Fish Talk: Secrets

Secrets:

There is no better feeling than the day you pull up to a crowded lake, everybody turns and watches as you fix up your line. Their looks say, " I haven't caught anything all day. There is no way you're going to". You pick a spot and cast. Wham. You've caught a fish. You can practically hear the other anglers, sitting in their little lawn chairs, ask, "What's his secret?"

Everyone seems to have a secret. Whether its a knot, fishing hole, lure, or way of reeling, its as important to fishing as the fish. What I don't get is how they remain secrets. All too often some guy will tell you his secret to catching the killerwhale of trout. Then you hear him telling the next guy too. Pretty soon the whole lake knows. Is that really a secret?

Anyways, you need a secret. It doesn't mean you have to go tell the whole world. But the day you have a secret is the day that you are a true fisherman. When you first start out I recommend keeping your secrets to yourself. The only thing more embarrassing than telling a guy your secret and it not working for him is when you tell him and then it doesn't work for you.

Through the years I've heard many secrets, and I've had many of my own secrets. Here's one that I'm willing to pass along. One day I was fishing at a reservoir with my dad, uncle and cousin. It just so happened that I started catching fish. I looked to my right. My cousin had his line tangled up and the only thing he caught was himself. My uncle was on my left and hadn't caught much. My dad was nowhere to be seen. My uncle asked, "Zac whats your secret?" At that moment I realized one of the most important fishing secrets. It's all about luck.

Fish Talk (This is a new segment of my blog. Its all about fishing, my experiences, and how to fit in as a fisherman.)

Fishing is great. It can be relaxing, exciting, frustrating, and awe inspiring all in one. But it isn't easy to be a fisherman. Every community has it's do's and don'ts. If you do the do's but not the don'ts you'll fit, but if you do the don'ts and not the do's you won't. These are a few of the do's and don'ts I've noticed for the fishing community.

St. Buds Day*

What's that?
A challenge, a feat!
Be not afraid to say, 'I'll step forth upon this day'.

We may die.

Yet if we live, the few that may, upon this day brothers we'll be made.
For that
I shall be glad to die today.

Scared are ye?
Depart hence!
For upon this day, upon St. Buds day, there is no place for thee.
But if you stay and outlive this day, years from now you'll stand and say 'I was there on St. Buds day'.

Old age forgets.
But you'll tap your brow and manage a bow.
For we happy few, we very few, will not forget
or be forgot among the best of you.


*Inspired by Shakespeare's St. Crispens day speech in Henry V, and the annual scavenger hunt

Pee U, Was That You?

The problem with a blog like mine is that only people I know tend to read it. Therefore the probability of someone reading a story and realizing it is about them, is high. But at the risk of offending someone I write this anyways.

Before my wingman aka K-shizzle departed for the south pacific we had a tradition. I call it the annual birthday double. Kaleb would find a date, I'd find a date, and we'd double. As simple as that. In all actuallity it tended to be more like this. "Zac! I don't want to go on a date". I'd beg. "Do it for me, its my birthday. Kaleb please get a date. For me". He'd relent and get a date. Then my date would bail. But Kaleb would then have a date and I couldn't leave him hanging. So I'd scramble around, get rejected by almost every girl I know, but one. Which is a good thing because I only needed one date. Then just as I would find a replacement date his date would call and tell him that she had the flu and couldn't go. But then I had a date and he couldn't leave me hanging so he'd go through a similar process as mine. Eventually we'd both have dates.

Anyways it was the annual birthday double. We'd gone through the whole process of finding dates and now we were driving up the canyon to go shooting. Have you ever heard that little ditty of a song that goes like this, "Driving down the highway, going 64 when someone let a big and blew me out the door. The wheels started shaking, the engine fell apart, all because of your supersonic fart". Well driving up a beautiful canyon in late Autumn someone let a big one and nearly blew me out the door. Thank goodness for seatbelts. Typically I'd voice my displeasure at the culprit, but seeing as I was on a date I decided to be a little more delicate. I rolled down the windows. Problem solved. The date proceeded and for all acounts it was a success. Until we started back down the canyon. Then someone did it again. I nearly died right there. This was no ordinary fart. I could see the headlines of the newspaper the following day. Four Youth Die In A Car Crash Caused by Lingering Fumes. Lucky for me, and all the other people in the car, including the culprit, I had a brilliant idea that saved our lives. By this time it was too cold to unroll the windows, instead I turned up the heat as high as it would go. Our sense of smell was quickly burned out. Literally.

After the date ended I pulled Kaleb aside. "Was that you?" I asked. "No, I thought it was you" he replied. We looked at eachother and realized, one of our dates had one heck of an upset stomach.

To Ring!

Deep Breaths. In. Out. Deep. With each step I came closer to hurling. Deep Breaths. Pounding, aching, pounding, aching. Air became cement. "Come on!" I screamed. I couldn't stop. I wanted to, but I couldn't. Deep Breaths. Pounding, Aching, Pounding, "AHHHHH!" I roared. Deep Breaths. I couldn't.
At first it was quiet, creeping like a mouse. Braver it grew, becoming a whisper in the wind. Braver still. Still. Still. Then it was too late.
"NOOOOOO!" I cried. Breath! One lung. Then, the other. I had to breath. One final lunge.
It was over, the doorbell rang.
Seconds, minutes, hours. How long? I looked at my watch. Seconds.
The door opened.
"Hi. Let me grab my coat and we can go." she said, smiling pleasantly.
"Okay" I replied.
Victorious.

