Gone Fishin'

            If humans are the only  intelligent beings why are we (Stan and I) standing in 6 inches of streaming Farm River to catch a fish big enough to feed us? Ain't gonna happen! Don't even really know if there's any sign of worm left on my hook, and I think Stan's snagged on another rock (not the hook - Stan's snagged!). I traipse through the rapids in my rubber feet and help him up.

            Our resolve to catch a fish is long gone. Somehow we've trekked too far up river - Deliverance territory - and for some reason the water is creeping into my shorts. I scurry over the billions of treacherous stones at the river bed to grab Stan, who's becoming too entranced by the current, and pull us both to shore. There was no worm on his pole either.

            But we're lovin' it! Seems like all the insects have disappeared - Disney-style - which is REALLY ODD, as we're knee deep in river and forest. I remark to Stan that maybe nothing's alive out here - fish, bugs, water rodents - and that we have entered some weird alternate scene (definitely! but I can't write about THAT here!). And like little kids without regard for all the things that can go wrong in nature we fly into the woods toward a clearing and sit with our backs against an amazing old Maple that's had its bark sheared by lightning. It feels weird being 44 years old and in the woods, and not being terrified of 1) germs and bugs, 2) Poison Ivy, 3) Poison Tree Frogs, 4) Natives with Blow-Curare-Arrows, 5) that some passerby will view this as a Brokeback Mountain moment!

            Yet it all works. Kids don't care - they run into the forest with abandon. They don't have time to worry about insects or tree frogs. ABANDON! And somehow Stan and I have found the "Lack of Nerves" to jump in headfirst. I'm sure while we sat every microscopic insect in that forest heard the dinner bell and scurried toward the tree. But who cares! Society has become so antiseptic and germophobic that we won't even THINK ABOUT living in nature for a moment. Heck, we won't even kiss our girl without hesitation, knowing that spit is the perfect medium for everything nasty!

            Back to fishing. Lots of worms sacrificed their lives for this day. Being an intelligent animal I leave Stan at the tree and bait a final hook. Since the water's grown deeper I set the Bobber high and cast out, deftly tugging the pole the replicate a darting baitfish, which just SCREAMS out to the Trout or Bass or Frogs or Driftwood that something delectable has entered their environment...

            "Hi, I'm Peter Trout. My friends and I (fresh from school?!) have been watching these idiots fumble around in the water for about an hour now - Yeah, jerks, splashing about might attract sharks - but do you see any shark in this river! We just sit and wait for the pathetic half-worm to break off their hooks and we feast on that. The fat one tried a silver thing with hooks, thinking we're Billy Goats, chomping on beer can tabs or something.

            "But as fish are the only intelligent beings I can tell you that they're going hungry tonight. Well, we've been watching them ingest bags of potato chips and pretzels all day. But they're definitely not tasting fish! Can you imagine the stupidity of dropping an emaciated worm into the water, trying to make it twitch and flutter, silver spinning, silver spinning, looks like MY dinner is trying to escape. Oh no you won't - I'm coming for you. Jerk all you want, I've gotcha..."

            "Got him!" Stan shrieked. "Oh, he's a nice one too." Stan yanked his line out of the water. And in a horrific moment the fish jumped with perilous abandon and freed itself from Stan's naked hook, splashed down into the rapids and sped away. Stan laughed, "I swear that thing eyeballed me before he left!"

            Most intelligent being.