Fishing with the jeep junkie and the Kid

the jeep junkie called me, while I was, of course extremely busy, getting my What I Saw Today blog together, to tell me he and James were down fishing under the Granada Blvd. high bridge and getting soaked, in yet another rain storm, thankfully, here in the Birthplace of Speed. He was embellishing the conditions, but not quite as well as No Longer Skinny Jane and Simplistic Ellen, "raining like hell, soaked to the bone, Can you bring dry clothes? and a couple cold beers?" Well, bus, as important as you all are, I saved that draft and headed toward the bridge, not just with rain clothes, but with a couple cold beverages for the jeep junkie.

As I left the majestic condo I live in, I saw the US Flag down the street, nearly at full extension in the wind, preceding the expected rain.

Upon arrival I saw the jeep junkie had learned, from me, the Art of The Create a Parking Spot. I squeezed the 850* in behind that ole CJ.

Sorry this photo isn't the greatest, still learning the Polaroid, but as you might be able to make out, it is raining and that CJ has no windshield wipers.

Below, the Kid caught me with the rare pic of me with a fishing pole in my hands. Of course, the hook on this pole had been picked clean and this is a, shamelessly, staged pic. But notice, I have on the plastic pants, not as baby's wear, but as supposedly adults wear, ready to throw on that rain poncho, should the need arise.

Now I was there for about and hour and a half. It was fun being with the boys, but I was kind of bored. I mean, I guess fishing with your son is a good memory maker, but I prefer my fish on a plate. It is a whole lot less boring. My friend, Mike Carbone, the foam maker, doesn't agree, he loves to fish, but I really believe he likes hanging with the brothers Busch even more. Again, I digress.

While the jeep junkie, the Kid, and By The Numbers were enjoying scenery like this, we talked about a bunch of stuff.

That distant boathouse is the Ormand Beach Yacht Club.

Apparently, the local Catholic High School does not have a quarterback for their football team. the jeep junkie asked the Kid if he would want to return to that school as opposed to going to Beachside High next year. cloudnine said, "Dad, Bishop Veroe?? couldn't beat the Deaf and Blind school for the last four years, why would I return there for that?"

I must note, my "quotes" are not verbatim but pretty damn close, and certainly not used out of context.

Back to the pier.

As you can make out in these pics (sometimes picks, sorry), Ormond Beach has done a great job of making the most of what they have to offer. We are literally standing under the high bridge cars travel over and fishing near the posts and bases supporting this bridge. It is, actually, rather impressive.



This is pretty typical of the size of fish caught while I was present, but it is the experience after all.

Ah yes, fishing experiences. There are very few memories this old, unemployed construction worker has surrounding fishing. I think probably, other than this one, four.

My earliest is camping down at Coombs Ferry. You may remember a ride the jeep junkie and I had riding in the back of that 67 Country Squire. Once, while camping there, early one morning, I was standing on the shores of Table Rock Lake with an old school Zebco, even cloudnine knew what it was, and casting out trying to catch something, while Mom was preparing breakfast for all of us, outside that old tent trailer I mentioned earlier.

So here was this 9 year old boy standing on the shoreline with a cheap Zebco, but at least Dad could get us a fishing pole, casting, with longing, out into this cove. Fishing boats, now this is prior to bass boats, we are talking fishing boats, no sparkling paint jobs, no 200hp Black Max on the rear, these are old time, steer from the back, fishing boats, were leaving the launch ramp, with fisherman equipped to the hilt with a young Johnny Morris supplied, from the aisles of a Brown Derby on North Glenstone, a precursor to Bass Pro Shops, fishing tackle.

So anyway, as these fishing boats were going by, I got a bite. I was thrilled!! Of course, Dad told me I hooked a boot. I didn't care, it was coming in. So here I am reeling in this boot and, Low and Behold, it is an Honest to Goodness fish. Of course, neither the jeep junkie nor I could recall what the type of fish it was, "Trout, I dunno, Bass, I dunno". cloudnine mentioned that freshwater Bass aren't that great for eating. I told him that Seabass are eatable and he said, "Oh yeah". Anyway, my Dad filleted whatever I caught and we had it for breakfast that morning. I believe the only time I have ever had fish for breakfast.

In the meantime, the jeep junkie caught this massive 9" fish, cloudnine called it a mango snapper, about the time the bus called to relay an email Simplistic Ellen had sent. Ignorant and Unknowledgeable. But the bus was on his way to a birthday party. Have Fun.

the jeep junkie and By The Numbers then started talking about "fishing" for Flounder with my older sister, Carol's, future ex-husband Hamp. He took us out with his 12' jonboat in the Gulf of Mexico with a 12 volt battery and a 12v lamp on the end of a pole and a lifejacket on the end to hold that lamp on the surface. If you have never had a lamp illuminate the subsurface of water, invest in a cheap underwater flashlight. It is a sight to see. Anyway, Hamp would float this light over the surface of the Gulf of Mexico, illuminating the bottom of the Gulf. Hamp, when seeing the eyes of a flounder, would shout, in that Geneva, Alabama accent, "Git 'im" and we would. the jeep junkie noted that, no matter what the size of that flounder was, it was a struggle to pull that gig up.

Of course, this brought up gigging frogs on Haven Lee Farm. We talked about how the frog would be gigged and Dad would cut off the legs, and, as the jeep junkie commented, it tasted like chicken, about the size of wings. the jeep junkie did comment on how amazing it was that Mom knew how to cook all of the stuff Dad threw her way.

After we had reminisced about this, I mentioned my recollections about an experience I had with the jeep junkie's wife, and the Kid's mom, when the Lee Family had at a no longer Skinny Jane's family reunion down in Rockaway Beach. It seems Cheryl and I had taken all of our generations kids present, by our generation I mean the kids of the four little kids, down to the end of the dock at the "condo" we were staying at to try our hand at fishing. So here we were, Ed and Cheryl's kids--James and Taylor, about 7 and 3, Joan's kid, Hailey, and my daughter, Jessica, about 5. Now as I mentioned, I am a fish on the plate kind of guy, we brought no bait. All of the kids had hooks, but no bait. As we are standing on the end of that dock, in the middle of that "river"-lake, Hailey pops up with, "Hey I got one". I looked at Cheryl with alarm in my eyes. I mean I didn't bring a pair of pliers....a pair of gloves....not a damn thing to be prepared to deal with a fish thing....fortunately, Hailey caught a passing stick...Where was Bob, Sr. then? I am certain in a Good Place.

One of the Observations I have about fishing is How Much Time is Spent Looking at The End of The Fishing Pole. I mean, think about it. All you look at is the end of the pole to see if you have a nibble, and then run to snag it. I guess that is what this game is all about.

After about 30 minutes of absolutely no action on the fishing lines, the jeep junkie had reached his limits and was ready to "Head to the House". Of course, the Kid wanted to hang and see what happened after dark. Vetoed...

the jeep junkie and the Kid on their way to the house at Granada and Beach Drive in the Birthplace of Speed.

Thanks for having me along, and, froglegs on me.