You Stole My Fish Sandwich, Part 3

The Trego Turn

When we made 'The Trego Turn’, the party started. We called them ‘fishing’ trips.

These trips provided an opportunity to blow off some steam as our personal and professional lives were starting, but continued to diverge. As for your humble orator, these trips were more about how many cheap beers yours truly could consume, while trying to solve the mystery of how many one dollar bills were missing from my wallet each morning. But as they became a regularly scheduled event, their meaning meant more to me as my process of unloading some unwanted baggage evolved and how these excursions became the medicine that exercised that horrible disease from my soul.

With all things in life, we were getting older…albeit represented only by a number. A location change was in order and mid-way through our odyssey, we lost that turn. But with all great friendships, something started to evolve and our trips matured into unbelievable fishing, memorable meals, great homemade beer and great conversation about how it was, how it is, and how it could be.

Now, I am sadden beyond belief that they will not be able to continue, but I am more than happy we had that first trip. The other 15 (or so) were a bonus and those memories are what will keep me going now and in years to come.

So, my next trip will be alone as I return to the solitude of the Brule and Namekagon with my trusty fly rod. And because after 29 years I still have not learned my lesson (see Part 1), another step in my therapy will involve an illegal act with a malted beverage….

…as I make that Trego Turn.

You Stole My Fish Sandwich, Part 2

I had a dream last night that brought back memories of a conversation held close to 30 years ago:

Think Pink

Me: Do we have everything?
You: Yes.
Me: Both cans?
You: No, we have only one.
Me: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?
You: Chill out. Nobody is going to find it.
Me: I SAID TO LEAVE NOTHING BEHIND!!!!
You: Nobody is going to find it. Chill out.
Me: IF THEY FIND THAT CAN, I AM THE ONE GOING TO JAIL!!!!
You: Chill out.

Well, they found that can and I spent the next few days staring out the front window waiting for Johnny Law, but he never came.

So, I think I am going to spend today looking out my front window....

You Stole My Fish Sandwich, Part 1

My therapy sessions are coming in the form of the written word. And right now, I need a lot visits to that couch…

My blogging will be rambling of non-chronological and sometimes nonsensical topics, ending by describing a heinous act of 'tortious interference', with no attempt by the ‘torfeasor’, the subjects of these posts, to ever provide any equitable damages. So...

Journey, Alpine Valley, June 17^th 1983: Good bye high school and come August, we are all going in our separate ways. But for now, the only task at hand was a good-old-fashioned road trip with the Ziggy Family Grand Safari stocked with the ‘consumables’ (use your imagination) and a grill in Fryman’s Nova.

Now mind you, back in our day, some of the things that we did were NOT exactly smart. Nor it is my intention to expose stupidity, dangerous and/or illegal activities, but I had rules about drinking in a moving car (I have no intention of telling you want they were). Unfortunately, someone decided that they needed to violate that rule at the most inopportune moment possible, causing the WalwortCounty Sheriff to take an keen interest in my moving vehicle.

As far as I was concerned, the person that put us in the clutches of the law should have been hauled off and never heard from again so we could continue our road trip. But as your humble orator was about to escape the long arm of the law, a fully packed 72 quart red Igloo cooler full of provisions apparently caught their eye. And according to the Wisconsin State Statues in 1983, it is against the law to have one of my chauffeured acquaintances decide that they need a quick drink from a new bottle of vodka as it was being packed. Great…I just saw my graduation money disappear.

Now through all of this foolishness of being hassled by ‘The Man’, we lost contact with the fire source.  Remember this is well before any technology that has the potential of finding the Fryman anywhere on this earth and  apparently yelling from the rooftop of your car in the parking lot of a very large outdoor concert venue gets you a lot of strange looks. But this is a great opportunity for budding engineer and this where his ingenuity reins well, because apparently you can cook food on the exhaust system of a the 'ZiggyMobile' (well, not really…but it was a great idea).

Not being discouraged  by an inpending empty wallet and a date that was colder than zero degrees on the Kelvin scale, our 4^th row, dead center seats provided a memorable event for all. Although today as a middle-aged adult, I will never verbally broadcast that I actually attended a Journey concert.

Why I am telling you this story? I had 15 days to make my donation to the General Account of Walworth County and I am $60 dollars short. This is where our future torfeasor steps forward to help yours truly. There was never a question for when it would be returned, but merely a gesture of a true friend, to a friend in need.

This was the first gesture on many that I will never, cannot ever, will not ever, forget of my dear friend.

There is alot more to follow......