So one day my eldest son(20) asks me, “Dad can we go fishing?”.   I looked at him in shock, as I could not recall him ever asking such a thing in the past.  My experience with fishing was buying them at the local aquarium shop or frying them on the grill.  But my boy wanted to spend some time with his dad fishing.  So dang nabbit.  Fishing we were going to do!

I quickly admitted to him that I knew absolutely nothing about fishing.  Moreover, knowingly entering situations where the blind lead the blind was not exactly my idea of fun.  To give you a perspective on this excursion; one day I had the thought that my sons and I would go out and fly remote controlled airplanes.  None of us knew how to do that either.  To make a long story short that excursion ended up with a 200 dollar airplane smashed into pieces, and us having to use our gym shoes to knock it out of a tree.  It was not pretty, but it was loads of fun.

I imagined my sons and I falling into the water.  Wrapping fishing line around our neck and someone thinking that one of us had garroted the other.  As mentioned earlier I knew this was a venture of the blind leading the blind.

But hey my son wanted to go fishing, so with my youngest also in reluctant agreement I said yes.

Next followed a visit to the local Meijer where fishing rods and reels were purchased along with other assorted equipment and the required fishing license.  Ok so let me get this straight.  I need a license to fish?  This was news to me.  So if I were hungry the fishing police would what …ticket me for fishing?  Wow!  Of course I didn’t argue with the helpful attendant, but paid my fishing fee.  I got the super duper size fishing license for 28 dollars so I could catch the big ones.  Or they could make me look foolish…the jury is still out on that one.  But dang nabbit.  I had my bobbers, my lures, my rod and reel, and after being set back about 50-60 bucks.  I was ready.

Of course then I had to find out where in my area I could actually fish.  Details schmetails.  Thankfully there was a large regional park with lakes and my boys and I gathered up our stuff and set out to catch stuff.  I realized that I had no buckets so this would be a catch and release mission.  I wasn’t skinning nothing baby.  And those fishies were not stinking up my Lincoln oh heck no.

We arrived at the water park, and somehow figured out that the lure does actually does go on the end of the line.  My oldest son figured out that the sinkers wrapped around the fishing line and you squeeze them so they stay tight.  (Show off).

Our reels were ready.  The fish were prey.  I threw my line.  Yet here was where I realized that no one told me that casting your line was a skill.  So after heaving my reel waaay back behind my head and heaving it out to the lake expecting it to go a good 20 feet out, instead it plopped all of three feet in front of me.  Talk about return on investment.  Sheesh.  Well by golly I at least looked good doing it.

My boys cast their lines in and my youngest managed to make the whole thing look pretty effortless.  As his line went out about 15 feet into the water and his bobber floated on the current. (Show off)


My eldest son also seemed to grasp the nature of casting.  Me…well perhaps this gen X’er had simply played too much Xbox 360 and my wrists were permanently damaged from killing aliens in Halo.  However, I was undaunted, so I tried again.  This time I managed to get the line out about 10 feet.  Snagged something…I was excited…only to pull on my line and realize that I was now bobberless , sinkerless, and lureless.   Pulling back my reel my line got tangled around the rod.

‘And there are people that actually do this regularly?’ I thought.

My sons seemed to grasp the concept of not losing their much needed lures pretty well.  A couple was strolling along the river bank and came toward us and asked me how the fish were biting.  Now you must realize that to me this was a trick question.  But I swallowed my pride and said, I wish I knew as the three of us were novice fishermen, and this was our first time.  The man laughed and wished us a good time.

After about a half hour or so, I had managed to lose all my lures to the deep.  My fishing was officially over. And my youngest son had managed to loose many of his.  With my oldest son being the one still in contention to actually have a reel in the water.  Eventually, I think he took sorrow on the plight of his brother and I as we were now spectators in this father son experiment of fishing.  He let us know we could go as he didn’t want to be the only one fishing. (Good boy!)

We managed to pack up our gear and with determined hearts we would once again take up the rod and reel, and seek out new waters, and again be undaunted in trying this again.  (That’s another blog…stay tuned)

Overall we had fun, and a great memory that my boys and I can share.  I learned that Jesus and the disciples were some bad bruthers, to be able to fish and for Jesus to make them fishers of men.  I have a whole new respect for what he was trying to do.

I’ve picked up a new hobby, something else to enjoy with my kids, and some spiritual insight on lures and bobbers and evangelistic sinkers needed to bring others to Christ.  All in all it was a great day with my sons.

I think we’ll do it again.


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