Frolix's Feel-Good Forum

Irish to Visit

sudz — 2005-09-09T23:10:12Z

Just to let you know, Irish (our friend who lives in Australia but who was raised in Baldwin County) is coming home for a month long visit. She is due to arrive around the 23rd of this month! Last time she came home, we had a cookout at the Battleship Park. Attending were Frolix, Viper, Sudz and several other regulars from this forum. We hope to have another get-together for our cybre friends during this visit. I'll keep you posted. Who wants to be there?

Baby Luna Update

luna — 2005-03-08T21:55:05Z

So here we are... week 19. I'm to the halfway point.. or I guess I could be past it.... full-term is considered 36-40 weeks. The squirmy worm has been wiggling for a few weeks now, but it was able to get in one good kick on Feb. 22. I remember that because it was my sister's birthday and the 25th anniversary of the “Miracle on Ice“ hockey game in the 1980 Olympics. Perhaps our little one is already a hockey fan? ;) You've already seen the ultrasound picture, I haven't had a new one. We might get one at 24 weeks. Speaking of 24 weeks, did you guys see the story about the 10 oz baby who was born at USA at 24 weeks gestation? The baby is so tiny. I sure hope the little one makes it. Anyway, I just wanted to post to give my buddies an update. I sure do miss you Viper, Sudz and Fro!!!! Luna

First Look...

luna — 2005-02-01T21:02:26Z

Since it's been well over a week since anyone has posted here, I thought I would break the silence with an update... Today my husband and I got our first look at our little baby to be. I'm 14 weeks and had the first ultrasound!!! WOW. It's amazing. We've got a perfect little profile shot in one of the pics. Baby is doing well and everything seems to be on target. Just wanted to update my online friends! :) Luna

Hey Y'all!!!

frolix — 2005-01-07T23:19:27Z

I had a dream about everybody last night...seriously! It was fragmented in the way of dreams but the pieces I remember made me homesick for y'all! It was so weird...it was like we were mixed together as our real selves and as our personas on the board AND as bikers in our story! I'm recovering from a bad cold and I guess that knock-out nighttime cold medicine I've been taking sent me on a VERY strange journey. Glad to hear that the...four of y'all (how sad) are still around though. Maybe we can have a board reunion? I miss y'all! Hugs, -frolix

Ever Notice?

sudz — 2005-01-07T03:56:44Z

Did you ever notice how people driving to or from church are always more polite than the same people are any other time of the week? Ever notice how dogs just cannot pass a car tire that isn't rolling without urinating on it? Ever notice how you can enter a room full of people, some friends, some strangers and start talking and one by one they leave until the room is empty except for you? Ever notice how people who are near someone offensive to them will try to move away without being obvious about it? Ever notice how butterflies start coughing and gagging whenever they are downwind of you? You haven't noticed any of that? Hmm. I don't hear you. Gee, I guess I'm all alone on this forum.

Happy New YEAR

pidder — 2005-01-01T04:44:49Z

Happy new year. May God bless one and all.:)

Holiday news

viper — 2004-12-15T13:55:08Z

I've been checking in ever so often and by the looks of things around here I'm not sure if anyone will see this . Even so: I hope everyone has a safe, wonderous and prosperous holiday season. It's not often that people come together in such a way as those of you I have come to know via this and other forums. You are special to me and I pray you all will be blessed in everything that comes your way. May you all receive the joy and spirit of a truely great and marvelous Christmas and New Year. Love to all , and may God bless. Viper...............< :

Christmas...

anomaly — 2004-12-30T22:44:56Z

Hoping everyone had a great christmas... I sure did. So, the obligatory post-Christmas question... What'd ya get?

Special Announcement

luna — 2004-12-02T22:19:02Z

I know things have been quiet here for a bit... so I thought I might liven things up with a little announcement of my own. :) We are expecting a little Luna in early August. I just wanted to share the news with my online friends! :)

T-Day

viper — 2004-11-24T16:09:41Z

Wanted to wish everyone a very happy and safe Thanksgiving Holiday From the snake pit Viper.................<:

