I have a phobia about fishing. Maybe phobia isn’t the right word, but I find fishing boring and a waste of time. Growing up, I was surrounded by fishermen and women. It was a way of life and, obviously, a sport my folks loved. It wasn’t that I didn’t try my hand at fishing; I actually baited hooks, reeled in a few keepers, cleaned, cooked, and ate them. Problem was, I never had the patience to cast my line and wait for a fish to bite. As a youngster I would often lay my rod down and walk off, much to the consternation of my Mom and Aunt, who incidentally both loved to fish.
I blame fishing for causing me to become easily bored. It actually ruined me for a lot of things like playing cards, watching baseball – well that’s another story – or watching golf on TV (sort of like watching grass grow). My wife says it wasn’t fishing that caused this but a slight case of ADD that has never officially been diagnosed. She says I can’t stay focused and am often like a train veering off the track. Funny, I never noticed. But if it’s true, it’s because of fishing.
I’m now retired, but unlike a lot of fellows my age, I do not fish and probably won’t. It isn’t that I didn’t try. I went to fly fishing school with a couple of buddies and almost bought the expensive rod and reel, the boots, and that neat vest. At the last minute I became lucid and backed out, blaming boredom. My buddies had a different take on our fishing adventure. They said it was from getting hung up in trees and bushes. Actually, any plant life could snag my cast. I told them it wasn’t my casting but the fish gods casting on me a spell of impatience. It’s as good a way as any to explain a mild case of ADD.