Fish Tales and Beer
If you haven’t read my previous 2 articles titled the same you can get them online at www.rockypointtimes.com. It is going to get better, so hang in there. I haven’t even got to the beer yet.
I am going to quote a well-known author by the name of Patrick McManus in this chapter. He has written some very funny books and one of his books gave the definition of a “fast mean cow and a slow mean cow “. Do you know the difference? A fast mean cow will stand in the pasture with a bunch of others and look like it is not paying attention. Then when you enter his pasture he will wait until you get a long way from any fence and take off after you to do bodily harm to you. A slow mean cow will just meander off and do it’s cow pie thing in your way so you step in it.
My dad would let me off about a mile up the creek to fish and I would fish down the stream to where he was. One time I spotted a bunch of cows in the pasture where the good fishing was and I wondered if they were fast or slow cows. They all looked slow to me and I could always wash my feet off in the creek. I started across the pasture and almost made it to the creek. That sneaky fast one was in the middle of the pasture and was watching me. Just waiting, probably sneering and whatever cows do. All of a sudden it broke out in a run for me and away I went. I got down to where my dad was and all he could say is “didn’t you fish “? Where is your pole? I told him it was back in the pasture and would he please go get it for me. Then I told him about the big bull that chased me and I knew the bull was waiting for me to come back for my pole. At 125 lbs, Dad said “what makes you sure he won’t get me“? And are you sure it was a bull? Well, I didn’t get down there to check his equipment cause “he” was coming so fast. All my dad found was “slow mean cows” and he retrieved my pole.
On the way back to town he asked if I wanted to stop at a local pub and have a drink. By now I was ready for a bunch. I ordered a “Hamm’s, From The Sky Blue Water “and he got a shot of whiskey. He downed his and said, “let’s go”. What? I haven’t even had a swallow yet. I’m done he says so let’s go. He is my dad so away we go. After he braved the slow mean cow and got my pole, I guess I owed him.
All this is true. He passed away on my sister’s birthday exactly six months after she did in 1979. I miss them both, and I wish they could see what I see from my deck in Puerto Peñasco. No mean cows what so ever. This was hard for me to write so I guess I’ll take a break. Then I might tell you about the “Hang On Pappa, You Got A Sea lion”. Thanks for reading my articles, hope you enjoyed them…Rob