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You can really get hooked on fishing

By: Jack Fabian, Special to The News Messenger
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What we hear is never as exciting as what we overhear. I was in the gym the other day and overheard a friend of mine telling his buddy about a fishing’ trip up on the Truckee River. He’s an avid stream fisherman, but on this particular morning, he ran out of bait and had to spend time walking the shoreline looking for something he could use for bait. After turning over many rocks, he spotted a little frog which would do just fine. He reached down to pick up the frog and it just wouldn’t budge. Rolling the rock back a bit more was when he discovered the frog was being held in the jaws of a rattlesnake.Q This friend of mine always carries a small flask of brandy when he goes fishing so he reached in his jacket pocket, uncapped it, and put a little brandy in the snake’s mouth. The snake let go of the frog and my friend had his bait. Pleased as heck, he baited his hook and began to fish again. After fishing a few minutes, he felt something bumping his leg. He looked down and there was a rattlesnake, with two more frogs. It’s so easy to become addicted. Of course, they don’t serve snakes in bars. They can’t hold their liquor. While we’re on the subject of fishing, I remember living in Kansas City in the ’50s. I drove to Wisconsin many times during those years and somebody mentioned it was an excellent place to go fishing. I was sure happy to hear that; it was a long way to go just for cheese. But when they’re talking about fishing in Wisconsin, they’re referring to ice fishing. Now, ice fishing takes a certain kind of individual. Just picture yourself getting up early on a winter morning, before daylight, and then driving your car out onto a frozen lake. There’s a certain risk involved here, kinda like selecting your Uncle Martin as a designated driver. You know better than that. Fortunately, these lakes develop a very thick layer of ice but the problem is you have to dig a hole though that stuff if you want to do some fishing. My first attempt at this sport was many years ago, and by the time we got the hole big enough to get the boat in, we were too tired to fish. I just drove back into town, got some cheese and headed back to Kansas City. As we drove home, we were discussing the fact that we were getting much older, the brain was flashing a “CHK ENGINE” light and our memories were headed the same way as the economy. It was then I remembered an Arizonian who had a world-recognized, phenomenal memory. I drove from Kansas City to Arizona just to see this guy in person. When I walked up to him, I asked him what he had had for breakfast on April 3, 1954. He said without any hesitation, “Two eggs.” I was amazed. Many years later, I drove all the way from Sacramento to Arizona to see him again. I got out of the car, walked over to him and said, “How”. He immediately replied, “Scrambled.” I’m not even sure what I had for breakfast this morning. Jack Fabian is a Lincoln resident.