Snakes

SNAKES

 

            Snakes; nasty stinky little slithering creatures that God cursed to crawl on their bellies for the rest of their days. I am not sure why God punished us by keeping them around instead of sending them to the fiery pits of hell that they deserve but if he did, I wouldn’t have had so many fond memories of my dad dancing jigs and screaming every time he seen one. There are so many stories I can tell about our experiences with snakes but I have decided to tell a few now and save the rest for a running series of snake stories that I am sure that my dad is going to love! (Not really. He really does not like snakes.)

            Along with being scared of snakes, dad is also very jumpy or goosey as we call it. I have seen him back into branches that poke him in the leg and he will jump and squeal as if an 80 foot python has just latched ahold of him. This makes for fun times when he is working intently on something and we sneak up behind him and pinch the back of his leg and hiss. We think it is hilarious but should probably quit such acts so that we can still hang around with him.

            Several years ago me and my dad were fishing one of our favorite holes of water, trying to catch a few spring bass. The day was going pretty good, we had caught a few bass but for the most part we really didn’t care as long as we are on the river fishing and swopping fishing stories. We came up on a hollow log that was hanging out over the water and dad happened to notice that there was a possum tail dangling out of the end. Now, one thing about being a Reed is that we do things that are not always smart but you can guarantee that when we do these stupid things that there will always be a story for us to tell and others to laugh over. This was one of those times. I was running the motor on the boat and dad was sitting up front.

“Hey, ease the boat over by the end of that log. I am going to grab that sleepin’ possum’s tail and toss him out in the river!” Dad said giggling like a school girl.

“Oh man this is going to be funny.” I said giggling like the little school girl’s best friend.

I pulled up alongside the log and dad reached in to grab that sleeping possum and he froze. His legs start shaking like he was a dog pooping a peach pit and he started whispering something I couldn’t understand.

“Huh? Grab that ol’ possum and fling him in the river.” I said still laughing.

“Snake…” Dad said whispering again. “Back the boat up. Go forward. Go left or something. He’s lookin’ at me.”

“What? A snake?” I started laughing. “You want me to stay right here?”

“Boy!” Dad whispered loudly. “Get me away from this snake.”

“Fling him out into the river dad.” I said laughing.

Dad did not find the humor in his situation and I guess I shouldn’t have either cause it was a pretty big cottonmouth in there but I couldn’t help it.

            On the same hole of water on a different day dad got one of his favorite crank bait’s hung in an oak tree hanging over the water. It was full of green leaves and the hook was buried on a branch so I eased the boat up to the branches hanging over the water. Dad didn’t think it was funny when I plowed him right into the branches so that he could get his favorite lure out of the tree. It looked like the tree had eaten him; they wrapped their arms around him and tangled the line from his pole up.

“Dadgumit! What’s the matter with you?” Dad yelled. I laughed.

“Ahhh! Snake! Back up! Back up!” Dad shouted.

I started laughing and backed the boat up so dad could get out of the tree and noticed it was just a four foot green snake. Not poisonous. So I put the boat in gear again and we plowed back into the tree, which happened with enough force that the little snake fell down a few limbs and was right over his head.

“Ahhh! Back up! Back up dadgummit!” Dad shouted over my laughter but as I backed up dads line broke leaving his favorite lure hanging among the tree limbs with that green snake.

“Dad your lure is still in that tree. Here, let me ease you back up there so you can get it.” I said laughing.

“I am going to come back there and beat you with the boat paddle!” Dad shouted though he had started to laugh as well.

            The best snake story though has to be about my dad and my brother. For a couple of years there was a running prank between the two dealing with dead snakes. Dad doesn’t mind dead snakes, well as long as he is scaring someone else with them that is. Dad had shot a copperhead that was in the yard one day and went to pitch it into a brush pile when he realized that he could scare my brother with it. At the time he was living with my mom and dad and was working a late shift. So, dad laid the copperhead right under his driver side door so when his dome light hit it that night he would see it right between his legs. The plan worked perfectly, my brother screamed and almost peed his pants. But, what dad had not counted on was Steve using the dead snake against him.

            Steve took the snake back down to the house and coiled it up next to the front door in my mom’s flowers as if it was still alive and hiding. At the time dad still smoked and every morning he would step out on the front porch, stretch and look at the woods while he enjoyed his early morning cigarette. Well, while enjoying this smoke he happened to turn and notice a copperhead lying in the marigolds ready to strike. He ran into the house, grabbed his shotgun, ran back outside and blasted my mom’s flowers sending mud and rocks against the house and scaring the crap out of my mom. When dad told Steve about the snake he had killed right next to the house he couldn’t help but laugh and then told dad it was the same snake that he had gotten him with the night before.

            Episodes like this played on and on with the two until one day Steve was in a hurry and didn’t have time to set dad up with the snake that was coiled up on the top of Steve’s car so he just pitched it in the woods. Little did Steve know but that was the best place to put it. Dad lived in fear for three days while he tried to figure out where Steve had put the snake. Dad was convinced that it was in the house and mom swore that if it was in the house that both Steve and dad would be sleeping outside. Every time dad opened a cabinet he would do it slowly hoping that the dead snake would not shoot out at him. He searched his Jeep, looking under the seats and in the engine compartment and could never find it and finally said, “Okay, I can’t take it anymore. Where did you put that stupid snake?”

Steve started laughing, “Is that what’s wrong with you? Man, I threw that thing in the brush three days ago!” Dad didn’t believe him and figured it had to be somewhere around the house.

            Needless to say me and my brother have had our share of snake scares but those will be saved for another blog entry, for today we will just reminisce on the ones that scared dad.

