Tuesday, August 16, 2011

The Catch

Of the catch
Of the feast
Of the tools
Of the intent

For the fish

Ken Goree

I am getting ready for salmon fishing with my good friend, Steve Davidson.   We should be on the water in a couple of hours from now. 

We will be fishing near the mouth of the Columbia River; a place I have fished since I was a child.  I have memories of waking in the dark of night, so we could meet up at 3:00 for breakfast with my Uncle Bob, and Cousin Jeff.  We would arrive at 3:00, as planned, knowing that it would be another hour before my cousin and uncle arrived.  They were always late, without exception.  We would always arrive on time, without exception.  I asked my dad why we didn’t just get that extra hour of sleep and he would always say, “We are men of our word, Ken.  We are going to keep it that way.”  My dad is a pretty damn good guy.    Then he would sometimes point out, “Just think how exciting it would be if they actually made it here on time, once.  Would you want to miss that?  It is probably less likely to happen than aliens arriving in our lifetimes.”

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