Tell me why you do it? I'd really like to know. Do you think it makes sense to be out there on the ice, fishing through a hole? Please don't hesitate to take these questions metaphorically... or homophonically.... or any way you like.
३ मार्च, २००९
At the Ice Hole Tavern.
Tell me why you do it? I'd really like to know. Do you think it makes sense to be out there on the ice, fishing through a hole? Please don't hesitate to take these questions metaphorically... or homophonically.... or any way you like.
याची सदस्यत्व घ्या:
टिप्पणी पोस्ट करा (Atom)
पोस्ट्स
२८ टिप्पण्या:
It looks remarkably like something else.
All I can think about is this speech from Johnny Dangerously.
What do you think of ice diving? My dad used to that in the '60's in the Madison lakes.
I have a very treasured B&W photograph of him and a buddy at the edge of the ice in full gear before a dive. It's actually a very "arty" photo, taken by a young Bruce Fritz. The ice had no snow that day, and because of the lighting merges seamlessly with the calm water. The men appear as black silhouettes. One appears to be standing on water, while the other is seated on the ice shelf, lower legs seemingly swallowed by water and ice.
I’m told that the big attraction was the greater underwater visibility due to water clarity (no algae weeds in winter). They also enjoyed scaring ice fishermen by popping a head or an arm up through those fishing holes.
(OK I made that last part up but the rest is true).
So if you call someone an icehole then will it pass the language filter?
Yes, seven machos it does look like something else.
If you squint it looks like a black and white photo of an acorn.
Revealing inner duality, a "fishin' hole" is probably more closely associated with a barefoot summertime retreat in a leafy wood.
Appropriately, the theme of The Andy Griffith Show" was also known as The Fishin' Hole.
The Fishin' Hole lyrics:
Well take down your fishin' pole
And meet me at the fishin' hole
We may not get a bite all day
But don't you rush away
What a great place to rest your bones
And mighty fine for skippin' stones
You feel fresh as a lemonade
A-settin' in the shade
Whether it's hot, whether it's cool
Oh what a spot for whistlin' like a fool
What a fine day to take a stroll
And wander by the fishin' hole
I can't think of a better way
To pass the time of day
We'll have no need to call the roll
When we get to the fishin' hole
There'll be you, me, an' old dog Gray
To do the time away
If we don't hook a perch or bass
We'll pool our toes in dewy grass
Or else pull up a weed to chaw
And maybe set and jaw
Hangin' around, takin' our ease
Watchin' that hound a-scratchin' at his fleas
Well take down your fishin' pole
And meet me at the fishin' hole
I can't think of a better way
To pass the time of day
Aw, crap, this is like trying to find images in clouds. I never could do that. They look like...clouds.
This looks like...a hole!
And any one I perceive against the gods' will attempting/ to go among the Trojans and help them, or among the Danaans,/ he shall go whipped against his dignity back to Olympos;/ or I shall take him and dash him down to the murk of Tartaros,/ far below, where the uttermost depth of the pit lies under/ earth, where there are gates of iron and a brazen doorstone,/ as far beneath the house of Hades as from the earth the sky lies.
Yes, it makes sense to be out there on the ice. It's a very worthwhile endeavor. It's like reaching into another dimension, opening up a whole new reality.
Chip,
Bravo!
unHoly pinching of loaves and fishes Chip! Nice before and after gape.
Very nice, Chip!
But... really, doesn't that ice look a little thing to be walking on?
At the Ice Hole Tavern
Where the snow pussies lurk
We drop a baited hook
Through the hole into the murk.
Look, I caught one!
Oh carp, it's a crap.
Strike that, reverse;
Oh crap, it's a carp.
Titus would be trying some BombPop Loaf Pinching when some courageous carp would fly up outta that hole, do some Butt Spelunking, and find...Titus's soul.
Ice fishing is secondarily about actually fishing, and primarily about wearing thick clothes while drinking beer and brandy.
Pabst Blue Ribbon and Korbel seem to be the beverages of choice, if judged by the empties left in the waste barrel near the boat landing at the lake where I live.
