No Fly Fishing on the First Date

Finding a fly fishing partner has eluded me. Since moving to Oregon, I've had a couple of short term relationships with fly fishers, but so far none as gone the distance. It's complicated, but either they no longer share my passion for the sport, or have moved away, or aren't available. I once tried placing an add on an online community bulletin board, but that only resulted in a woman who was looking for more than a fishing buddy. Truth be told, she lined up under the banner of "I always wanted to try fly fishing." Not interested.

I need a clone. Someone near my age and ability who enjoys getting into a float tube and onto a lake, or perhaps walking the banks of a small stream or friendly river. But the risks are great. I have fears too. I'm afraid of finding someone who isn't all that easy to be around, or who has bad habits, or plays food and alcohol fast and loose. Someone who talks too much, or is a slob, or isn't punctual or is essentially too needy.
I'm not perfect. Hardly, but I'm at the age when I refuse to lower my expectations for a partner who would accompany me in this sacred endeavor. I'm conscious of time and health and this is serious.
Sure my tongue is firmly in my cheek as I write this but these are real considerations nonetheless. It's somehow a whole lot easier to go alone and avoid unnecessary drama or time with someone I don't respect. It's a lot like dating. It can get lonely too. So I'm looking and trying to put myself out there again as summer nears. As I said to my neighbor, an older woman enjoying the independence that retirement brings, "No fly fishing on the first date." It's like that, you know.

Comments

To a Tee

I'm a sucker for a good t-shirt. They are the foundational garment of my life. My day starts with selecting a t-shirt and it ends with sleeping in one. Once thought of as under garments, t-shirts are now original art and no doubt, a billion dollar business. You can get a t-shirt with anybody's picture displayed. You can commemorate an event, a birthday, a death, even a specular play in any sport. Family reunions usually have a commemorative t-shirt. Also, any organization that solicits your support in the form of a donation is likely to offer you a t-shirt. Where once I only had the basic white t-shirt, my drawers are filled with all manner of colorful choices. Some recognize major events in my life, some, spectacular performances or plays I have witnessed, and some unforgettable places I have been. I say I'm a sucker for a good t-shirt because I have taken the bait on what I perceived as a must-have only to be disappointed. ...

Illusory

What does it take to enrage you? That moment when your words fly on pure emotion because enough is enough. Is it a driver that cuts you off at high speed? What about being an eyewitness to blatant racism or on the receiving end of some obvious injustice? I know some people who never express rage. I admire them but know full well I am not capable of such distance from that which would bring about such a strong response. Another senseless shooting and 7 people die at the hands of a mentally ill gun owner. The father of the 20 year old college student lets it fly and somehow millions feel a new sense of relief. He calls the politicians bastards who do nothing, he wears his pain in public. The news media responds but we all know that nothing is going to change. We are the gun country. We are the place where anybody, anytime, can be cut down just for being there when somebody else snaps. Usually the perpetrators are delusional. ...

Mr. Greene v. Mr. Brown

I want to tell you about something. Something I've carried inside myself for a number of years now. Perhaps if I were a different kind of person I wouldn't need to talk about it. I'm not. My need to tell it is stronger than your need to hear it. Because, however, there are a number of teachers and former students of mine who may read these meanderings from time to time, I need to tell this story all the more. About 7 or 8 years ago I was asked if I would allow a university PhD. candidate to observe an English class. At first I decided against it because I was scheduled to have a student teacher placed with me the second half of the semester in question. After some urging, however, at the request of a respected colleague, I agreed. Soon I was committing to extra meetings, signing documents and explaining to the class in question who the young woman who thoughtfully pounded away on a laptop in the rear of the classroom three times a week was. I knew that the topic of ...

Daily Blues & Views

Search This Blog