On rare occasion my heart warms at the simplicity of it all, images of barefoot kids with alder branches and bent bobby pins – outfishing us carbon fiber augmented, Gore-tex lined, ballistic nylon equipped, and chemically sharpened City Swells – blissfully unaware of the trappings of “Power Angling” in favor of idling on the river bank with some leftover bacon rind.

Them days is long gone, but occasionally I’m allowed to be maudlin and silly.

Briefly the vision was restored upon seeing the underlying caption of the above picture, some fellow catching a monstrous Carp on a dog biscuit. I was hopeful as there wasn’t any gear present, no vendor label featured prominently on a rakish “curly-brim” – no Sage, Simm’s, or outward signs of the angling dilettante..

I’ve been misled before and checked arm position to “enhance” the photo – no fish eye lens detected, and the stern expression was okay – as his Mom might have said, “that’s wonderful Bob, You clean it.”

Nope, he’s a professional – and I’m still searching for that freckled kid with the fish twice as big as anything I’ve seen. Ma could be reading all them health conscious sites on the Internet, and Bacon’s been banned outright.

Tell me it ain’t so…

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