The Joys of Taking Your Wife Fishing

The Joys of Taking your wife fishing

 

 

            When my wife and I had first gotten married, she had asked to come with me fishing in my bass boat. I agreed and we headed out on Fredericktown City Lake for a day of bass fishing. I don’t know if you other fisherman have the same problem I do (well, I don’t really think it is a problem) but I have a way of thinking that other people are not as skilled and great at fishing as I am, even if that someone is a family member. I like to break things down Barney style and explain to them why bass do what they do and how to catch them and I always start them out with baby steps. Things that I know will work, they may produce small fish, but they will produce a lot of fish and fun for whomever I take fishing with me. I took this approach when we set out on our fishing journey.

“Ok baby, you are going to use this beetle spin. It’s real easy to use, just cast it out and reel it in and I guarantee you are going to catch some fish.”

“If it works so well then why ain’t you using one?” Sandi asked as she pointed at the ribbon tailed worm I was getting ready to pitch along some brush.

“Well, these work too, but they are a little bit harder to use. Like I said, that one is easy, you just cast it out and reel it in.”

“Well I want to use what you are using.” She was making this difficult already and we had been on the water for five minutes.

“I want to use that rod and reel you are using too. You can cast farther with that one.”

I had rigged her up on a Zebco 33, once again a very simple outfit to use, just push the button and cast. I on the other hand was using my Diawa Super Duper Bass Catching Bait casting rig that was waaaay to advanced for such a novice fisherwoman.

“No baby. You will be frustrated all day backlashing and not catching fish. That Zebco will work just fine.”

“If it works so well then why ain’t you using it?” Geeeeezzz!

“Because I have been using them for a while and I know how to use it.”

She mulled up and I could tell that this fishing trip was not going to be as fun as it was supposed to be.

“Well crap!” Sandi said under her breath after making a beautiful cast along the rocky bank.

“What happened baby?”

“I am stuck.” Here we go. A day of getting her unstuck from the brush and listening to her question my bass fishing expertise.

“Hold on, I will get you unstu..” Before I could finish my sentence Sandi screamed, “I ain’t stuck I got a fish! Woohoo!” I watched as the two pound largemouth darted from the brush and began her beautiful dance on the water, shaking her head trying to free herself from the beetle spin that had lodged itself in the corner of her mouth. Sandi laughed the whole time she reeled in her first largemouth and laughed even harder as I lifted it from the water for her.

“That was fun. I want to catch another one.”

“See I told you that thing works.”

“Yes you did. Hey, I have caught one and you haven’t caught any!” She said and started laughing.

Oh, she done did it.

She made this a competition. I began casting harder along the bank, working lure after lure with every presentation I could think of for the situation we was fishing. Nothing was hitting what I was throwing and on top of that I started backlashing my reel about every other cast and had to spend precious minutes picking out the bird nest of line. Several more times that day I heard her squeal and laugh as she reeled in bluegill and perch, one after another as she gave off a count of what fish she was on and how I was still at zero. I tried to save face by saying bluegill and perch didn’t count; making up my own rules as we went only to have her point out that she had caught a bass and I still hadn’t caught anything.

“I guess I am just a better fisherman than you are huh?” She would say. It was embarrassing and I was ready to say I was taking my ball and going home when I got a bite. Finally the fishing God’s had felt that I had taken enough punishment from my wife and would grant me the fish that would tie us up and I wouldn’t have to hear how she was a better fisherman than I was. The fish nibbled again, I set the hook and missed.

“Dadgummit!” I shouted at the water as Sandi giggled in the seat behind me. “Did you miss one honey?” She asked mockingly.

            We eased our boat around the concrete dam to where a small log jam had formed after some heavy rain we had had several weeks back. I watched as my wife made the most beautiful cast I had ever seen. That beetle spin gracefully soared thru the air, landing in the crook of a log without a splash as her line lightly touched the water without even catching on an overhanging limb. “Crap, that isn’t were I wanted it.” She said. Whether it was or wasn’t it was a beautiful cast that would have made Kevin Van Dam proud.

“Dang it! I’m stuck.” Hahaha finally the great fisherman had fallen I had thought to myself.

“No, wait! I got a fish! Holy cow he’s huge!” Dang you fishing God’s! Whose side you on here!?

It was a good bass, probably pushing four pounds.

“Looks smaller than the one you caught earlier.” I said.

“No it’s not! He’s huge! It’s a lot bigger than the one you caught.” She said giggling and laughing loudly as she studied her catch.

Luckily it was time for us to head home so that we could meet the kids when they got home from school and I didn’t have to take anymore bashing on the lake. She smiled the whole way home, poking me in the side and telling me about how much fun it was to catch those fish. I am not sure what she had more fun doing, razzing me for not catching a thing or actually catching the mess of fish that she did, but it didn’t matter. She was happy and had enjoyed doing something that I love to do. As we got out of the truck to unhook our boat at the house Sandi said, “I am glad you showed me that beetle spin that is all they wanted to eat today.” And just like that she made me feel victorious again. She was right. I did show her what to use and she caught fish so the day wasn’t a total bust for me; I was able to show her how to use the basics to catch fish and she had fun spending time with me catching fish. I was still a fishing expert. I puffed my chest out a little bit, walked a little bit straighter and said, “Yep, just wanted you to catch some fish baby. Wasn’t really worried if I caught any you know?” I lied.

“Uh huh. And I am sure you let me win too didn’t ya?” She said with a smile.

“Yeah that’s what it was; I let you catch all of them so you would have fun.”

“You’re so full of crap! I out fished you! Woohoo! I am a better fisherman!” She shouted as she walked to the house.

I hung my head again and laughed.