Some ice fishers leave their fish on the ice. That attracts eagles which swoop down and grab the fish, or sometimes land on the ice and stay a while.
A family of four eagles has built a nest at the top of a tree along the shore, near the edge of my land. They have enjoyed a steady diet of freshly-caught panfish this winter as local fisherpeople have been leaving food for them.
Sometimes the eagles sit on tree branches to eat their lunch. One of their favorite lunchtime perches is a branch within about 50 feet of the window in my living room.
They perch on their perches eating perch.
The unstated aim for some when ice fishing is solitude, that increasingly rare event.
THE DESIRE FOR HERMITAGE
Samuel Barber
Ah! To be all alone in a little cell
with nobody near me;
beloved that pilgrimage before the last pilgrimage to death.
Singing the passing hours to cloudy Heaven;
Feeding upon dry bread and water from the cold spring.
That will be an end to evil when I am alone
in a lovely little corner among tombs
far from the houses of the great.
Ah! To be all alone in a little cell, to be alone, all alone:
Alone I came into the world
alone I shall go from it.
"Before,
When people had secrets they didn't want to share
They'd go out in the wilderness,
Find a frozen lake and drill a hole in it,
And whisper the secret in the hole.
Then let the hole freeze over.
That way, nobody else would ever discover it."
Ahoy there, Chip!
Please block Titus from access to this post.
That is all.
For those Whose Line fans:
ice hole
It just goes to show you how much men want to get out of the house and go somewhere that nobody is telling them what to do.
That reminds me of an ex-girlfriend.
In the woods or on the ice, men can act as men used to in generations past– not as they are told they should today. Today, men are forced into one of the two typical TV stereo types – dimwitted fathers or overeducated children who happen to have reached 30. There is no room for wise men with dreams, aspirations, goals and fears. But in the woods or on the ice, men can discuss these things. Men can truly bond. Younger men can and are willing to learn from the elders, fathers once again become respected sages and younger men are eager to learn from their fathers’ experiences. And magically once you are back in civilization none of your friends will rat you out or call you a wus because of what went down on the ice.
Knock yourself out, but I think I've got something else to do.
Ice fishing starts with boring.
Need I say more?
"Tell me why you do it? I'd really like to know. Do you think it makes sense to be out there on the ice, fishing through a hole?"
Tell me why you do this -- apparently trying to imply that there's something about fishing that makes the men engaged in it closet homosexuals. (Not that there's anything wrong with homosexuals; but you seem to be using this as a barb.) One post, I can let go; maybe you thought that the photo (that happened to make it look as though the two fishermen were holding hands) was cute. Two posts is a pattern. And this photo is of a hole.
Sometimes a hole is just a hole.
Why do men fish? Because hunting and fishing tie them to the past -- it allows a man to viscerally experience the same things (sometimes in the very same woods or ponds) that past generations did; and it takes a man back to his childhood, and to fishing trips with his father. It gives a person a feelings of independence from society, and a sense of belonging within nature, as a part of it. It provides an excuse to go out to a quiet, peaceful spot, alone, and sit by a river and think.
That, and the whole pole thing. I just love to sit there with a big, long pole in my hands.
Seriously -- of all the activities that you could have picked on, you choose fishing? Not football, say, where the QB crouches over center and makes a pass to the tight end, who then penetrates the end zone -- no, you chose fishing for this little lark. Very odd.
@Pastafarian I didn't say anything about gay guys. And everyone knows I love gay guys.
Very simple explanation from an ex-Badger: spousal avoidance. When those long Midwestern winters get to them, the menfolk, who are going nuts from it all, need a bit of separation from the womenfolk, who are also a bit crackers at that point. And, while your wife may follow you down to the local watering hold, few women are dumb enough to want to go icefishing.
Of course, the best strategy is to buy the basic equipment and TELL the missus that you're going icefishing and then go to a bar two towns over. But otherwise these days you can find guys in their icehuts with cold beer (no fridge required, of course) and a battery operated TV set watching the game.
Of course, all this is pre-global warming.
टिप्पणी पोस्ट करा