Angel in the Night

Angel in the Night: 

My college friend Dean and I were in downtown New Brunswick, New Jersey. The year was 1980 just before the huge downtown restoration project was going to take place. We were both in school at Rutgers and wrestling for the team. We would sometimes hop on a bus and get dropped off in the downtown George Street area, or we would drive down in his green Comet,looking for good food. A place called “Stuff Yer Face” was there and Tomaltys’ pub and a few good ‘hole in the wall’ pizza places. 

It was a mild fall night so Dean and I were sitting outside at a table sharing a huge pizza. We would often pig out, when we did not have an upcoming match. I loved to eat a good east coast style pizza and converse. 

We were enjoying our meal when we noticed a homeless man limping his way up the sidewalk slowly. He was dragging a stuffed dirty pillow case in which, I assume he was carrying everything he owned. I noticed he had a spasm in his jaw/mouth that bothered me. He also smelled of urine and body odor. So the odor and the spasm were enough to set me back and to pull away. 

Dean kept urging me to talk to this man and in fact he wanted me to offer him some pizza. I kept saying no; that I just did not want to. And I knew the scriptures; I knew the arguments. I knew I was saying no to a lot more than a homeless man. 

Dean was bolder than I was when it came to talking to strangers  And in sharing his faith. In fact, Dean was on his feet already, ready to greet this man. Dean would soon be in seminary so he was quite serious about his faith. I was a bit timid, far too self centered but that is no excuse for not feeding the hungry. And I knew it. 

I think I was trying to stall just long enough in hope that this guy would disappear around the corner and it would be over. Dean persisted, still trying to get me to feed this man, but I held my ground. He was slowly walking away from us down the sidewalk, slipping away. Thank God, I thought.  

I am now embarrassed for being so self centered. I feel a bit ashamed of myself. I kept saying to Dean, “I just want to eat my pizza and relax.” as though if I kept saying that to myself it would justify my choice. Yeah, there I was a college kid on a full ride scholarship and well fed. What a tough life!

The space between us and the lame man was lengthening. And then, just when I thought  this was going to all be over a strange turn of events took place. The man, as though he read my mind,  or God’s mind. Or both, slowly did a 360 and was heading back to me. Straight toward me. 

Slowly, step after step, limp after limp, he came right up to our table. It was Dean, not I , who handed him the two slices of pizza which he gobbled down. He did not say a word. Nor did I. 

Dean also reached out and gave the man a hug saying God bless you.” 

I did nothing. 

But I still wonder if perhaps we entertained an angel. Or the angel was entertained by my pitiful selfishness. 

 

Help from Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451:

Books are amazing entities. Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451 is a prophetic masterpiece. I read it in high-school but was too young to appreciate it but  have reread it several times in the past few decades. 

The book chronicles the life of a fireman.  His job is not to put out fires but to start them. His job is to find books and burn them. In this society all individuality is suspect, and because books have individual thoughts, opinions, and feelings, all books are suspect. Books are hidden in secret places of houses.

How strange that everything is a little upside down in our current cultural system. Suppose we were fined or persecuted, or even burned, for merely reading or possessing a few books. Would we take a stand or would we just let the government burn them? Montag, the main character watched a woman remain standing on a pile of burning books. The image stuck with him. He concludes, and later recalls the story to others saying, there must be something in books for a person to be willing to do that. Why would someone just allow one self to burn-up with a pile of books?  

The other problem in this society is that everyone, ironically, is terribly lonely. No one really talks. They have a lot of high tech social media devices. Everywhere! Folks literally stay at home and talk to the walls. If they go to a restaurant/bar its the same story. Tv's are all over the place blaring. 

Here is Montag's complaint, "No one listens anymore. I cant talk to the walls because they're yelling at me. I cant talk to my wife (spouse); she/he listens to the walls. I just want someone to listen to me. 

Anyone ever feel that way?

   

      

Can We Talk People out of Fishing for that last "one more" fish?

I have, more than once, literally and with great patience, talked some fly fishers out of trying to catch "just one more". 

Of course I don't mean I am trying to talk people out of the sport of fly fishing. What I mean is we need to share the resource, slow down a bit and rise above our compulsiveness and egos. Maybe the goal is that everyone in a party gets one fish and that is enough.

