I Needed More Time

I’m sure y’all have heard the saying, “You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.” Well, I have another one for you: “You can take a man to the lake, but you can’t teach him how to fish—if he won’t listen.” I’ll explain in just a minute.

We spent this past weekend at my cousin Ed’s place on Lake Ivie. It’s smack in the middle of nowhere, and as some of you might already know, I had no Internet service for almost three days. That, my friends was brutal! I spend my days writing and sending things out to you, my small band of readers, and to be cut off from you was like being sent into the wilderness for a few days!

But I made it through the situation, and it even allowed me to relax and enjoy the company and fellowship with Ed, and his wonderful wife, Debbie. They are two of the most gracious and loving people I know. Mom and Ray Brown were also there, so it was, indeed, a wonderful time.

Speaking of time, though, I needed a bit more of the fast moving commodity. It was kind of my fault, but I only got to go out on the boat fishing with Ed and Ray once—Sunday morning. I say it was my fault, because I could have went with them Saturday afternoon, but declined, choosing to stay in where it was seventy-five degrees, rather than to go out, where it was 101.

I realized the error, and selfishness, of my decision once we got out onto the lake Sunday morning and began to fish. Those two fellas had no idea what they were doing.

They had told us how they’d caught two giant crappie the day before, so I didn’t really give much thought to their abilities—until we got out on the water. Ed had all the cool gear; the best rods and reels, a great boat, and one of them depth/fish finder gizmos, but I guess a football uniform doesn’t make a feller a football player—if you get my drift.

Speaking of drifting, that’s what we’d been doing for a couple of hours, and nobody had caught anything, and as soon as I got a hold of what I was dealing with—amateurs—I reeled my line in. I was real nonchalant about it, not wanting them to know what I was up to, but what I did was get my baited hook up about eight feet from the top of the water, so I was reasonably sure not to catch anything. I thought the guys would feel better if they got to hook one before I did.

They both kept losing their bait on trees and brush, and I was really starting to feel sorry for them. We were, in fact, almost out of bait, when I decided I would—as casually as possible, mind you—show them how it was done. I glanced over at the depth finder, checking to see how deep the water was and at what depth the fish were, then silently and quickly let out my line until I knew I was at just the right depth.     To be continued! (click here —> Part Two to read the climactic ending to this thrilling story now!)


  1. Sherry Mashburn said

    Dang it!! I hate it when you do that! I was there and I don’t know the “reel” story!!!!! Can’t wait to hear the end.

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