Saturday, April 14, 2012
Friday, April 13, 2012
Gonna leave this brokedown palace,
On my hands and my knees, I will roll, roll, roll.
Make myself a bed, down by the water side,
In my time, in my time, I will roll, roll, roll.
In a bed, in a bed,
By the waterside I will lay my head
And listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul.
River gonna take me, sing me sweet and sleepy
Sing me sweet and sleepy, all the way back home.
It's a far gone lullaby, sung many years ago,
Mama, mama, many worlds I've come, since I first left home.
Goin' home, goin' home,
By the waterside I will rest my bones,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul.
Fare you well, fare you well
I love you more than words can tell,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs,
To rock my soul.
-RH
Got news today that one of my personal favorite long time customers, Mr. William McCann, is enduring the last of his days and will shortly pass on from cancer. I'm not usually drawn to words over the passing of 80+ year old people, it's not that it's not sad, it's just that were all gonna go, and if you've had 80+ years to stalk the planet you've had a fair share and I would normally bid him peace and goodbye. But I'm really gonna miss Billy. A couple three times a year he's been comin' down here since before I got here, sometimes alone, sometimes with a group of his friends and customers from The Redwood Room, his drinking establishment in the fine community of Maywood, or was it Mayfield, I could never get that straight. Bill would always show up way too early in the morning, and once I got used to that I would make sure that I was here early too. He'd have a couple of cups, and we'd talk about what life had pitched at us lately. While my business, clientelle, and location generally afford me some pretty good tales, Billys' stories always had a unique personal touch, and his technique in the telling made each one vivid and real for me. Whether it was the constant issues with his bevy of female employees, the trials and tribulations of the surrounding communities, the Breakfast Club (his early morning clients), or my favorite, the time his bar was surrounded by police, in cars and helicopters, and he and his clients and he were ordered by bull horn to come out, one at a time and with their hands on their heads, into the afternoon sun, to be welcomed by local television cameras, because someone had called in a tip to the police that a person of interest was in the bar, I always looked forward to Billys' stories and his telling of them. "Boy, I'm tellin' ya' Davey...." each story would begin, and then take on it's own rhythm and meter. (The person of interest was not in the bar by the way.) Dealing with people at their highest and lowest, running a recycling center for memories bad and good, dreams realized or lost, he has developed a very healthy perspective over the years. What I will always remember was his youthful approach to most anything, he never seemed old, or grouchy, or narrow minded. It wasn't just his occupation that encouraged him to listen to what people, almost everyone, had to say, and to give it his honest consideration, it was his upbringing, his open mindedness, and his kindness I know that it sometimes got to be a load for him, and he would come down here alone, without his posse, and fish alone for 4 or 5 days, keeping to himself most of the time, except for very early in the morning. I believe that he was getting rid of the great bag of other peoples' problems, concerns, and annoyances that he collected from them as part of his job and his style. Bills' fairness has also always been impressive to me. While I find that many people of Bills' generation were implanted through upbringing and experience with prejudices against some things and some people, Bill always allowed people to earn their own reputation. If you were an asshole Bill was quick to recognize that, and if you weren't he was equally quick. He didn't care how old you were, what you looked like, what your background was, nothin'. He gave everybody a chance to be themselves, and to be thought of accordingly. I liked that about him. I STILL like that about him, and if I've messed up my tenses, past and present, it's because Bill is in both places right now. I hope that you get a chance to read this Billy, I know that you know we enjoy each other, but guys like you always have a hard time admitting how important they are to guys like me, and I want you to know that you are missed everyday, that you will be missed, always, and by many. I've left out a lot of really fine things about Bill, the loving tone in his voice whenever he talked of his wife, his boyish excitement at each new day of fishing, the way that nearly all of his customers treated him with respect, even the ones that didn't seem to have too much for themselves, and more, but that's for another time, or maybe for other people. For me, for now,
Love Ya' Babe,
David
On my hands and my knees, I will roll, roll, roll.
