We've all had them. We all dread them. After they're over, we usually can
laugh about them (crying really doesn't do any good). I'm talking about one
of those "Murphy Days". You know, Murphy, the poor guy that got named for
the laws: Murphy's Law, "If anything can go wrong, it will!" I guess it was my
turn, although there are times when I think Murphy is stalking me, just
sitting there waiting for me to plan something so he can spoil it.
I decided that it was time I took a little time for myself today and do a
little fishing early in the morning. I figure that if you don't treat
yourself once in a while you start to forget to enjoy life. The alarm went
off at 5:00 A.M., right on time. Of course, Murphy being at my bedside
already, I turned it off instead of just hitting the "snooze" button. So at
7:15 when I finally woke up I was already over 2 hours behind my planned
"schedule". Apparently, Murphy did not sleep during those 2 hours. I
looked out the window to see where the sun was, rubbed the glass, rubbed my eyes,
rubbed the glass again. Totally gray out there.
Fog, big time! So much for a 2 hour drive to the trout stream as
planned....
Okay, so I still have the river full of smallies and crappies. They're not
what I had planned on, but what the hey! Fishing is fishing, right? I
opened my tackle locker only to find that Murphy had helped my wife "organize
things". They (Murphy and my wife) had decided that my vest was getting too
full and heavy so they had emptied it all out. All of my fly boxes were
neatly stacked on shelves, leaders organized by weight hung on hooks, tools
next to them. My vest hung neatly on a coat hanger on the left side of the
locker, newly washed, even the wool on the drying tab was brushed out! Each
rod case was stacked neatly in the back and all of the reels were sitting on
a shelf. Gosh, you have no idea how much I appreciated all
this attention to detail! For some reason appreciation was not the emotion
I was feeling, and for once I was glad that she wasn't present to hear my
appreciation!
So, after an hour of reloading my vest, finding which rod was in which case,
and getting a reel and line on it, I headed for the river, a mere 100 feet.
By now the fog was burning out and the sun was starting to break through.
At least that would be a little helpful. But Murphy was still around. I could
tell. Hiding somewhere just out of sight, but watching. Picking his time
with care and calculation. After all, it was quickly becoming his day, not
mine. About half way to the river I managed to step in one of the neighbors
dogs "gifts". Not to worry, it's only "natural". Wipe it off on the wet
grass, no problemo...make a mental note to thank the neighbor for the
natural fertilizer later... luckily I didn't slip and fall in it! Thought too soon,
Murphy heard. Landed on my butt, right next to it....hey, maybe Murphy is
also slipping up. Nope, Murphy never slips up, my vest, that I had in my
hand instead of on my back is full of "it". Make a mental note to rewash the
vest.
Finally, I'm at the river. I carefully open one of the pockets of the vest,
steering clear of the "fertilizer", and promptly get a familiar "stinging
sensation". Seems when I fell Murphy tactfully opened a flybox and the
contents were spilled inside the vest pocket. Another mental note, buy
better flyboxes. I said another "gosh" or something similar. Okay, now I have
doggy do on my shoe and vest, I'm almost 3 hours behind "schedule" and I have a #8
bunny tail streamer attached to my finger inside the vest pocket.
Fortunately, the barb went all of the way through, unfortunately it also
went through to the outside of the vest, pinning my finger inside. Am I having a
good time yet? Another mental note: Next time tie with barbless hooks!
So with my left hand carefully extruding my forceps out of the vest, and
Murphy watching over my shoulder, I come to the end of the tether on the
forceps, pulling on the vest, in turn pulling the hook attached to the
finger. Another "gosh" and another mental note: find a longer tether for the
forceps. Okay, Murphy, you win. I walked back up to the house, "vest in hand", set
the rod by the door, and went inside. Like a signal from Murphy, the phone
immediately starts ringing. I pick it up, my wife asks how fishing
went......
All I could think of at that moment was "Gosh!" I paused, looked at my
vest, finger still in the pocket, a small red stain was now showing through, took
a deep breath and said "Great, honey! I should do it a little more often and
thanks for organizing my tackle locker!" She said she knew I'd appreciate it
and asked if I'd noticed that she'd washed my vest? "Yes, I noticed, thank
you very much for everything!" We hung up and I went to find a wire cutter.
~ Randy Fratzke
|