The One That Got Away

Why is it when fellows come back from fishing it’s always the one that got away they talk about? They brag about the size of the fish and how hard they struggled to keep it on the hook. One would think they’re looking for sympathy, but how can you feel sorry for a 200 pound man who can’t wrestle a ten pound fish? Okay, I’ve never taken a fishing rod down the road to the river, so maybe I don’t understand because I haven’t been there.

Mind you, I’m not talking about deep sea fishing. I imagine that’s a totally different sport from rowing your boat to a favorite spot and waiting for the big one to bite. I’m thinking of your average angler who enjoys spending a few hours on a calm lake on a humid summer day. I imagine fishing is a great way to temporarily escape the stress of a nagging wife, ungrateful kids, and all those weekend chores. 

I have a feeling, call it intuition or just plain common sense, that while a fellow is alone in his boat he does a little more than fishing. He does some thinking, too. Perhaps he thinks about the tasty meal he’ll enjoy once he reels in the perch. He could be thinking about the Friday night poker game and the fish stories the guys will swap. Or maybe, just maybe, his thoughts turn to the gal who got away.

We’ve all been there, especially if you’re a little older. Once you’re past 60, you’ve probably been there two or three times. I’m way past 60, and I’ve watched some good catches swim in the opposite direction. I guess I just didn’t have the right bait. 

Sitcoms often portray men as shallow, heartless, non-communicative lugs. Television wives seem to bring two rings to the marriage altar. One goes around the husband’s finger, the other through his nose. I wonder when a Men’s Lib Movement will surface and gents will demand the respect and appreciation they deserve. On TV, males are humiliated in front of their children and often dismissed as a disagreeable nuisance by their wives.

If the picture I paint has even a hint of truth to it, either on television or in real life, who can blame a fellow for taking his boat and rowing as far from shore as possible. Oh, the pleasure of your own company. The delight in peace and quiet. The enchantment of what might have been. Who cares if the fishing is poor? The illusion of the one that got away is probably just that, but sometimes it takes an illusion to get us through the day.