Make myself a bed, down by the water side,
In my time, in my time, I will roll, roll, roll.
In a bed, in a bed,
By the waterside I will lay my head
And listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul.
River gonna take me, sing me sweet and sleepy
Sing me sweet and sleepy, all the way back home.
It's a far gone lullaby, sung many years ago,
Mama, mama, many worlds I've come, since I first left home.
Goin' home, goin' home,
By the waterside I will rest my bones,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul.
Fare you well, fare you well
I love you more than words can tell,
Listen to the river sing sweet songs,
To rock my soul.
-RH
Got news today that one of my personal favorite long time customers, Mr. William McCann, is enduring the last of his days and will shortly pass on from cancer. I'm not usually drawn to words over the passing of 80+ year old people, it's not that it's not sad, it's just that were all gonna go, and if you've had 80+ years to stalk the planet you've had a fair share and I would normally bid him peace and goodbye. But I'm really gonna miss Billy. A couple three times a year he's been comin' down here since before I got here, sometimes alone, sometimes with a group of his friends and customers from The Redwood Room, his drinking establishment in the fine community of Maywood, or was it Mayfield, I could never get that straight. Bill would always show up way too early in the morning, and once I got used to that I would make sure that I was here early too. He'd have a couple of cups, and we'd talk about what life had pitched at us lately. While my business, clientelle, and location generally afford me some pretty good tales, Billys' stories always had a unique personal touch, and his technique in the telling made each one vivid and real for me. Whether it was the constant issues with his bevy of female employees, the trials and tribulations of the surrounding communities, the Breakfast Club (his early morning clients), or my favorite, the time his bar was surrounded by police, in cars and helicopters, and he and his clients and he were ordered by bull horn to come out, one at a time and with their hands on their heads, into the afternoon sun, to be welcomed by local television cameras, because someone had called in a tip to the police that a person of interest was in the bar, I always looked forward to Billys' stories and his telling of them. "Boy, I'm tellin' ya' Davey...." each story would begin, and then take on it's own rhythm and meter. (The person of interest was not in the bar by the way.) Dealing with people at their highest and lowest, running a recycling center for memories bad and good, dreams realized or lost, he has developed a very healthy perspective over the years. What I will always remember was his youthful approach to most anything, he never seemed old, or grouchy, or narrow minded. It wasn't just his occupation that encouraged him to listen to what people, almost everyone, had to say, and to give it his honest consideration, it was his upbringing, his open mindedness, and his kindness I know that it sometimes got to be a load for him, and he would come down here alone, without his posse, and fish alone for 4 or 5 days, keeping to himself most of the time, except for very early in the morning. I believe that he was getting rid of the great bag of other peoples' problems, concerns, and annoyances that he collected from them as part of his job and his style. Bills' fairness has also always been impressive to me. While I find that many people of Bills' generation were implanted through upbringing and experience with prejudices against some things and some people, Bill always allowed people to earn their own reputation. If you were an asshole Bill was quick to recognize that, and if you weren't he was equally quick. He didn't care how old you were, what you looked like, what your background was, nothin'. He gave everybody a chance to be themselves, and to be thought of accordingly. I liked that about him. I STILL like that about him, and if I've messed up my tenses, past and present, it's because Bill is in both places right now. I hope that you get a chance to read this Billy, I know that you know we enjoy each other, but guys like you always have a hard time admitting how important they are to guys like me, and I want you to know that you are missed everyday, that you will be missed, always, and by many. I've left out a lot of really fine things about Bill, the loving tone in his voice whenever he talked of his wife, his boyish excitement at each new day of fishing, the way that nearly all of his customers treated him with respect, even the ones that didn't seem to have too much for themselves, and more, but that's for another time, or maybe for other people. For me, for now,
Love Ya' Babe,
David
Monday, April 9, 2012
"Counting stars by candle light, all are dim but one is bright.
The spiral light of Venus, rising first and shining best.
On, from the northwest corner, of a brand new crescent moon.
While crickets and cicadas sing, a rare and different tune."
