For months my world is calm, floating peacefully in a glass like sea. All is well, kids are great, new grandbaby, fishing has been outstanding. My artwork is starting to spread around the country and my writings are being asked for. My wife is a wonderful woman from whom I could ask for no more. Suddenly in the middle of that sparkling calm sea comes a wind shear.
Like a great Noreaster, the world around me starts to waver. The calmness is fading. My steady float has been disrupted by a severe cross wind. Turbulence has been created under my little raft of life. Crashing in from all sides, ideas and opinions are like the monstrous seas in the middle of a typhoon. Just as I break the top of one curling white cap and think I see calm water, another unseen wave of disruption comes crashing down . But my little raft, built with love and perseverance, heart and a strong will, holds steady as my life begins to spin.
Slowly at first, then like the rush of a washing machine on full spin cycle. Who's wrong? Who's right? A plea for calm and understanding. An attack on the soul. From every direction at once. I begin spiral helplessly. Into the vortex my life is engulfed.
As I look around at the trials of life spinning viciuosly by, I see a glimpse of hope. My wife is there, by my side. She is supporting me even if, for some reason, I can not quite see it. My youngest son, just 13 but wise for his age, allows me to rant and then speaks calmly of things that he most know will relieve my termoil. What I thought was an endless spin into a life of regret and lonliness is fading. The seas are subsiding.
Allowing me to speak. Letting me ramble on about things that are really not important or relevant to what is really happenning, my family is the light at the bottom of the vicious spiral.
I ease my way slowly back into the calmness for which I am so fond. My life will get back to normal, and it will not take long. The spinning has ended and the seas are only slightly choppy. By the end of the day I will once again see my relection on the mirror surface of the sea of life.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Just My Opinion
For some reason, there are those around all of us, who think their ideas and opinions are more valuable and should be heard over those of others. I know I am not always right. I understand my opinions might ocassionally offend someone, but that is never my intention. If I am wrong, I admit it. If my wrong doings have hurt or offended someone I try to apologize or make it right as soon as possible, and take responsibility for my actions. Many others refuse to do so. To tell me, publicly, that my opinions are stupid and that I should keep them to myself is about as hypocritical as one can get. To voice an opinion telling someone else to not voice their opinion is, in my eyes, wrong.
It seems to me that a person giving their opinion that someone else should not give their opinion is putting themselves at a higher level than the one they are criticizing. If you think you are so much better then someone that your opinion should be heard whereas theirs should not, there is definitely some confusion going on somewhere.
I am a good person, and I know that in my heart. I do not wish bad for anyone, even those I do not care for. I do my best to get along with everyone, even when I would rather not be in the company of some of them. To attack me because I voiced concern for a member of my family is wrong and hurtful.
I made an assumption and was wrong. I admitted it in public as soon as I possibly could and took responsibility, but I was attacked. If those that treated me wrongly choose to believe they are right and did no wrong,well, so be it.
I do not understand why it is so hard for so many people to face the fact and admit to themselves and others that they were wrong. I believe that seeing faults in yourself and taking responsibility for those shortcomings only makes us a stronger and better individual as life progresses. Should we no longer pass on to our children to do to others as you wish them to do to you. Should we teach our children and grandchildren that the opinions of others should not be heard. An opinion is just an opinion. Noone has to agree with it. All the same, no one should attack a person because they disagree with the others opinion.
I openly welcome criticism, good or bad, but to tell me that my opinion should not be heard can only be taken to mean that they are not as important as others.
I am just as good, and important, of a person as anyone else and deserve the respect that the others around me are given. If anyone feels that I do not deserve that respect then they should probably not take an interest in my life or what I have to say. If you are one of those people and feel compelled to continue to criticise me destructively whenever I make a mistake, well there is nothing I can do about that. I wish you well.
It seems to me that a person giving their opinion that someone else should not give their opinion is putting themselves at a higher level than the one they are criticizing. If you think you are so much better then someone that your opinion should be heard whereas theirs should not, there is definitely some confusion going on somewhere.
I am a good person, and I know that in my heart. I do not wish bad for anyone, even those I do not care for. I do my best to get along with everyone, even when I would rather not be in the company of some of them. To attack me because I voiced concern for a member of my family is wrong and hurtful.