If one fish is not enough then 10 will also not be enough. Here is how I see it. If you are fishing with family and friends and you catch a fish but your friend or family member has not, then we need to allow him or her, if possible, to catch up so to speak. We stop fishing, we stop competing and help the person out. 

Of course this is not a perfect system but that could be our goal. One fish, maybe two for each one of us. One or two is enough. Its going to have to be if we want the fish to survive. We would have to talk ourselves out of fly fishing for the good of the resource and for the good of a friend or loved one. But this is not going to be easy as I know I love to catch as many fish as possible and don't like to leave an opportunity unfinished.

I remember guiding one afternoon on the dream stream when I was in my late 20's. It was a large group and we were spread all out on the river. My 3 clients had caught several fish and it was time to head back to the bus. As we were walking along the river I saw another guide and friend. Steve was still with a client working a fish in a run we used to call "Lower two Riffs".  Steve suddenly yelled "strike" and the client did a bass type strike and broke off the fish again.

"How did you do Steve"? I asked. He said they did ok but there was one big fish that they broke off three times. Steve helped his clients out of the run and were slowly walking back to the bus. I also kept walking but more slowly as I was scanning the run where that client had just broken off that big fish and I saw that it was still rising to the BWO hatch. I half heartily mumbled to Steve, "So, how big was the fish".  He said, "Over 20."

That was the way the dream stream fished in the old days. You could get several chances at a big fish. Now a days, if you spook a big fish he will disappear and rest somewhere licking his wounds. Or so it seems.

While guiding I often carry a 2 weight rod rigged with a dry fly in case we have a hatch I will sometimes work with a client on dry fly skills but it is generally harder to get a beginner to hook a fish on a dry. But I love to throw a dry and especially back when I was in my late 20's and felt I had a right to show off now and then.  So I hastily said to my clients that I was walking with that I just had to make one cast (Since I could see the fish rising I justified it???). We were probably 60 yards away from the run. I said, "Ill catch up to you, it will only take a minute",  as I started a light jog to the run. I made one cast, hooked and landed the large 22 inch rainbow. I got a few cheers from my clients, and the gentleman who broke off the fish 3 times; well I'm not sure how he truly reacted, perhaps he was angry that I caught his fish.  Before releasing the fish I gently pulled out 3 extra flies from his mouth. I caught up to Steve and gave Steve his flies back. Yep, they were all his. I enjoyed a bit of laughter from Steve and the clients.

So, for a few minutes on the Dream Stream I was a type of fly fishing Guru, a "jet I fish-master",  or maybe, when I think about it more deeply,  I was a loser; a pathetic, arrogant guide in my 20's who just  had to show off and catch the big fish and stress it out even more. (at least I got those 3 extra hooks out of his mouth but that does not justify my behavior that afternoon.). I was not considerate to the fish nor the gentleman who broke the fish off 3 times, nor my clients who I was walking back with and chatting about the afternoon of fishing.

It is hard to say "no more" to oneself while fishing. It is difficult to leave those fish alone.  Maybe it only comes after one has fished a life time. I don't know. I think many people think just because a river is catch and release that we have a right to catch all the fish we can.

There are a lot of great guides and fly fishers out there who could have duplicated my actions and caught that fish and probably even done it in a more graceful manner. But that is not the issue. The issue is that we are going to have to think of these fish as a treasure and that when we fish we are going to have to learn to back off and not feel that we have to catch every fish in the river  and go for every opportunity. Or another way is to think of these fish is as our personal property. If that is so, then another question I like to ask myself, is to consider if these were my fish on my private ranch would I allow thousands of people to have "limitless" access to catch as many fish as possible every day of the year and be allowed to use all fly fishing techniques from 3 fly nymph rigs to shuffling to using pegged eggs and worm patterns? 

I would not. I would not allow nymph rigs. Perhaps I would make it a dry fly only river. I would not allow people to wade the river (you would have to learn to cast from the bank). I would close the river at least one day a week. I would close the river during the spawn. I would limit the number of anglers per day. I would not allow fishing in the heat of the afternoon hours. Close the river down at 1:00pm. These are just a few suggestions.  I would do what ever is necessary to preserve the wildness of the fishery. But in our public waters such as the "Dream Stream" we are light years away from enacting such regulations. We place our egos and money above protecting the resource.

Perhaps as a guide in his 20's I would not be able to understand these kind of fishing regulations and preservation. But now at age 63 and a retired guide I can see the damage done by guides like myself and I have no excuse.