Friday, September 21, 2012

The Weekend 10: Quotable Season

On this, the first weekend of fall, I thought I'd take a look back on the expiring fishing season and relive a few (10 to be exact) quotable moments that make hanging out and fishing with good friends all the more worthwhile. First, a disclaimer: I'm recalling these moments from memory, and that memory, in many instances, is laced with a touch of the hooch, so I can't vouch for their exact accuracy, but they'll be pretty damned close.

If there's a theme to the season,
this is it.
What? Don't roll your eyes. I haven't worked for a newspaper for almost eight years--gimme a break. You want exact accuracy, read the New York Times. Here, poetic license is the name of the game. 

Second, there's a chance this post will embarrass a few folks ... so please share it at will.

Finally, at the advice of one of my more tech-savvy friends, I've ditched references to last names to avoid the Google curse should one of the miscreants below ever want to find gainful employment (doubtful, but we put a man on the moon...). Say what you will about me, but at least I'm considerate. Most of the time. And by the way, this is a guest post by "Anonymous."

Enjoy.

She's a keeper, Zach. 
10) "We're losing daylight... we need to start throwin' shit." Those immortal words left the angelic lips of one well-known Flyfishilicious blogger (now she's hitched and has added a third name to the end of her monikier--Zach, a word of advice... don't be late. Ever.) as I arrived just a tad bit behind schedule along with my friend and fellow blogger Mike and my good buddy Todd for a couple of days of fly fishing the upper Laguna Madre. As I said, I can't vouch for the exact veracity of the quote, but I bet Mike would say that I'm "close enough." 

Mike and Brandon. No utensils.
9) "What the hell do you need utensils for? That's a Texas dinner plate right there." Same trip, different character. Here's the deal... Brandon helped put together one of the most memorable fishing trips I can recall (and, ahem, I've been on a few, if I'm, uh, not being too subtle) when he conspired with the likes to Thomas, the afore-mentioned potty mouth, Austin and a great guy who deserves way more credit than he got from any of us, Mike G.). Brandon was largely in charge of the logistics of the event, and that included food, beverages and the Weber kettle. As we waited politely in line, buffet-style, to scoop up some delicious grub from the grill, I looked at my empty plate and asked out loud, "So, uh, are there any utensils?" What I failed to realize was that on my empty plate was actually an empty tortilla--it was almost dark, and I was busy rediscovering Lone Star beer. I just missed it. Keep in mind that this question was directed at me not an hour after Brandon addressed me as "Mr. (Anonymous)." Geh. The good news is that I count Brandon, and every single one of the folks on that trip as friends, and--highest praise--I'd fish with any one of them again in a New York Minute (and take my Texas time doin' it). 

Kirk, clearly wearing quick-dry boxers.
8) "Listen, you, uh, may want to get yourself a few pairs of quick-dry underpants. You'll be way more fun to hang out with at the lodge at the end of the day." I'm not sure if Kirk was just being polite or if he was referencing a past event unbeknownst to me (we've fished together a few times, and I suppose it's possible that I've wandered into a lodge wearing a pair of sweaty drawers and gassed the place, but God, I hope that's not the case) or if he was just offering up some newby advice for a first-time bonefisher who would be wading wet on the flats of The Bahamas. Either way, I ran right out and bought six pairs of synthetic boxers, and, honestly, I've never been happier with an underwear purchase. And I think Kirk was happy, too, seeing as how he was my roommate on the big adventure.

Todd... blown over.
7) "We left a perfectly good hotel room stocked with rum and beer and the balcony view of the pool for this? They even had a never-ending supply of bacon in the breakfast buffet." My buddy Todd is nothing if not frank. It's perhaps his greatest asset, and what's made him a fantastic conservationist over the years as a volunteer for the Southeast Idaho Fly Fishers Chapter of Trout Unlimited. But on this particular day, as we stood on the sand spit they call South Padre Island between the wind-blown Gulf of Mexico and the wind-blown Laguna Madre, Todd's honesty was felt by the lot of us. It wasn't just blowing. It was howling. But... we'd come all this way to fish, so we did. Mike and I fished with forced smiles. Todd fished, but I don't think his heart was in it, and believe me, I've had days like that, too. He was right. It was an endless supply of bacon. Mmmm... bacon. 

6) "If all I get out of this is an invitation to answer 20 Questions, it'll be totally worth it." Now, for clarity, I didn't hear this myself. It was relayed to me. These words belong to Brandon and were supposedly uttered to Jen. Jen told me of Brandon's lofty aspirations, but not until after I'd decided to pop the question to Brandon first. Brandon did, indeed, answer 20 Questions, and I'm glad he did. What's more, for what it's worth, he earned the right when he stopped calling me "Mr. (Anonymous)" and started calling me by my real name, "Dirty Cowboy."