I made an assumption and was wrong. I admitted it in public as soon as I possibly could and took responsibility, but I was attacked. If those that treated me wrongly choose to believe they are right and did no wrong,well, so be it.
I do not understand why it is so hard for so many people to face the fact and admit to themselves and others that they were wrong. I believe that seeing faults in yourself and taking responsibility for those shortcomings only makes us a stronger and better individual as life progresses. Should we no longer pass on to our children to do to others as you wish them to do to you. Should we teach our children and grandchildren that the opinions of others should not be heard. An opinion is just an opinion. Noone has to agree with it. All the same, no one should attack a person because they disagree with the others opinion.
I openly welcome criticism, good or bad, but to tell me that my opinion should not be heard can only be taken to mean that they are not as important as others.
I am just as good, and important, of a person as anyone else and deserve the respect that the others around me are given. If anyone feels that I do not deserve that respect then they should probably not take an interest in my life or what I have to say. If you are one of those people and feel compelled to continue to criticise me destructively whenever I make a mistake, well there is nothing I can do about that. I wish you well.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Maybe I Am A Redneck After All
Yesterday was a day I will most likely never forget, and it really opened my eyes to a few things I had never seriously looked at before.
As I shook hands with a man from southern Michigan, who I had just met and was taking fishing in a kayak for his first time, we stood in the rain looking down the gravel walk to the pool below the dam where we would begin our day. It was a steady rain, but warm so it was not uncomfortable just wet. We hauled or supplies for the day down the 150 yard walk and to the rivers edge where we loaded it into the kayak and I gave a brief instructional on what not to do in the kayak if we wanted to stay upright.
2 men, 4 fishing rods and reels, my 2 tackle boxes, his back pack tackle carrier, a cooler full of food and drinks, and a camera case, I never really paid that much attention to how much stuff would actually fit safely in my kayak.
The river was down quite low so I stepped into the 4 inch deep water and pulled the kayak full of gear a hundred feet or so down stream to where the water was deep enough for my new fishing partner and I to both get in without scraping the bottom off my kayak. We only floated about 200 yards before I had to step out again adnd drag us through another shallow area. Standing in shin deep water in my tennis shoes and jeans while the rain now poured on us, I realized it never really bothered me to be fully clothed trompsing around in the muck and silt of the local lakes and rivers, all the while being in the midst of a torential down pour.
A couple hours down river, and a dozen or so fish caught and released or put on the stringer, we decided it was time for a break. I pulled the kayak to a weedy, yet stable, section of the shoreline where we both got out and enjoy some lunch during a temporary break in the rain. As we stood there eating our sandwiches, gazing at the beauty that surrounded us it dawned on me. I was eating my sandwich with my bare hands that were definitely a bit smelly and covered with fish slime, and I really did not care.
Another couple hours down river we pulled into the local campground where a couple of my fishing buddies from Ohio were camping. We unloaded the kayak and dumped out the 100 pounds or so of water that was laying in the bottom and met my friends as they were just pulling in off the lake from a morning of fishing. We were due for a break and had 7 nice smallmouth bass on the stringer that I really wanted to fillet and get in the cooler. My friends from Ohio invited us to their campsites where they were kind enough to let me use their filet knife and a couple of baggies to put the fillets in. A I stood their filleting the fish the sky began to rumble with distant thunder. In no time that distant thunder was on top of us and the sky erupted with a bolt of lightning and a load crack. One of my buddies asked if I wanted some rain gear and I just said " No thanks, I will be done shortly." as I stood there with fillet knife and fish carcas in hand as the water streamed off my the bill of my cap.
Back on the water we made our we further down river to the main lake where we were going to fish for crappies. Along the way we had to stop and unload so we could drain out water once again for what had been just a steady rain most of the day became a monsoon like storm between the campground and the lake. Our gear was practically floating in the kayak and I joked about having a live well.
The rain subsided a bit as we made it to the lake. We managed to catch a few fish and jokingly curse when the it decided to pour on us again. After putting a few nice crappies on the stringer, we decided it was probably time to start heading to the landing and calling it a day. Just before we started paddling to the landing I said to my new fishing buddy, " It sure would be nice if the clouds went away and the sun came out just long enough for us to get to the landing and load up our stuff." Believe it or not, this is the honest truth, it was not 2 minutes later when the clouds started to seperate and were replaced by a bright blue sky with the sun shining high.