-R.H.
"Well Dave, here we are on a full moon, and you said that the yellowtail bite best on a full moon, and we're not doing very well on 'em", or something to that effect was mentioned by some clients late last week. Hang on there weed hopper, this isn't an equation in just one variable. They do feed best an hour either side of the high tide, and best on heavy currents, as in full moon, but hey there's a lot of acreage out there and you gots to look around. Water temps are right, full moon, go find 'em gd'it. Aha! Upon venturing northward, near the north end of Cerrallvo, voila! yellowtail. Not to say that every boat killed 'em, as all were looking in different places, but a couple came from the south point, and 1/2 dozen nice big fat ones for the guys that ventured northward. "My Captain is the best," cried the victors, and like calling a no hitter in the 6th inning, the next day they were cruelly, but fairly, rewarded by the fish gods with low boat status, while their amigos, victims of their triumphant approbrium just the day before, were now the world champions for the new day, with 7 yellowtail, a couple of nice cabrilla, and a pargo lisa or two. Not that the former champs had gotten skunked, they had 2 yellowtail, but the light of victory of the prior day was diminished.to a mere afterglow. Then the upstarts from the mountainous regions had their turn, two consecutive days of high boat. What were they doing differently? Their Captain had stopped along the way to jig up some monterey sardines, forsaking the smaller sardinia that had done so well the previous two days. These bigger baits were the ticket the last two days, capturing an even dozen nice yellowtail with cabrilla and pargo mulatto mixed in for variety. Today is the rubber match, and after a couple days of dialing in the details I'll bet that the competition will be fierce, but friendly. They'll all be winners, at least in relation to the enjoyable, but somewhat less exciting task of recording their previous days events for posterity. The water is starting to warm, with random sightings of flying fish, and one dorado on the beach mid last week. It's about time for Chris and I to venture outside for our annual early season exploration. Stay tuned, stay awake, and Go Giants!
David
The spiral light of Venus, rising first and shining best.
On, from the northwest corner, of a brand new crescent moon.
While crickets and cicadas sing, a rare and different tune."
-R.H.
"Well Dave, here we are on a full moon, and you said that the yellowtail bite best on a full moon, and we're not doing very well on 'em", or something to that effect was mentioned by some clients late last week. Hang on there weed hopper, this isn't an equation in just one variable. They do feed best an hour either side of the high tide, and best on heavy currents, as in full moon, but hey there's a lot of acreage out there and you gots to look around. Water temps are right, full moon, go find 'em gd'it. Aha! Upon venturing northward, near the north end of Cerrallvo, voila! yellowtail. Not to say that every boat killed 'em, as all were looking in different places, but a couple came from the south point, and 1/2 dozen nice big fat ones for the guys that ventured northward. "My Captain is the best," cried the victors, and like calling a no hitter in the 6th inning, the next day they were cruelly, but fairly, rewarded by the fish gods with low boat status, while their amigos, victims of their triumphant approbrium just the day before, were now the world champions for the new day, with 7 yellowtail, a couple of nice cabrilla, and a pargo lisa or two. Not that the former champs had gotten skunked, they had 2 yellowtail, but the light of victory of the prior day was diminished.to a mere afterglow. Then the upstarts from the mountainous regions had their turn, two consecutive days of high boat. What were they doing differently? Their Captain had stopped along the way to jig up some monterey sardines, forsaking the smaller sardinia that had done so well the previous two days. These bigger baits were the ticket the last two days, capturing an even dozen nice yellowtail with cabrilla and pargo mulatto mixed in for variety. Today is the rubber match, and after a couple days of dialing in the details I'll bet that the competition will be fierce, but friendly. They'll all be winners, at least in relation to the enjoyable, but somewhat less exciting task of recording their previous days events for posterity. The water is starting to warm, with random sightings of flying fish, and one dorado on the beach mid last week. It's about time for Chris and I to venture outside for our annual early season exploration. Stay tuned, stay awake, and Go Giants!
David
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