"But it does make sense," said Doc. "I personally
think catch-and-release fishing is a good thing. Hey, how many fish
can a guy eat, anyway? This way, we have all the fun of catching
them, and then we turn them loose and catch 'em again later, if
they're stupid enough to fall for the same bait."
We sucked down
some more coffee and got refilled. Doc put his hand over his cup
when Loretta came by. He's trying to cut back on the caffeine. He's
not a kid anymore, of course.
"Catch-and-release fishing," said Dud, in his most pontifical
voice, "is here to stay. It is the future. It guarantees us that we
will always have a good supply of fish. I don't mind crimping the
barbs on my hooks at all."
He made an arm gesture not unlike those made by Hitler when
stirring up the masses.
"From this day forth," Dud said, "the world will see that
catch-and-release will bring forth hundreds of fish, thousands of
fish, untold millions upon millions of fish, where before there was
simply (his voice quieted right here) a few. A vagrant few. A piddly
selection of piscatorial beasts gracing our streams and ponds."
[to top of second
Dud was in rare form for just three cups of coffee here at the
Mule Barn coffee shop.
"Yea, verily," he said, waving his spoon, "just take Lewis Creek,
that last bastion of the monster of the deep ... the Lunker. With
catch-and-release, he can get married and have pups and replenish
his part of the earth. We'll be overrun with lunkers."
"But it's still not the same," said Steve, in his cowboy manner.
"I went out and hooked a big one and took its picture and turned it
loose, but it wasn't the same as being able to weigh it and measure
"How big was it?" asked Doc.
"Hard to say, Doc," Steve said, "but the picture weighed 6 1/2
[Text from file received from Slim Randles]
Farm-direct, delicious California navel and Valencia oranges.