone, a text, "I'm hoping for Sanders with plurality, a contested convention at which they hand it to Biden, and then RIOTS." This obviously worked as some kind of trigger because there was vicious tug on the line and out it played.

Up came a predatory socialist bass who was clearly in the business of snatching up free stuff. I put him back to find some other means of production to appropriate, before going berserk when Comrade Bernie's cheated of the nomination yet again. 

One more bass later, a baby, it was time to head for home, mission accomplished. And that, fellow adventurers on the roiling seas of life, is the story of that.

Fish on,

LSP