My wife and son were at the access site where we had spotted my partners truck. I did not want him to go home with whole fish so I looked for a place where I could fillet the crappies we had on the stringer. The park bench would do as it was sure to rain again shortly and wash off any scales or other fish debris that might be left from my filleting. As I knelt down at the bench I just chuckled to myself thinking, who would carry a fillet knife in the glove box of their pick up truck. I gave my fellow fisherman the bags of fillets and wished him a safe trip home and invited him up anytime.
As my son, my wife and I pulled back into our driveway I just had to look around and smile. Yes we live in a trailer. It is not a real nice trailer but we keep it clean, sometimes cluttered, but clean. The lawn is not always mowed, but enough. There are deer antlers nailed to our porch and on our living room wall, where there is also a mounted duck, a pheasant, a crappie, the tails of a pheasant and a partridge, a chipmunk skin, and on my youngest sons wall is the skin of the 1st raccoon we ever trapped together.
It really hit me right there and I had to admit to myself, "Maybe I am a redneck after all."
As I shook hands with a man from southern Michigan, who I had just met and was taking fishing in a kayak for his first time, we stood in the rain looking down the gravel walk to the pool below the dam where we would begin our day. It was a steady rain, but warm so it was not uncomfortable just wet. We hauled or supplies for the day down the 150 yard walk and to the rivers edge where we loaded it into the kayak and I gave a brief instructional on what not to do in the kayak if we wanted to stay upright.
2 men, 4 fishing rods and reels, my 2 tackle boxes, his back pack tackle carrier, a cooler full of food and drinks, and a camera case, I never really paid that much attention to how much stuff would actually fit safely in my kayak.
The river was down quite low so I stepped into the 4 inch deep water and pulled the kayak full of gear a hundred feet or so down stream to where the water was deep enough for my new fishing partner and I to both get in without scraping the bottom off my kayak. We only floated about 200 yards before I had to step out again adnd drag us through another shallow area. Standing in shin deep water in my tennis shoes and jeans while the rain now poured on us, I realized it never really bothered me to be fully clothed trompsing around in the muck and silt of the local lakes and rivers, all the while being in the midst of a torential down pour.
A couple hours down river, and a dozen or so fish caught and released or put on the stringer, we decided it was time for a break. I pulled the kayak to a weedy, yet stable, section of the shoreline where we both got out and enjoy some lunch during a temporary break in the rain. As we stood there eating our sandwiches, gazing at the beauty that surrounded us it dawned on me. I was eating my sandwich with my bare hands that were definitely a bit smelly and covered with fish slime, and I really did not care.
Another couple hours down river we pulled into the local campground where a couple of my fishing buddies from Ohio were camping. We unloaded the kayak and dumped out the 100 pounds or so of water that was laying in the bottom and met my friends as they were just pulling in off the lake from a morning of fishing. We were due for a break and had 7 nice smallmouth bass on the stringer that I really wanted to fillet and get in the cooler. My friends from Ohio invited us to their campsites where they were kind enough to let me use their filet knife and a couple of baggies to put the fillets in. A I stood their filleting the fish the sky began to rumble with distant thunder. In no time that distant thunder was on top of us and the sky erupted with a bolt of lightning and a load crack. One of my buddies asked if I wanted some rain gear and I just said " No thanks, I will be done shortly." as I stood there with fillet knife and fish carcas in hand as the water streamed off my the bill of my cap.
Back on the water we made our we further down river to the main lake where we were going to fish for crappies. Along the way we had to stop and unload so we could drain out water once again for what had been just a steady rain most of the day became a monsoon like storm between the campground and the lake. Our gear was practically floating in the kayak and I joked about having a live well.
The rain subsided a bit as we made it to the lake. We managed to catch a few fish and jokingly curse when the it decided to pour on us again. After putting a few nice crappies on the stringer, we decided it was probably time to start heading to the landing and calling it a day. Just before we started paddling to the landing I said to my new fishing buddy, " It sure would be nice if the clouds went away and the sun came out just long enough for us to get to the landing and load up our stuff." Believe it or not, this is the honest truth, it was not 2 minutes later when the clouds started to seperate and were replaced by a bright blue sky with the sun shining high.
