fishing for words

(and tossing out random thoughts)


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memories of candy and adventure

Not that long ago, at the counter of a local drugstore, I caught myself reminiscing about the candy of my past. Specifically Bottle Caps. But not today’s version.

The Old-School Packaging

The Old-School Packaging

Those Bottle Caps found at the five and dime of my childhood were bigger. Back then they came in a flat package, neatly lined up, each one closely resembling a bottle cap and duplicating soda flavors: root beer, cola, cherry, grape and orange. It may be a faulty memory or wishful thinking, but I seem to recall another flavor akin to Dr. Pepper.

The older version, indented on the bottom.

The older version, indented on the bottom.

While Bottle Caps stick out in my mind as a favorite candy, their taste evokes memories not just of the candy itself but also of adventure. According to biological anthropologist John S. Allen, the author of The Omnivorous Mind, food is a powerful trigger of memories. That explains why many of the collective memories of my immediate and extended family revolve around food. Our family travels on its stomach, with a standing joke that one uncle journeys from restaurant to restaurant on vacation.

Perhaps my Bottle Caps experience isn’t that unusual. It’s not the candy itself that provokes strong feelings of nostalgia, it’s the associated adventures it signifies.

Once in a while, my brother, sister and I were allowed to ride our bikes the six-tenths of a mile to that five and dime. (Some quick but unverifiable research shows it may have been Les and Don’s Market, near the corner of W. Leslie Drive and N. San Marino Ave., but I don’t recall it being a big store. Perhaps my focus on candy led to tunnel vision.)

This was a time without cell phones, when we’d carry a dime for a pay phone. Not that it was expected that we’d have to use it, and I don’t think we ever did.

It was the greatest experience—our first taste of freedom…with candy. Crossing each driveway, each cross street required a new level of responsibility and awareness. We were now accountable for our own safety. We left the familiarity of our neighborhood behind to more intimately explore bordering lands. In our minds, those six-tenths of a mile could have been one hundred miles.

The new version, flat on the bottom.

The new version, flat on the bottom.

However, Bottle Caps candy was redesigned in 2009. Each piece became smaller. The underside was flattened, diminishing its approximation of a real bottle cap. There’s a rumor that Bottle Caps stacked in paper tube packages are the original size and shape, but I have yet to confirm this.

I went on to have other adventures, but the emotions and wonderment originally associated with Bottle Caps also no longer exist in their original form.

There are no instructions for life. It progresses into a series of memories. It’s those that you choose to carry and those you leave behind that form your expectations of adventures to come.

This isn’t a lamentation. Just ask my wife; a kid-like wonderment still exists within my soul. But those embers of wonder need to be stoked.

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fishing is a system (and it has a connection to Dilbert)

At the recommendation of my brother, I picked up a copy of Scott Adams’ “How to Fail at Almost Everything and Still Win Big” about a week ago. Yes, it’s an actual book with words printed on pages. Adams is the creator of the Dilbert cartoon.

Adams BookI’d usually dismiss this type of book. Too often advice or self-improvement books reflect on an author’s early years, that period of time when one can afford to fail, eat broke food and sleep on a friend’s sofa.

One of the precepts presented early in Adams’ book is the idea of adopting “systems” as opposed to focusing on goals. The argument is that “…goals are a reach-it-and-be-done situation, whereas a system is something you do on a regular basis… Systems have no deadlines, and on any given day you probably can’t tell if they’re moving you in the right direction.”

It’d be absurd to suggest I have a fly fishing ‘style.’ I do have a system. All fishermen do, whether dunking worms, chucking hardware or casting flies.

Whatever the form of fly fishing, it’s a system that counts on a systematic approach. Tenkara requires a specific simple fly fishing system – consisting of a rod, level line (nylon, monofilament or fluorocarbon) and a fly – while a classical fly fishing system adds a reel and a tapered fly line made of PVC, vinyl, polyurethane or other similar materials.

When it comes to getting on or in the water, every fly fisher has an approach, a system. Oh, we like to claim we can adapt to changing conditions – and we can – but that adaptation is part of a system, whether entrenched in the scientific study of entomology or simply successes or failures of past fishing excursions.

Reading “How to Fail at Almost Everything and Still Win Big” got me to thinking about the evolution of my system.

In the early years of my fly fishing career, I focused on out-fishing everyone around me. My brother tends to try to quantify various aspects of life, and he observed after I took him on his first real fly fishing experience that even he, with limited skills and even less technique, was hooking about three fish to every one brought in by the bait and hardware anglers within view. Full disclosure: I took a little evil pleasure in catching and releasing enough fish to make the meat fishers almost livid, particularly when I slipped fat fish back into the water. I sort of still do.

Numbers offer an easy measurement of how much one wins. However – and there’s no pinpointing when it happened – somewhere along the line my idea of “winning” shifted to a competition between myself and the fish. A new system, if you will; one that wasn’t aimed at landing a fish. This one focused on an internal challenge: becoming a better fly fisher. Milestones – not a goals – marked by fooling a fish. Often a specific fish…that one that no one else could tempt.

Without a deadline, without a focus on an end goal, the greater reward is the experience and the milestones along the way. Here’s hoping that this season there will be more experiences and milestones.

What’s your system?


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fly fishing can make you feel older than you are

Having been indoctrinated into fly fishing at an advanced age, there’s not enough time left for me to become that ‘old timer’ who can dispense advice between cigars and streamside naps. This is fine with me; I don’t like cigars and naps only make me grumpy.

