Fishing Stories (or Delusions of Grandeur)

When you grow up in the Land of 10,000 Lakes, you are bound to have a run-in with fishing of one form or another, whether it's from a boat, a dock, or the bank of a waterway. Fishing is a way of life for many. Some do it for sport, some for relaxation, and some to put food on the table.

Fishing was hereditary on my father's side of the family. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, fished. We're talking multiple boats out on the lake to make sure everyone got their chance. 

Most summers we spent a couple of weeks up at a lake resort near Bemidji, MN, with various members of the extended family— usually my grandparents, and at least one of my uncles and family. It was one of the things that I looked forward to each summer. Everyone from grandpa down to my youngest bother was there on the lake, reel in-hand, floating bobbers, spinning spinners, jigging jigs, and just generally having a rollicking good time of it. Unless it was 4 am in the morning. That was the time that the true fishers went out on the lake. I did it once. I froze my butt off. And I caught nothing. Zero stars, would not recommend.

Of course, I rarely was able to catch a fish even at midday. And, when I did, it was a pathetic little bit of a thing that would get thrown back. The adults did catch their fair share, though, along with tales to tell of the ones that got away. While my family wasn't ever one to embellish their fish stories, others spoke of huge fish that existed in some of the lakes around the area, fish that people swear they missed by "that much". I did imagine myself catching one of the behemoths. Delusions of grandeur, as it were. But, that's all they were.

As I got older, my fishing skill did increase a bit. On a trip to Lake of the Woods in Canada one summer, I managed to haul in a couple of keepers. But, mostly, it was about sitting out on the lake, taking in nature, and mindlessly casting the rod. It's an amazingly relaxing activity that I do miss a fair bit.

Strip 65/166 - Never trust someone who talks about themselves in the third-person

Back to "delusions of grandeur", this week Furble's head grows a couple of sizes (metaphorically speaking, of course). Obviously a setup for trouble as the "Great Furble" sets off on an adventure to explore the planet (or at least a reasonable area within walking distance).

I was particularly proud of my illustration of the coiled snake Bitem. He turned out pretty good.

Strip 66/166 - Build a better mouse trap, and Furble will find it

Curiosity killed the cat. It's an old proverb, warning that just because something looks interesting, shiny, and new doesn't mean you should stick your finger in it. Or jump on it.

Strip 67/166 - Sarcastic FC is fun

Our big-headed hero has found himself in a bit of a sticky situation, and FC isn't above doing a bit of gloating about it. I always imagined FC as having more of a sarcastic side to his personality, even though it didn't always come out that way. They're friends, companions, but not above a bit of good-natured ribbing.

Strip 68/166 - The scientific method(ish)

It seemed like a good idea. It worked for the teapot. But obviously, there's something more going on with this strange contraption that has stymied the intrepid explorer. It's going to take a bit more ingenuity to get out of this situation.

Time to start fishing for some more solutions! (I'm here all week! Try the veal!)