My wife and son were at the access site where we had spotted my partners truck. I did not want him to go home with whole fish so I looked for a place where I could fillet the crappies we had on the stringer. The park bench would do as it was sure to rain again shortly and wash off any scales or other fish debris that might be left from my filleting. As I knelt down at the bench I just chuckled to myself thinking, who would carry a fillet knife in the glove box of their pick up truck. I gave my fellow fisherman the bags of fillets and wished him a safe trip home and invited him up anytime.
As my son, my wife and I pulled back into our driveway I just had to look around and smile. Yes we live in a trailer. It is not a real nice trailer but we keep it clean, sometimes cluttered, but clean. The lawn is not always mowed, but enough. There are deer antlers nailed to our porch and on our living room wall, where there is also a mounted duck, a pheasant, a crappie, the tails of a pheasant and a partridge, a chipmunk skin, and on my youngest sons wall is the skin of the 1st raccoon we ever trapped together.
It really hit me right there and I had to admit to myself, "Maybe I am a redneck after all."
Saturday, June 26, 2010
The Fog Has Lifted
These days I see life through a fine crystal, clear and sharp, no foggy haze of my youth to cloud my judgements and perceptions of the world around me. And though the fog has lifted many of my ideals and beliefs remain the same.
I always have, and always will, believe that a man should work for what he has. A man should provide for himself and his family, and be a productive member of society. Granted there are people who really can not function due to severe physical or mental limitations, but for the most part men are capable of being the provider, or at least sharing that responsibility.
We now live in a society where men are more than willing to sit on there butts and make up excuses for why they are not working. The disability factor has risen drastically in the past 15 years, and a big percentage of it is a farse, yet they are allowed to get away with it. Why is it that the working man, and woman, often have to struggle to survive and have little more than, and sometimes not all of, the necessities of life. Meanwhile Joe slacker is sitting on his couch or in his deer blind, laughing at us supporting him.
I am very close to a certain individual who works in a grocery store and has for 6 years. that person has seen the same individuals come in year after year with their bridge card (food stamps) in hand. Purchase their food, which I am paying for, then make a call on their cell phone and jump in their car to head back to their house that we are paying for. They have heat because I work for a living. They have electric because I work for a living. And now they are passing it on from generation to generation.
At one point in my life I was in a desperate situation and needed some temporary assistance. While sitting in the social services (dss) office, embarrassed to be there,a young man comes in with his forms. Not being able to prevent myself from eaves dropping I listened in as the lady at the counter asked him several questions. He was 18. He was getting cash assistance. He was getting food assistance. He was living with his older brother and he was also getting assistance. He stumbled over one of the question so he went to the car and brought in his mom. She was also getting assistance and was driving a very nice suv.
Now maybe there was some reason he could not work. Maybe I was to quick to judge. But really.
I know jobs can be difficult to find right now, but they can be found.
My 19 year old joined the Marines to guarantee himself work. There are very few men in this country that would be turned down by any of the armed services.
My 21 year old son has 2 jobs. Has worked a good part of his young adult life and is currently supporting his girlfriend and their 2 children, along with his girlfriends mom, (we will not go into that). He had some legal problems as a teenager and young adult and spent a little time in jail. Nothing major just stupid mistakes. He has tattoos all over his body, and yet he is able to get 2 jobs and be a productive member of society.
Something just is not right and it really burns me up.
I always have, and always will, believe that a man should work for what he has. A man should provide for himself and his family, and be a productive member of society. Granted there are people who really can not function due to severe physical or mental limitations, but for the most part men are capable of being the provider, or at least sharing that responsibility.
We now live in a society where men are more than willing to sit on there butts and make up excuses for why they are not working. The disability factor has risen drastically in the past 15 years, and a big percentage of it is a farse, yet they are allowed to get away with it. Why is it that the working man, and woman, often have to struggle to survive and have little more than, and sometimes not all of, the necessities of life. Meanwhile Joe slacker is sitting on his couch or in his deer blind, laughing at us supporting him.