The "old" Mr. Anonymous.
5) "I see you finally changed your avatar. Now you don't look quite so old." Words can be hurtful, you know? Last fall, I fished the "River X" (*cough* Owyhee *cough*) with Rebecca and Emily, and when the three of us met up at a McDonalds on the edge of Boise, I was told that I don't look as old as I do in my online avatar--seems Emily told Rebecca something like, "I thought he was an old man, and we'd have to hold his hands just to get him to the water," or something like that. So, as soon as I got back to an Internet signal I ditched the old man photo and replaced it. Pronto. Rebecca, when we fished this summer on the Yellowstone Blogger Tour, made sure to remind me that my new avatar makes me look more my age. It's all about image, see?

4) "I think I'll have 'The Man.'" It's not nearly as funny as it sounds, but picture five guys and one gal sitting around a breakfast table at a diner in Big Sky, Mont. Then, Marc looks up from his menu and utters the above-mentioned words. Turns out, "The Man" was a menu item. It had lots of bacon in it. I had it, too. I loved The Man. I'd have The Man again. The Man filled me up all day. You got a problem with that?

Too late to say "I'm sorry?"
3) "Who the hell's that guy?" I'm not one to assign unflattering quotes to myself, but this one was just too good to simply pass over. While on the Yellowstone Blogger Tour this past summer, we had a bit of down time, and we spent it in a spacious suite at Big Sky Resort watching the opening ceremonies of the London Olympics. It's possible that we might also have had a bit to drink that evening, so when I pointed at the big-screen TV and asked that question, it turns out the answer, muttered snidely by Bruce, was, "That's the fuckin' Queen of England, genius." Awkward. 

2) "We like to eat lunch down at the Y." So, maybe I'm a bit naive, but it turns out, that back in the early 1980s, David Allen Coe released an album of x-rated songs (find the link yourselves, people--I refuse to enable your deliquency, but I suspect if you Google it...). It also turns out that Marc has these songs (or did, until his wife read this post) bookmarked on YouTube. And this line is the cleanest line of a song I walked in on Marc and Kirk singing, verbatim and in tune, in the dining room of the palacial Big Sky suite when they should have been studiously reviewing the Yellowstone National Park Native Trout Conservation Plan. Kids. 

1) Countin' on you to do your own drumroll here ... "There's a liquor store here? Thank God. I need some scotch. I'm fuckin' dying." Who knew that taking a high-ranking employee from a major computer firm out of the blue-blooded countryside of Connecticut and propping him down in the wilds of Montana and Wyoming would drive a man to utter such a phrase? Steve is said fellow. And, it should be noted, I believe he simply ordered the breakfast burrito. With Glenlivet. 

Until next week,

-Anonymous



19 comments:

  1. Still laughing at #1. Quote of the trip by far. Good stuff as always buddy.

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    1. And thus began one of the funnier days in recent memory. I'm still hurting from that one.

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  2. Thanks dude... we need to arrange another trip. Too much fishing with good folks...

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    1. That should read "never" too much fishing... der.

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  3. #4 made me laugh at loud at my cubicle, you cant do that to me I am supposed to be working!!

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  4. Man, you think YOUR memory is suspect at times? Shit, I don't even remember fishing with you in the Bahamas, let alone telling you to get some synthetic skivvies. Hope we had fun. Did I snore?

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  5. Damn funny Chris, but scary too. You mean we can't speak freely around you? This is Amerika isn't it?

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    1. Jeez, Howard... I eliminated their last names... what more do you want? Should I have changed their genders, too? As in, "that Mike is a sexy bitch?"

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  6. Love 'em all, buddy. If they actually didn't say those things, they should have. Close enough is always good enough for me.

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    1. Exactly... what's six inches from the bank and a foot from the bank. If the fish wants it, the fish'll eat it. I might have to do an addendum... just for the Italian food cooked by Iranian chef and served by white girl on the Mexican border... while a guy played the tenor sax... You can't make that shit up.

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  7. Fantanstic post! These are hilarious. I went to high school in the 70's and college in the early 80's Ahem, number #2 is correct. Love the blog.
    Trout Buddha
    www.zentrout.com

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    1. Thanks for that... very much appreciated! Glad you stopped by.

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  8. In the interest of accuracy, it was a twelve year old Macallan. Glenlivet is not a breakfast scotch.

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    1. Uh... what part of "poetic license" do you kot understand? ;)

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    2. I lost my poetic license for WUI.

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