Stalker Girl

Step back in time with me. This time-traveling adventure is not all that long ago. It is my senior year of high school. 2005-06. Try not to be offended. She wasn't the funniest, best looking, or most charming girl. In fact she kind of freaked me out.
Physical contact generally makes me feel uncomfortable, especially from the opposite sex. I don't know why, but girls seem to use contact as a way of expression more than guys. I guess I just haven't gotten over that kindergarten mentality of cooties. When a girl sits next to me and bumps my leg with hers, I cringe. When she reaches across me, I curl into a defensive ball. Intentional contact makes me flinch, such as: lightly touching my knee with her hand to get my attention. To add my disclaimer; physical contact has its place. I don't mind hugging a family member or close friend. But I would prefer it if most people kept there distance. Maybe this phobia is a key to my being single? Back to my story.
The one thing she did have going for her was a sweet heart. She seemed to smile a lot, and she was very friendly. A little too friendly. Every time she said hello, she would grab my arm. This squeezing of biceps and caressing of flesh, made me queasy.
Survival instincts kicked in. I learned to keep my back to a wall, and my eyes peeled. When I saw her coming towards me I would quickly duck away. But she was an experienced hunter. She would approach from down wind. Then she'd pounce. She would grab my arm, and smile as she said hello.
I was losing sleep. She haunted my dreams. I needed help, so I turned to my brother.
"Kaleb" I said. "I don't know what to do. This girl is practically stalking me. Every time she sees me she comes up grabs my arm and caresses." He laughed and asked "Is her name Megan? (Not really her name, but in case she or a friend reads my blog!)"
"Yes" I replied.
"I can't help you. She does the same thing to me."
I don't know if she was always that way, or if it was just Ostraff boys that received her "special hello". Either way we didn't like it and decided to help each other out. We quickly came up with a warning signal. When either one of us saw her we would signal the other and both duck away.
It worked 90% of the time. The other 10% became a contest between the two of us. One of us would see her, and let the other walk into the trap. While the one with the misfortune of being caught had to put up with the arm caressing, the other one slinked by.
Once again I was able to sleep.
Fast forward to Yesterday. My brother Josh and I are at the movie theatre buying tickets.
"Oh hi, I barely recognize you" the ticket girl says. Trying not to look confused, I looked closer. It was her! The stalker girl from high school.
"Hi" I replied, secretly feeling grateful for the glass that separated us.

Like a Brick

Passsed the spilled coke on the now sticky floor. Through the masses of people socializing in the Halls of Provo High. Beyond the smells of lunch wafting from the school cafeteria. The sound of jingling keys cut through the air, like a hot knife passing through butter.
“Shut up!” yelled Adam Henry. The best way to describe Adam would be like a brick, solid and unbreakable, quite a lot like a Chevrolete. And just like a Chevrolete you could depend on his ego to match his bulk. In reality a Honda or Toyota was more dependable, but that is an argument for another day. Adam was the center of the universe. Life was either about him or it didn't matter.
I looked at his chiseled torso, and bulky arms in disgust. I wasn't in the mood to put up with his crap. I wanted to vomit. How anybody could enjoy a life so self-revolving escaped me.
“Stop, or else,” Adam threatened. I looked down at my jingling keys, at Adam, and then back at my keys, and continued jingling them. If he wanted to make the whole world about him that was his problem, not mine.
Whether the jingling keys bothered him, or my lack of respect did, Adam had enough. He stood up, pushed his way through some freshmen, and walked up to me.
“I said stop.” he said. I looked at his hulking mass and decided I didn't care. I kept jingling my keys.
By this time we had gathered quite a crowd. Sadly most of them wanted to see who Adam's latest victim was. I didn't really want to be a victim, but I was too stubborn to relent to his bullying. The only thing I hated more than being told what to do was when someone tried to bully me into doing it.
With his gorilla-like hand, Adam snatched at my keys. I may have been smaller than him, but I wasn't slower. Flinging my arm to the side I avoided grasping fingers. He lunged again, and again, each time I just moved my hand to the side. Eventually he realized I was too quick, and stopped snatching at the keys. The surrounding crowd began laughing.
If it wasn't for the crowd it probably would've ended there. Adam's pride wouldn't let him lose with this many people watching. Thinking he was finished I turned back towards my friends. With a roar Adam grabbed me from behind.
Tighter and tighter he squeezed. There wasn't much I could do. He had me wrapped in an enormous bear-hug and he was twice my size. But my hands were free and I still had my keys. So I just kept jingling.
“Give me your keys!” Adam yelled in my ear, making them ring like a bell.
“Why don't you take them,” I taunted.
“Ahhh” he roared and hoisted me towards a big black garbage can. Realizing that he intended to dump me into a bucket of soggy sandwiches and other assorted material, I kicked out with my legs. With a stroke of luck, one of my legs sent the garbage can sailing through the crowd. By this time my patience had run out. I had enough.
“Let go of me now” I ordered.
“What if I don't?” he asked.
“Do you really want to find out?” I replied through clenched teeth.
Very slowly Adam relaxed his bear-hug and let me go. I turned and faced him. This whole thing had gone way too far and I wasn't going to let him get away with it.
“Come on, just hit me.” Adam taunted. “Or are you a chicken? Just hit me.”
I was ready to become a sledgehammer that would break this brick. With my fists clenched, and my body tensed to move, a new voice cut through the electrically charged air.
“Zac, we have state track tomorrow.” It was my friend Jared. Ahhhhhhhhhhh! Adam was so annoying. I was sick of him and his self-revolving world. But Jared was right, I had state track, and if I got in a fight I wouldn't be able to race.
In angry silence Adam and I stared at each other. Finally Adam turned and walked away. I know that I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help it. As he walked away I gave my keys one last jingle. Adam stopped. I could see the enmity rise from his shoulders. Just then the bell rang and lunch ended.
The crowd quickly dispersed. As I walked passed the spilled coke, I couldn't help smiling.