Undaunted

Emma was born in 1892, and in 1980 I lived in her basement and she gave me a 1940 seafood cookbook pamphlet, me being a Midwesterner living on the east coast where fish was the cheapest food, and I have treasured the cookbook, especially the Fish Roll recipe I made several times to feed hungry me and drug-addled friends, all so mentally ill we stayed out 'til 4 a.m. listening to bands like The Young Snakes and Rubber Rodeo singing songs like "Life Sucks, Then You Die," and vomiting, etc. Emma didn't like when police came to the house looking for "Eric" or whoever. . . "Unexpected guests will not daunt a hostess who knows how to make a fish roll," said the cutline beneath the illustration -- and in honor of those days we used to sleep ("crash") on bare hardwood floors, today having on hand 1.5 cups of  leftover cooked fish and an onion and some parsley in place of green pepper, I got out the cookbook (pictured) and made the frugal fish roll (result, pictured).

I used one of those baggies of Bisquick baking mix. The recipe was supposed to serve 6. In 2019 it serves 3. Great way to make leftover fish appealing.

A daunted hostess? Me, never. In grad school out east, fellow grad students, easterners and Midwesterners, all of us extremely thin, dropped by my place to chat and after a while might venture, "Uh, you wouldn't have, like, anything to eat around here, would you?" Food has always been my second-highest priority, after rent.

Taking My Self to Lunch

I only wanted to get the heck out of the clinic for bone scans and blood draws and after fleeing what I call the "Casino" (where you bet your life) I wanted to live it up, so I stopped at a Cracker Barrel on the way home and bought myself a double order of trout plus fixin's and coffee. I sat across from myself and said, "You've really accomplished a lot this past year. You took some chances and I am proud of you. You helped people out. You saw your family and friends often. You passionately loved. You've taken blows and punches to the gut quite gracefully, or if it was proper to fight, you fought. The mistakes were okay. It's all good. How lucky you are to be healthy and not dead yet like some folks. The best is yet to come. Shucks, I even like you a lot, and other people do too. You know, if I was you I'd be pretty happy."

I recommend that you take your Self to lunch soon. Or to a candlelight dinner. Tell yourself how good-looking you are and how much you love your Self. (Don't hesitate: It's the only Self you've got.) There's only one catch: Your Self has to pay the check.

Gorgeous Trout

South of St. James, MO, Maramec (sic) Springs Park is a trout hatchery as well as the home of the most beautiful blue spring I ever saw, emitting 94 million gallons of water a day, and a home to thousands upon thousands of happy rainbow trout, so many you could pert'near walk across their backs to the other side of the water. I was enchanted and will go back. One can fish for trout there a bit farther downstream. Cost you $4/car to get in. Most worthwhile central-Missouri $4 I ever spent. I been hangin around Crawford and Pulaski counties in search of really exciting fishing sites. Didn't have my fly rod along, but I'll be flyin back here with my rod and trout stamp pretty soon. That's a leaf floatin' on top of the water at right (it's gettin on in August, some leaves already detaching).

What's Biting Today?

I fished today. At the local Shell I asked where I could buy bait. “You’re in the right place,” said the clerk, and sold me 2 dozen night crawlers $2.99/dozen. “I hope you catch a load,” she said, “and I don’t mean coal.”

So I get to the Big River (that's its name), dazzled & stupefied with the joy of first-fishing-of-the-year. About 60% of the time spent untangling, retying, cussing, getting hook out of bushes, etc. Thunder in the distance. An angler across the river caught a catfish. I want one. I won’t leave. Finally, God lets my old folding chair’s nylon seat rip in half, suddenly dumping my ass full-force on wet sand. I only hoped nobody saw this, because I bet it looked hilarious. Took this as a divine signal to go home.

Man Kisses Bass

Out fishin' on a spit of land stuck into a lake in St. Charles County, and catching nothing, I saw a single fisherman, a stranger, in a johnboat coming toward us. He drew up and asked in his nice rusty-sounding Missourah accent, would I take a picture of him and the bass he'd just caught. He had a disposable camera...

He was an old, thin man wearing a shirt printed with colorful fishing flies. Could have been my dad, if dad had lived and got skinny; or, your dad, left alone on his own; sometimes strangers are angels in disguise. I said yes, of course, and pulled his bow up onto the gravel a bit, and grabbed the camera offen him. And from the water he ups a beautiful, heavy, live largemouth bass about half as long as I am tall. And he wanted me to take a photo of him kissing it.

So he kissed it and I did. He wanted to talk; he was lonely. I recognize that right away in a person, and tolerate it as long as I can. He offered us the fish to take home. I said no. He said, well, you put it back in the water, then, and handed it over. Now I had never before held such a big fish. I could look right down the fish's throat and see all the way into it -- its needly white bones and ribs. I held it by its tough wet lip. The poor thing flapped -- the air was burning it. Awestruck I hesitated and the man said, bringing me around, "Turn 'im back into the water." So I did. Off it went, with an amazing story to tell to its friends and family. Off went somebody's lonely dad. And I had felt the real weight of real life.

I Learn to Fish

Got the urge to buy the $12 Missouri license and go fishin'. Came on suddenly. Haven't fished for years and was never very knowledgeable about it.

Yesterday David took me fishin and I brought my two rods: a bamboo fishing pole and a beautiful lightweight fly rod with an open reel. I was tryin with the fly rod, but he said neither of my rods was right for the pond fishin we were doin. Esp. if were were going to catch the bass that was teasin us by jumpin up and down in the reeds.

So David and I went right down and he bought us a both rod & reel, plus tackle and fattest night crawlers in Jefferson County. Went back to the pond. He showed me how to use the reel, which kind of split shot to use as weight, how to cast the line overhand, what knots he uses, how the floater is attached, how to reel it in. On his first cast he caught a bass perhaps 1.5 - 2 lbs. It was a keeper but he used the pliers to pull the hook from its throat, and let it go.

They say you learn something new every day. Well now I'm thrilled to report I know something about fishin'. From newbie to novice in one day. This means anyone can do it. Get you a Missouri fishing license and have fun.