Now its story time.

Growing up, My dad would take us rugrats to the pier. We would "borrow" poles from him. Bait. Hooks. Sinkers, you know.....gear. And when I mean gear I dont mean for fresh water, this is the heavier salt water stuff. As I was saying *ahem* he would rig our lines, tie the knots to hold things together and bait the hooks. I remember watching with such interest, trying to learn what he showed us. He did let us cast the lines ourselves, or gave help when needed. Mainly My sister needed the help, me and John were quite adept at flinging dead worms around. So bait in the water, lines set....we waited, or fiddled with the poles jigging them out of kiddie boredom, and sometimes a small "bite" was felt. Oooo, excitement.....what do I do.....dad, help Me...

Well He would bring the fish in sometimes.....dehook them, show us so we could touch the slimey scales....and even clean them for us. Fluke, flounder, a sea robin or two...and the occasional seaweed fish. Green and wet fresh from the water. Then it happened less often. Till we never went fishing anymore. I was 13 or 14.

This past fathers day, He took the family fishing. I worked. I am now 28 years old, and I havent been fishing with My dad in over 14 years. I had forgotten the excitement, and sport of catching fishies. Although I am a certified scuba diver, I thought watching fish was more exciting then catching them. The truth is, they both are fun in thier own ways. So I bought new gear, tackle, and set out on My own. For the first time without My dad or anyone to watch Me. Up until last night I havent caught a thing.

New gear. I tied all the lines. Caught My bait. Casted My bait. First cast...First bait of the night..*WHIIIIZZZZZZZZ* Stripers are fighters, fast and strong. He was no exception, I was so nervous getting him down the bridge...it took a while to just get him close enough to the bridge to see him. I made it to the rocks, the last place I lost the other one, and managed to slip My fingers in where I could lift him up. Definately a keeper. And I was sooooooo happy. Goosebumps, lighthearted. I felt good. I did something for Myself. Something I hadnt before. And a little thing like catching a monster, unlike a flounder...was a big deal. Time, money, and patience paid off. And My reward was more than a fish, a damn fine one at that, but a small victory. One I needed to win. So few things come My way where I can win. So this meant alot. I tried for more the rest of the night, but it wasnt to be. But I still drove home at sunrise, radio off, windows down, and smiling to Myself.