I am very close to a certain individual who works in a grocery store and has for 6 years. that person has seen the same individuals come in year after year with their bridge card (food stamps) in hand. Purchase their food, which I am paying for, then make a call on their cell phone and jump in their car to head back to their house that we are paying for. They have heat because I work for a living. They have electric because I work for a living. And now they are passing it on from generation to generation.
At one point in my life I was in a desperate situation and needed some temporary assistance. While sitting in the social services (dss) office, embarrassed to be there,a young man comes in with his forms. Not being able to prevent myself from eaves dropping I listened in as the lady at the counter asked him several questions. He was 18. He was getting cash assistance. He was getting food assistance. He was living with his older brother and he was also getting assistance. He stumbled over one of the question so he went to the car and brought in his mom. She was also getting assistance and was driving a very nice suv.
Now maybe there was some reason he could not work. Maybe I was to quick to judge. But really.
I know jobs can be difficult to find right now, but they can be found.
My 19 year old joined the Marines to guarantee himself work. There are very few men in this country that would be turned down by any of the armed services.
My 21 year old son has 2 jobs. Has worked a good part of his young adult life and is currently supporting his girlfriend and their 2 children, along with his girlfriends mom, (we will not go into that). He had some legal problems as a teenager and young adult and spent a little time in jail. Nothing major just stupid mistakes. He has tattoos all over his body, and yet he is able to get 2 jobs and be a productive member of society.
Something just is not right and it really burns me up.
Just Another Day
This is one from a couple years ago that some of you may have already read elsewhere but I feel it is worthy of republishing here.
Being an avid outdoorsman it is no surprise that my three sons are fond of the outdoors and all the great activities it has to offer.
Fishing for bluegills and crappies is definitely one of their favorite outdoor sports, especially for my 12 year old Bryan. He has been fishing by my side since before he could hold a rod and reel and it is quite obvious that he paid very close attention to what was going on. At 12 years old I can count on him to help fill the freezer with fillets any time, and would bet on him any day to match a lot of tournament anglers catch for catch when it comes to panfish.
In the summer of 2006 , when he was just 9 years old, Bryans skills as a crappie fisherman would be put to the test. While picking up some snacks at a local store we noticed a flyer advertising a kids crappie tournament on Wixom Lake. It would be open to kids of all ages up to 16. Bryan was immediately interested so we signed him up . Being in the mid range of the age class I figured Bryan would do well but reminded him that no matter how he does it is all for fun and it would give us something to look forward to in the next couple weeks.
Well the following two weeks passed ever so slowly. Everyday was talk of nothing but crappie. Checking tackle. Checking line.
Looking over the lake map. Going over in his head where we had caught crappies on the lake in the past.
"What time are we going to get to the lake DAD ?"
"Hey Dad, what should I use for my first lure ?"
"What is the weather going to be like? Are they going to be deep or shallow? Fast or slow???????????????????"
When tournament day finally arrived Bryan had his plan all set. He would start casting his favorite jig and soft plastic combos under one of the bridges and around the rip rap. Since we do not have a boat he would have to fish from shore, which is usually just fine except this day would have the wind blowing from the west and making it difficult for him to cast and for the fish to stay close to the east shoreline that Bryan was fishing. After 2 hours of fishing with only 2 small crappies in his basket I asked Bryan if he wanted to try something different for the last few hours of the tournament to see if he might be able to get into some good slabs. He was more than willing to try anything.
Just down the road was a small bait shop that also rented boats, which I figured might be just what Bryan would need to get him into some serious fish. Man was he happy, and I was right. Shortly after we anchored in the first bay Bryan picked up a nice 10 inch crappie, but was not getting them as fast as he would like. Somewhere in the midst of his first 20 or 30 casts in the boat Bryan figured that it was to windy for his 1/32oz lure to make it to the bottom so he grabbed a 1/8 oz jig and rigged it with his favorite plastic minnow. His new rig no sooner hit the bottom and Bryan lifted his rod tip to set the hook on what would be the first of several nice slabs. A great 12 incher would top off his basket, leaving just enough time to make it to the marina for the 1:00 pm weigh in.
