The 7-Eleven door burst open, bell jangling. A scrawny, one-legged, shirtless, bearded man in tattered pants clumped through on his one leg and a crutch. Eyes bulging, he shouted and waved his free arm.
From the moment a kindly catfish found its way to the end of my line and sent a tentative tap, tap up through my fishing pole to my six-year-old hands, I have been consumed by fishing.
bigBlue Airways August 15, 2021 Dear Mr. Craig, We were pleased to be your travel experience of choice on your Saturday, August 8, BigBlue flight to Orlando. We admit the flight might have been unanticipated by you when on the prior day, August 7, you were seated comfortably on flight #931 for Tampa awaiting takeoffContinue reading “Dear Mr. Craig”
I have a confession to make. The cover photo on You’ll Need a Guide, available from Amazon for a paltry amount, shows me gleefully displaying a rainbow trout to the camera. The photo leads the reader to believe that trout leap into my hands on a regular basis. Steady yourself: I do not always catchContinue reading “True Confesssions”
Decades ago, when I was in my salad years, a psychologist studied his summary report on me, looked up from his desk and said, “You should never be a watch repairman.” A watch repairman, bent over a watch case, tweezers in hand, would try to insert a tiny screw or a coil. It would dropContinue reading “Patience”