20060629a Boys Will Be Boys With Their Toys

I do not fish. I never have, really. Well, I say never—perhaps a couple of times.

Once as a boy I remember our family fishing at a stream somewhere. I had been casting and reeling and casting and reeling to no avail. As I was reeling in what I had decided was to be my final cast, I felt resistance. Something was on the line! It was a fish alright.

As I reeled it in I was congratulating myself on my skill. Then, when the fish broke the surface, I realized that perhaps I was not the accomplished angler after all. I pulled in the line to discover that the first of only two fish I have landed in my lifetime had not taken the bait in its mouth but had been snagged in the eye.

Not being an angler, I feel a bit out of place here. My roommate has just finished work and it pulling on waders. He will be joining Greg and Pat and who knows what other of my colleagues standing in the cold water casting fly rods for salmon or trout. They will be out there with several visiting anglers who have paid hundreds if not thousands of dollars for the privilege.

Having been short, thin, nearly legally blind, and uncoordinated growing up, sports were never a huge part of my life. I did run and hike a bit, but that required only effort, not skill. Yeah, I shot a few hoops in my teen years and became a passable shooter. However, I was a perfect example of what they say white men cannot do, I’ll be darned if I could dribble without looking at the ball, and as for passing it between my legs—fugetaboutit!

I finally grew to 6 feet as a 17-year-old, I’ve put on quite a few pounds over the last few years, and surgery has corrected my vision—but nothing can change my lack of athleticism. Thus my toys are not baseballs and basketballs or rifles and fishing rods. My toys are computers and mp3 players and cameras and card readers.

Today Roy loaned me yet another plaything from his extensive toy box. This time it is an old Nikon Coolpix camera that he has rigged to be an infrared camera. Having been up late last night and arising relatively early this morning, I was hoping to take a nap in the rocking chair this afternoon. Instead, I experimented shooting what I could shoot from that chair. The effect resembles black and white but is not. Some light colored objects appear dark and vice versa. People appear ghastly. What fun! Peter Pan is alive and well and living in Brooks Camp.