"Trout fishing in America", or "catch and release"

Ok, yes, I borrowed a title from Richard Brautigan. And another title from a movie.  Wow. How unoriginal is that?  Oh nevermind.

I was thinking today.  I don't know how I got started on this.  But, trout fishing?  Is their trauma on the fish, as he is taken from the water, hook removed and then returned to the stream?  Is it a spiritual occasion for the poor fish?  Does the fish go through some sort of near death experience?  Does he share that experience at "school" the next day?

 I have heard it said that fishes have a 3-second memory span.  So, I guess not. 

 These are the questions that I think about on occasion.  I lead an interesting life.  

D.

Quote

I read a review about an upcoming book on the friendship between Sarte and Camus.  Apparently they were both 'smitten' by the same young actress.  Each had an affair of sorts with her. I came across a quote about love that I thought apropos for a poet.  And I am sure a lot of people feel this way.  Not this poet.  I love my wife dearly and she is the purpose and pleasure of my life.  I just wanted to share this. 

"...But perhaps Camus had their close encounter in mind when he wrote: 'It is necessary to fall in love – the better to provide an alibi for all the despair we are going to feel anyway.'

The Boxer and the Goalkeeper by Andy Martin is published by Simon & Schuster.

Dinner without phones

My wife and I went out to dinner the other night.  We left our cell phones at home.  Imagine that.  I think we both just wanted a nice quiet evening alone together with no distractions. 

I came home from work that afternoon, went through the mail, paid the bills and waited for my son to come home from his first job.  That kid is amazing.  Most of the summer he has been sitting in front of the xbox, either blowing up aliens, zombies or the enemy of the day, and it has been a chore sometimes to get him to utter more than one syllable about how his day went.  These days, a little more than a week into his first real job, he comes home and has so much to share. 

That afternoon he was talking about how much work they did.  He said he finally feels like one of the guys because they started joking with him, and even playing harmless little practical  jokes.  He had plans for the evening, so he told me all about those.  Then he mentioned that he would be home early because he has to work in the morning.  Wow.  Is this my kid?  He seems so different. 

My wife came home shortly after my son left for his evening.  I told her we were alone.  Hmmm.  What do you want to do?  Let's go out to dinner.  Let's have someone wait on us.  And so we did.  A nice little sushi place around the corner (and down the street, past the medical offices across from the bank).  well, it's in the neighborhood. 

Quiet?  Right.  The place was crowded - happy hour.  And I could hardly hear her talk.  Funny, I could have used my cell phone just to talk to  her.  And we were the only ones.  The only ones with out cell phones.  The place was full.  We had to wait to be seated- longer than five minutes.  People were talking on their phones to people about work.  People were texting.  (I would have loved to take a picture of what I ordered but...I left my cell phone at home.) 

Later, on the drive home, my wife was worried that we missed some important message from one of the kids.  She mentioned that they have never known a world without cell phones.  Indeed, when they were younger they didn't much care.  But as they got older, they had phones. 

Amazing how our lives have become.  I long for the day without phones.  What a quiet world that will be. 

D.

Work - challenges

This week has been, uh, interesting.  Work is always a place of intrigue and mystery.  I get my job done,  mostly accurate and on-time but there is always something that can go wrong.  Always some challenge to overcome.

Those challenges this week left me depressed.  That depression might have roots in my personal life but it manifested itself at work.  I just found it hard to get into the swing of things this week.  Maybe it was my first full week back after vacation.  Maybe it was all the changes from the merger; new organizations, new bosses, new rules and processes.  I don’t know.  Maybe all of those things. 

I have two vocations actually. I am a technical writer by day and a poet and other writer by ni…., by whenever I feel like it.  Which, truthfully, hasn’t been that often.  But I did manage to send some poems out to a magazine.  I was hoping to be published.  Hoping?  Yeah, this is the time for hope, and like that great hope of four years ago, my hope for publication went sour too.  I received a rejection letter, actually an e-mail.  Very curt, short and not so sweet, considering the outcome I had hoped. 

At any rate, this event and the events at work, caused some reflection on my part.  That reflection led to my depression.  I was going through the motions the last few days trying to cheer myself up.  I looked back at all the things I had set out to do and that I had accomplished.  I have gotten every job I wanted.  I wanted to be a writer, I became a writer.  I have a good career. 

I have also wanted to be a poet.  I really don’t understand what I do or how I do it.  I just write, my poetry, I mean.  It just comes from a spiritual place.  I try to work at it but I really don’t know much about the inner workings.  Or the technical terms of poetry.  I just write. 

So, I was talking to my wife the other day about my funk.  I mentioned that I tried to snap out of it by looking at my accomplishments.  I said I hadn’t accomplished anything that I really wanted.  (I wanted to be a famous poet and writer).  Then it occurred to me.  “I wanted to be a writer.”  I have made about $7.00 at poetry.  But as a writer (Ok, a technical writer), I have made a career.  For the last 25 years that is what I have been doing. 

I realize now, when I wished for this life, when I asked God for this, to be called a writer.  I guess I should have been more specific.  I should have asked for the ability to write a novel or stories or plays.  I guess He just found the closest place for me.  Well, then.  Thank you, God.  It seems to have worked out. 

D.