Hook, Line, Stinker

    In our last thrilling episode, as no doubt you recall, we discussed the extremely popular fishing postcard, and the tales it told of the success of the folks who dedicated their time and effort to the sport.  Cards extolled the joys of heading out at dawn to return with quite reasonable (record-breaking) castches.

     But the postcard cartoonists were well aware that the opposite luck is just as likely.  Well, maybe more than likelyu.  Well, maybe standard.  (The only fish I ever caught had to be thrown back, being rather smaller than the little finger of the nine year-old fisherman I was.  This struck me as mighty poor sport, and though my father had spent a tidy sum of money on fishing equipment, I don’t recall using it again.)

    So the cartoonists admitted that sometimes the luck just wasn’t with you.

    Part of the problem could be having to share the waters with other, less focused individuals.

     Sometimes your own equipment gave you troubles.

     And often, it was a combination of your equipment and your own efforts.

     We have mentioned before that the sitting area of a human being was of great interest to your average postcard artist, so the number of bottoms hooked by unlucky fishermen goes far beyond what we can cover in this space.  (In fact, the number of bottoms uncovered by a lucky cast…but that’s a whole nother blog.)

     Perhaps it was best to fish with a group, so that each person could handle another sorry aspect of the piscatorial passion.

     Because sometimes it seemed that nature itself was in league with your quarry.

     Even your equipment could be working with the enemy.

     At the end of the day, of course, it was what you caught that counted, not the trials and tribulations on the way to the trophy.

     Even if sometimes the law stepped in to tell you you hadn’t done as well as you thought.

     You could still wind up with a catch that was, well, impressive.

     Then, too, perhaps what mattered to the friends to whom you were writing was not how your day went, but  how you told the story.

     Coming soon: even more perils for fishing folk

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