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			 It was just one of those things. It didn’t really 
			mean Marvin Pincus had lost his mind. Consider this yourself for a 
			minute. Marvin had opened the mail that morning and in it was the 
			Fenwick glass fly rod he’d ordered. Oh, it was used, of course. But 
			there’s a feel to a Fenwick that only a man dedicated to a life of 
			using dry flies can appreciate. 
 The weather was gorgeous. The fish were biting on Lewis Creek. But 
			there was a hitch. Marvin had broken his ankle the previous week and 
			was temporarily in a wheelchair. It was his right ankle, so he 
			couldn’t drive down to the creek. And there, in his hands, was the 
			Fenwick. He put it together, attached a reel and some four-weight 
			line and set it on the couch and looked at it.
 
			 
			Marjorie was off visiting her sister, so she couldn’t help him. But 
			there’s a pull, an irresistible draw to a fly rod. He had to cast 
			it. 
 Now.
 
 It took Marvin about 20 minutes to negotiate the front steps with 
			that wheelchair and the Fenwick. Oh, he could’ve called a friend to 
			help him, but how could he possibly explain why?
 
 Finally, he negotiated the sidewalk and then the edge of the street 
			itself. There were no cars coming this early afternoon.
 
 Up came the Fenwick. A few swishes in the air told Marvin he’d done 
			the right thing in ordering the rod. So he ran out some line and 
			began casting. About halfway across the street was a large mulberry 
			leaf. He did a double haul on the line and sent the fly toward the 
			leaf. It took several tries before he hit it, but when he made that 
			cast, you could’ve sold tickets to it. His fly came to rest about 
			three feet above the leaf and then fluttered gently down onto its 
			target. Marvin’s smile said it all.
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			 Then the school bus came around 
			the corner full of kids heading home, and Marvin realized he was 
			casting a fly rod from a wheelchair onto dry pavement.
 “Hi Mr. Pincus!” yelled one of the kids. “Catch anything?”
 
 “A little slow today, Billy,” he yelled back.
 
 “Isn’t it hard to catch fish without water?” Billy yelled.
 
 “It’s okay, son,” Marvin said with a grin. “I’m using a dry fly!”
 [Text from file received from 
			Slim Randles] 
			 
			 Ol' Jimmy Dollar 
			is Slim Randles' first children's book.  The book is for kids 
			K-3rd grades and is even better when parents read it with children. 
			Ol' Jimmy Dollar makes for sweet dreams and if you have a dog 
			even better.  Available now on Amazon. 
			
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