As we approached the boat ramp and weigh station Bryan noticed that there were about 18 kids waiting, with several of them in the teen ages. I once again reminded him that we had a great time and his 10 crappie were great for a nine year old. When we tied up to the dock one of the other kids hollered to the rest of the crowd, " Hey he has some nice ones!"
When Bryan lifted his basket to reveal his catch he received immediate congratulations from the other kids as well as the parents.
And then a barage of questions about where he caught them, what was he using, live bait or artificial, etc. Although he was only 9 at the time he was as tight lipped as the 30 year veteran when it came to giving up his secrets.
He asked me what all the fuss was about his fish as this was just another day of fishing for him. Well as it turned out he was the only kid to catch any crappie so he won the big fish and total weight competition.
Of course I was the big winner of the day when Bryan gave me a big hug and said thanks for taking me dad.
Being an avid outdoorsman it is no surprise that my three sons are fond of the outdoors and all the great activities it has to offer.
Fishing for bluegills and crappies is definitely one of their favorite outdoor sports, especially for my 12 year old Bryan. He has been fishing by my side since before he could hold a rod and reel and it is quite obvious that he paid very close attention to what was going on. At 12 years old I can count on him to help fill the freezer with fillets any time, and would bet on him any day to match a lot of tournament anglers catch for catch when it comes to panfish.
In the summer of 2006 , when he was just 9 years old, Bryans skills as a crappie fisherman would be put to the test. While picking up some snacks at a local store we noticed a flyer advertising a kids crappie tournament on Wixom Lake. It would be open to kids of all ages up to 16. Bryan was immediately interested so we signed him up . Being in the mid range of the age class I figured Bryan would do well but reminded him that no matter how he does it is all for fun and it would give us something to look forward to in the next couple weeks.
Well the following two weeks passed ever so slowly. Everyday was talk of nothing but crappie. Checking tackle. Checking line.
Looking over the lake map. Going over in his head where we had caught crappies on the lake in the past.
"What time are we going to get to the lake DAD ?"
"Hey Dad, what should I use for my first lure ?"
"What is the weather going to be like? Are they going to be deep or shallow? Fast or slow???????????????????"
When tournament day finally arrived Bryan had his plan all set. He would start casting his favorite jig and soft plastic combos under one of the bridges and around the rip rap. Since we do not have a boat he would have to fish from shore, which is usually just fine except this day would have the wind blowing from the west and making it difficult for him to cast and for the fish to stay close to the east shoreline that Bryan was fishing. After 2 hours of fishing with only 2 small crappies in his basket I asked Bryan if he wanted to try something different for the last few hours of the tournament to see if he might be able to get into some good slabs. He was more than willing to try anything.
Just down the road was a small bait shop that also rented boats, which I figured might be just what Bryan would need to get him into some serious fish. Man was he happy, and I was right. Shortly after we anchored in the first bay Bryan picked up a nice 10 inch crappie, but was not getting them as fast as he would like. Somewhere in the midst of his first 20 or 30 casts in the boat Bryan figured that it was to windy for his 1/32oz lure to make it to the bottom so he grabbed a 1/8 oz jig and rigged it with his favorite plastic minnow. His new rig no sooner hit the bottom and Bryan lifted his rod tip to set the hook on what would be the first of several nice slabs. A great 12 incher would top off his basket, leaving just enough time to make it to the marina for the 1:00 pm weigh in.
As we approached the boat ramp and weigh station Bryan noticed that there were about 18 kids waiting, with several of them in the teen ages. I once again reminded him that we had a great time and his 10 crappie were great for a nine year old. When we tied up to the dock one of the other kids hollered to the rest of the crowd, " Hey he has some nice ones!"
When Bryan lifted his basket to reveal his catch he received immediate congratulations from the other kids as well as the parents.
And then a barage of questions about where he caught them, what was he using, live bait or artificial, etc. Although he was only 9 at the time he was as tight lipped as the 30 year veteran when it came to giving up his secrets.
He asked me what all the fuss was about his fish as this was just another day of fishing for him. Well as it turned out he was the only kid to catch any crappie so he won the big fish and total weight competition.
Of course I was the big winner of the day when Bryan gave me a big hug and said thanks for taking me dad.
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