I like to fish.
Odds are, if you came to my page you know that. Because it’s the title of the page. So I went fishing earlier this evening. I was gonna catch some sandbass. Others might know them as white bass, but here I call em sandbass or sandies. It’s an incredibly fun fish to catch, on account of they all fight like marlin whether they are 3pounds or 3 ounces. Anyway, that’s not really what I’m blogging about.
I caught one fish. It was awful, y’all. I tried everything, and nothing worked. Beside me, a man walked up with a surf rod and started casting to the moon. I’m serious. That man casted so far out, he reeled in my ambition. If he’d had 12 more feet of line, he’d have been able to catch my hopes and dreams. Anyway, he was sacking them. Every cast, he had a fish. He asked me if I wanted one, I said sure, and so from then on out, he just tossed fish at me when he caught them. Didn’t matter where I was standing. He just pitched em at me. FISH HAVE SPIKES. I don’t like spiky filets of pissed off fish just tossed hot potato style at my face. Thanks. Other than that, thanks dude, that was pretty cool of you.
I wound up with about 10 fish. Not a mess, exactly, but enough for a meal. My filet knife sucks, so I take them over to my in laws house to clean them. When I got there, we got the filet rig set up, and I started.
It is here that I would like to point out that I really like my father in law. We’ve had our out times, but for the most part, since my dad died, I’ve not had a real father figure in my life. This man has done what he can to fill the gap, without actually trying to fill the gap. Those of you who’ve lost a parent can probably relate to me here. The point I’m trying to make is, he’s a really cool guy, and I like and look up to and respect him a lot.
Anyway, I take the first filet off, and it starts. Mother In Law: “Is that all you get out of those big fish?” Me: “Yeah, I learned a long time ago that if you don’t take the red meat off, you can’t eat them.” MIL: “Oh. Hmmm.”
A couple minutes later… Father in Law: “Is that how you filet fish?” Me: “Yeah, I know I don’t get much off, but it keeps the nasty stuff off.” FIL: “You’re doing a fine job.” Me: “You want to show me how you do it? I’m open to suggestions.” FIL: “Nah… You’re doing just fine.”
There was about a ten minute pause. Then. FIL: “Travis, let me in there after one of them things. Me: (trying not to laugh) “Sure, go ahead. I’m gonna drink some tea and see if I can learn something.”
He fileted a fish, then handed me back the knife. This is where things got…odd. The Missus texted my brother in law to see if he wanted to go back fishing with us in the morning. He was slow on the reply, and this is the conversation that followed.
The Missus: “He’s slow sometimes on texting.”MIL: “He might be out chasing ladies.”Me: “That will probably be good for him.”
FIL: “You think he’s out tryna get some strange?”
What? What did you say, FIL? This man is 60 years old. And he just uttered the phrase, “tryna get some strange.” Sweet, sweet Moses. I almost fell over. I was in the middle of a filet, and I have got to give myself a lot of credit when I say I didn’t cut my fingers off. I just kind of stared at him. He laughed, and made a comment about how he kind of had a filthy mouth. Ummm… Yeah? My MIL didn’t get it, and I am still thanking Jesus that I didn’t have to be the one to explain it to her, or even be in the same room when it was explained to her. To this moment, I STILL don’t know if it was explained to her.
I’m going fishing with that man in the morning. I think I’m gonna teach him some new phrases. Just for the shock value. Hell, he might use them in church. Any ideas?