What I don’t like is this getting older business. That I even know about and have a personal acquaintance with patellar enthesopathy is unsettling. It’s bad enough that there is no quick remedy for this ‘syndrome.’ It comes and goes, sometimes interfering with my regimen of walking eight to ten thousand steps every day. The idea that it could prevent wading into my favorite streams is unacceptable, though I may not have a say in the matter.

It’s annoying more than anything, but there’s hope that I’ll soon stand in those streams in which the cool, therapeutic water was snow just days before. The fish may not miss me, but it’ll be good for my body and soul to remind them I’m still around.

Fly fishing amplifies one’s observations of the aging process. Any difficulty tying knots can be dismissed to poor lighting. But when it begins to seem that the eyes on hooks are smaller than they were last year, it’s time for bifocals. Then the noises start. While silence is golden when wading to avoid signaling your presence to the fish, each step now elicits some sort of involuntary creak. Slowly, grunts become a necessary component in bending over to tie boot laces. The short hikes to secret spots seem longer. Banks become steeper.
Fly Fishing TherapyEven with age, all is not lost when it comes to fly fishing. Wading in cool trout waters is excellent therapy for sore knees. Aches and pains fade away with one’s focus on the flies, even if that means watching an indicator (aka bobber). If it ever comes down to needing a more sedentary mode of fly fishing, I’m lucky enough to enjoy stillwater nymphing and have suitable waters not too far away.

I know a few guys who have quite a few years on me and still thoroughly enjoy fly fishing. I’ve been on three- and four-day trips with some of them. They fish every day: perhaps an hour in the morning and another hour or two in the evening. In between they tell stories, slap together a sandwich, drink beer, chew on a cigar and maybe take a nap.

These guys make becoming an older fly fisher seem not so bad.


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factory tour/flashback to childhood

Years ago in cities and towns far and wide Dad had a knack for finding a factory tour, usually free and with goodies. Often edible goodies. It was an inexpensive activity to keep us kids busy, though in the years after my siblings and I left home, it was clear that he himself enjoyed these tours. Nearly every vacation since, dad has dragged mom on tours of factories across the country.

SafetyGlassesGrowing up we visited the Martinelli’s* operation in Watsonville, Calif.; the Blue Diamond Growers* plant in Sacramento; the Graber Olives packing operation in Ontario, Calif.; and the Boeing factory in Everett, Wash., to list just a few. Dad’s predilection became a tradition with me. A few of the tours my kids experienced included the Jelly Belly, Marin French Cheese, Anheuser-Busch, Tillamook and Liberty Orchards (Aplets and Cotlets) factories as well as local glass blowing studios. Now empty nesters, Karen and I have been on more than a few tours ourselves, including a recent visit to the Franz Bakery in Portland, Ore., as well as breweries and distilleries, like local favorite Anchor Brewing and the more distant Sierra Nevada Brewing. I still want to visit the Its-It factory and the Golden Gate Fortune Cookie and Boudin bakeries (San Francisco sourdough!).

It’s that penchant for factory tours that had us on nearby Mare Island during a bright and cool Saturday last February. During the years since naval operations ceased at Mare Island and its decommissioning on April 1, 1996, the city of Vallejo has tried to lure new business to the multitude of buildings on the island. Progress, albeit slow, has been made. Last year there were 105 businesses in operation on Mare Island, filling more than 3.6 million square feet of space and employing 2,400 people.

These businesses, popping up between decaying warehouses and office buildings, include a manufacturer of saw chain maintenance tools, a diving and salvage company, a label design and packaging service, a drawer maker, a dry dock and ship repair facility and a marine contractor. More recent additions include Mare Island Brewery and winemaker Vino Godfather. Other small business and federal agencies occupy many buildings. Mare Island was also home to BattleBots for its sixth season.

The Blu Homes Factory

The Blu Homes Factory

We were on the island to visit of the more prominent consumer businesses, Blu Homes. The underlying concept behind Blu Homes is to build homes in half the time of the traditional on-site method, relying on modular design while incorporating technology, energy efficiency and eco-friendly materials. Various Blu Homes models have been sent (via big rig) to over 30 states. The popularity of these homes has outstripped manufacturing capacity, forcing Blu Homes to restrict production during the next 18 months to California clients.

The factory is tucked into a former abandoned machine shop. Our tour followed the amazingly compact production line, passing raw materials area and assembly jigs to the final buildout area, where cabinets, appliances and sinks are installed – all high-quality with options for upgrades. Using steel-frame construction, with walls and floors attached by hinges, each module can be then folded up for shipment. After slapping on some industrial shrink wrap, a module is sent to the home site, set in place by crane and unfolded by the on-site crew.

A basic home takes less than a day to assemble on site but it takes three to six weeks of work before it can be occupied. Various floor plans are created by fitting modules together, with models priced from $150,000 on up.

The Blu Homes model home on Mare Island, quite nice.

The Blu Homes model home on Mare Island, quite nice.

Even though manufactured away from the home site, these are not mobile homes. The only time they are really mobile is during delivery. We were amazed at the quality of construction and the materials that go into these homes. Karen and I were like kids in a candy store filled with delights we couldn’t afford.

Since our tour I’ve been searching for a suitable site. I’d opt for the Cabana model; a comfortable tiny home just big enough to kick back after fishing.

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*Sadly, tours are no longer offered.