#285

Last weekend in Clear Lake, Iowa, I made a great discovery about Megan: she really loves to fish. I saw signs of a budding commitment – dare I say obsession? – that I will nurture into full bloom, if it truly exists and I play my cards right. How to fully indoctrinate her? A trip to Canada, a charter on Lake Michigan, a deep-sea adventure? I must stoke the flame! Michael enjoys fishing too, but has shown a disturbing lack of fanaticism. He doesn't join me before sunrise, and he can sleep the night before, and even the morning of. I suppose making Megan an addict depends on why she loves it. She's a fan of animals, but so are most kids. She's also a fan of sports and water and buying things (bait and tackle, in this case), but again, so are most. The big reason I fish is surprise, the unknown; it's a grab bag of sorts, like Forrest Gump's 'box of chocolates,' or an unopened pack of trading cards. What's it gonna be? Every catch is fun, but some are exceptional. I don't buy lottery tickets; I fish. Meg and I caught walleye, bass, and crappie, and we know the lake has huge catfish, carp, and muskies. The lake itself is big; it's deep, spring-fed, and very generous in recent years. Meg hooked into a lunker walleye – approaching two feet – that snapped her line. Surely she noticed the heart-stopping urgency and excitement with which I scrambled for the net. I hope she was seized the same way. She chirped that it felt big and then it surfaced and proved her frighteningly correct, a monster, with eyes the size of quarters and massive fins; then it sneered, showed teeth, and released itself. I'm not exaggerating. Much. Hours of casting and waiting are worth it. I think Meg agrees. The greatest book ever written – which I finally read cover-to-cover last year – is about a similar thing: Moby Dick. Hemingway took a stab as well: Old Man and the Sea. Fishing is fun.

Piercing minnows with hooks is problematic for Meg, but she understands it's necessary for the bigger fish, which in turn are cleaned and eaten. It's a fine illustration of the food chain. We caught and kept three walleyes over the limit (14 inches). These are food, good food. Proper culling actually helps the cycle, but I haven't explained that to Megan yet. Yes, when I was her age, I rose before the sun to fish, and barely slept the night before; it was like Santa in the summer. I fished whenever the adults would let me. Michael loves to fish at Paul's in northern Minnesota (Meg hasn't joined us for that), so his 'addiction' involves different details and energies. Besides, Michael needs his sleep; he seemingly grows an inch every week which must be exhausting.