A couple days ago, I listed several things that I just don’t give a shit about. At the time I wrote it, I was going to include fishing, but I didn’t, knowing that it might be assumed that I am hostile to fishing, or, worse yet, disdainful of those who like to fish – nay, love to fish. Of course, I am neither. Several blog buddies are avid fishermen (GuyK, RedNeck, Dash, Yabu, Marcus and Catfish come immediately to mind).
So, to them I say, “Go forth and fish! Enjoy!”
For my part, fishing leaves me cold. Here are a few reasons why:
Fishing is icky, and it makes your hands stink.
Fishermen are always sticking their hands into nasty shit. Consider bait. Freshwater fishermen happily plunge their hands into a bucket of big ol’, doity woims. Salt water fisherman slice up stinky squid or mossbunker, or even use slimy live bait on their hooks (“Jimbo, ya gotta hook the little buggers in the eye”).
Of course, then there is also the handling of the fish that one catches. Slimy, fishy and sometimes messy, particularly when one has to rip a swallowed hook from the guts of the sorry ass fish. Then they have to be cleaned – more ick.
Invariably, after all this hand ick, it is time to unwrap your sandwich and eat lunch. Guess what a ham and cheese tastes like. It sure as shit doesn’t taste anything like ham and cheese. It tastes like fishing ick. (I don’t give a shit how much time you spend “washing” your hands, your hands and, therefore, your lunch still smell like fish ick.
Fishing screws up a wonderful boat ride or a really nice walk.
I positively love a boat ride. Salt water (bay or ocean) or fresh water (river or lake), there is nothing quite as nice as cruising along in a boat and mellowing out, sometimes with a cocktail or two. However, dragging a bunch of fishing stuff onto the boat icks up the boat to a fare-thee-well with fish ick, blood and gore. The boat ride becomes simply a means to move all over the place to find the farookin’ fish to shit the boat up even more.
The same holds true for fishing from places other than a boat. One day, quite a few years ago, I was coaxed into hanging with a colleague while he did some fly fishing accompanied by a super-avid fly fisherman. We worked our way down to a beautiful running stream, and they waded into the water to do their thing. I sat down on the bank and enjoyed the scenery and sounds, happy as hell that I wasn’t wearing waders and doing all the stuff they were doing (casting, flicking, flicking, casting, fly tying). It looked like a real pain in the ass to me, even though they seemed to enjoy it.
On the ride back, the super avid fly fisherman showed me the picture album he kept in his car. There must have been two hundred pictures of trout, each one with the fish posed next to the fisherman’s fishing rod, presumably to convey the fish’s size. Hundreds of pictures! WTF? Not knowing what to say, I simply smiled and said, “That’s really nice.”
Surf fishing: Same thing. A walk along the ocean is one of finer things in life, as is sitting on the beach and watching the surf or reading a good book, soothed by the sounds of the ocean. To me, it beats sticking stinky bait on a hook and casting a line into the surf, reeling in, baiting the hook again, casting, reeling in etc. etc., not to mention more fish ick on your hands from baiting the hook or from the fish itself if you happen to catch something.
Fishing is … well … boring.
I know that my fishing friends would disagree. They would point out that fishing is a contest between the fisherman and the fish and when they are not in competition, the fisherman can let his mind wander while waiting for a bite. Fine, but to me, it’s sitting there watching a piece of string (nylon or otherwise) sticking out of the water or a bobber floating on the water. It interferes with genuine daydreaming.
I see no reason for me to disaccommodate the fish of the world.
I don’t like to eat fish, which is an excellent reason for me not to bother the fish by jacking them out of water by a fishhook stuck in their mouths. And, obviously, the point of this post is that I just don’t think doing what one has to do produce the end result of jacking a fish out of the water is worth my bothering the fish.
Besides, seeing as how fish don’t bother me, I don’t see any need to bother them.
Finally, by my not fishing, there are more fish left for the fishing peeps of the world.
You’re welcome, fishing peeps.