Saturday, July 14, 2012

Who Are You Calling a Geezer?

I went fly fishing recently with my brother for 10 days…that was pretty awesome. My brother being much older than me, I suppose should be considered a geezer. I have concluded that there is no way I am a geezer. I don’t even qualify for old people discounts at the state and national parks. That simple fact should be solid proof I have yet to be inducted into the fly fishing geezer club.

One author said if you fall asleep in the middle of a sentence maybe you are a geezer. That makes me wonder if the same logic applies to writing a blog post. I have fallen asleep on more than one occasion in the midst of trying to write a blog post. That has never really bothered me that much, the falling asleep thing. But, the dried drool on my key board really bugs me.  I did a Google search – ‘how to unstick a keyboard  - Google was totally useless on that front but I did find a peculiar group of people out there in Google land that gave me the hibbie-gibbies. It seems there are weirdoes out there that keep dried drool just for the smelling. Who would admit to such a thing? If I had that problem I would keep it a deep deep secret. Many of these drool smellers have a favorite drool spot on their pillow that is nearly sacred. If one was to wash their pillow case the compulsive drool smellers would nearly flip their doodle. What is wrong with those people?  Secret drooler smellers???? Creeeeepy!

The human condition for sure is complicated and there is no shortage of weird things people do. There was a bright side in reading about these drool smellers. I realized that of all my oddities, I can proudly say drool smelling is not one of them. I am bothered some that I have been enjoying the lingering smell of sage brush on the pillow I took fishing. BTW-don't even think about washing that pillow. 

Besides my brother, I spotted more than one geezer on my fishing trip. Geezer number one we deducted was a really really really really rich geezer. At dinner one night we spotted this old fellow.  Once he was ushered/helped to his table and a drink was placed in front of him he didn’t move much except for that frail hand that kept stroking the back of the tall 30 something beauty sitting next to him. She was by far the prettiest female in the establishment and the geezer had his brand clearly on her. I tried not to stare but my self control was useless. She finally caught me staring and the smile she sent my way seemed to say, maybe being rich should have been more important to you.

Geezer number two we found sitting on the river bank muttering to himself after his third unsuccessful attempt to tie a 7X tippet to his fly line. His muttering had something to do with not being able to see or feel the thin line. Oh….wait a minute….that geezer was me.  

Geezer number three was of course my brother he seemed to still be able to tie the 7X tippets. He claimed to out fish me everyday - except for that one day. After all he had no pictures so that pretty much settles it. Big talk without pictures is nothing but self deception.

So, from one who is almost a geezer – may your fly always hit the water softly even when you can't see it.