Friday, April 27, 2012

An Open Letter to Angling Retirees

Those of us who work every day really hate are disgusted by are insanely jealous of those who ply the angle during the week. There you are, standing in our favorite haunt casting to fish that are out of our reach; living the dream.

You bastards!

Sure we skip out early once in a while and sometimes we tell the boss that we're at a client meeting and we steal some time on the water. But we lack the flexibility. A good hatch on the Farmington? You're there. Raining like the devil? You paint the bathroom.

And when we finally scratch a day on the water? Nothing keeps us off. Hell, we'll even fish if the tide is running in the wrong direction and the river is ten feet above flood stage. But more than our lack of quality fishing time, nothing bothers us more than to see someone out there when we're not.

Most of you stand there stoic. Plying the trade. It's as if you don't even care if you catch a fish. And you pretend that the rest of us don't exist. It's just you and the fish.

For the love of god, at least wave to us. We know it's the equivalent of you flipping us off, but when you just ignore us, it hurts. We can't live vicariously through you if we hate you. So, show some love. Turn the hate into something milder. Like insane jealousy.

But lest you think this turns us into pals, fear not because there are many reasons to harbor ill will. Those hours on the water allow you to develop encyclopedic knowledge of the river. You've waded it high, you've waded it low and even though your ancient legs are wobbly, you know the location of every stone and could wade it blind.

And you know where the fish live; perhaps the best reason for the deep resentment.

So fish away you bloody bastards. We'll gaze upon you longingly, hope to see a bent rod and pray that someday we'll join you down there on the water.

14 comments:

  1. I'm there Steve. Worked hard and long to be able to fish when I want and paint, well maybe not paint, but tie a few streamers instead.

    I truly hope someday to fish with you when you reach that great day.

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    1. Jeez, we better fish before then. I've got kids to put through school.

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  2. I am one of those old bastards Steve and an extremely happy old bastard too. I can fish when and where I want from Monday to Friday without being bothered by all you working heroes who clog our rivers and lochs at the weekends when we old bastards tend to stay indoors watching football and tying flies for the week ahead when the weekend "wankers" are back on the job.

    Take Care Until Retirement

    Ron

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  3. Whippersnapper, well written. You understand our side of the divide so well. And where did you get my picture?

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    1. I'm preparing myself for crossing over to the other side. I'm mentally ready. Chris passed along the photo but he must have photoshopped in a tooth.

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  4. I resemble this post. I do NOT look anything like the guy in the picture, Mike does. Besides, I always wave when you youngsters show up on the river and probably will talk to you if you're nice. I've put in my 40 years at the 9 to 5 grind and now that I'm retired (and still working my little fingers to the bone, writing) I spend as much time as I can fishing during the week, but not of weekends. To many knuckleheads (crap Obama used that word) out there. Smile, life is too short not to have fun.

    Mark

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    1. I aspire to resemble this post. Sooner vs later.

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  5. Damn I want to be an old retired bastard!

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  6. I'm bloody.

    Nice dig at the ancient wobbly legs.

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  7. Hope we can all get there...seems like a looooong way away. Plus, my working contines to fund my parents retirement :)

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    1. Yeah, it's definitely one of those illusions. The closer it gets the further away it seems.

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