Back In the Saddle Again

sudz — 2004-11-17T00:56:06Z

I realize everyone has been logging on hourly waiting for the return of Sudz to the forum. Well, your anxious wait and your infinite patience have paid off. I'm over all the stuff that has held me back and I'm ready to rumble. I held a quarterly training session for a group of our distributors from distant states on Thursday and Friday. It was most stressfull putting the class together and conducting it. But it went off without a hitch and everyone said it was the best ever. Missing several days from my desk put me way behind and I've spent the weekend and the last two days playing catchup at work. My stepdaughter (I think you know her as Fairly Dusty or something) is loving her new job. She works in the newly opened Cracker Barrell at the new shopping center at Malbis. Oh, it's Fairydust, I think. Pidder is having a very difficult time dealing with this house we are renting. After her dad passed away in it, she finds it difficult to enter his bedroom and the bathroom and just being in this house is quite depressing for her. I'm looking for a place to move to. This was to be a temporary stay anyway, just until I could find a piece of land in the forest where I can build a home to retire in with little or no mortgage. My daughter that lives in Washington County had a bad incident. Her husband plowed into a pile of wreckage in a fog last week and totaled their car. Nobody seriously injured, but now minus one very nice car. I've got to get back to the riverbank and drown some worms in search of fish. That's my form of escape from the real world and I'm having withdrawal symtoms from not having fished for too long. So that catches you up on my stellar life. What's going on with you guys? Let's get back on the forum and stay close to each other. The election is over but we'll find something to chew each other out about. We are resourseful to the max, you know.

An invitation to dance

frolix — 2004-11-11T18:28:52Z

From my e-mail: A man walks up to a woman sitting alone at a bar. Okay, so I came over here to ask you to dance, but I'm kind of concerned. I mean, we could hit it off really well, end up having a few drinks, next thing you know you're giving me your number because I'm too shy to ask for it. I finally get up the nerve to call and we take in a movie, have some dinner. I relax, you relax, we go out a few more times, get to know each other's friends, spend a lot of time together, then finally get past this sexual tension and develop this intense sex life, that is truly incredible. Decide our relationship is solid and stable, so we move in together. Then a few months later get married, I get a promotion, you get a promotion, we buy a bigger house. You really want kids, but I really want freedom, but we have a kid anyway, only to find that I am resentful, the sparks start to fade and to rekindle them we have two more lovely kids. Now I work too much to keep up with the bills, have no time for you. Now you're stressed and stop taking good care of yourself. So to get past our slow sex life and my declining self-confidence I turn to an outside affair for sexual gratification. You find out because I'm careless and a lousy liar, you throw me out (justifiably so). We have to explain to the kids why mommy and daddy are splitting up. That's just too sad. Think about the children. So, for God's sake, if you dance with me and we hit it off, let's just keep it sexual, because we both know where it's going. What do ya say?

Embarrassing Story

frolix — 2004-11-11T19:06:38Z

A close friend of mine from Memphis told this story to me. I think it's worth sharing. 'Steph' is a single woman with a job that requires her to travel two or three days out of each week. Because she has three dogs and some cats, she has a combination maid/pet sitter, 'Marge', who stays at her house when she's gone. It's one of those relationships that has worked out great for both of them for a couple of years although they hardly ever see one another. Steph told me that last week she had loaded up her stuff to take off for a couple of days and as she was driving to the airport she kept having a nagging feeling that she'd overlooked something back at the house. Mentally she went over everything that Marge would need while she was gone, went through her checklist of pet stuff, cleaning supplies, etc., and everything seemed to be in order. But still she couldn't shake the feeling that something at home was amiss. As she sat waiting for her flight it popped into her head and she almost died right there from embarrassment. Because she knew that when Marge showed up and started cleaning in the bedroom the first thing she'd do would be to strip the bed for laundry. And there under the covers she'd find Steph's vibrator which she'd forgotten to put up. Now, Steph told me in her inimitable way that if it had been just your run-of-the-mill dainty little toy it would have been one thing. But she said it was her 'industrial-size one' (hey, didn't even want to ask what that meant) and would probably cause Marge to faint dead away when she yanked back the sheets and found the machine lurking there in the darkness. The more she thought of the shock and possible consequences (evidently Marge is quite...sheltered) she knew she had to warn her. So Steph got on the phone and was relieved when Marge picked right up. Then of course she was horrified at what she had to tell her but she nevertheless came clean before Marge had begun her cleaning duties and was faced with the delicate decision about what to do with the found item. Seriously, what would YOU do? Make the bed back up with it still there? Remove it and lay it down gracefully on the bedside table, ready for the next use? Steph didn't tell me what arrangements they finally made but did say that Marge was laughing hysterically by the time they hung up so I guess she had a much better sense of humor than Steph credited her with. -frolix

TODAY!

sudz — 2004-10-31T14:44:25Z

I'm all excited. Today is Pastor's Appreciation Day at our little church in Citronelle (an annual event) and instead of a regular service we have a gospel bluegrass group coming over from Mississippi. I dearly love bluegrass, especially gospel bluegrass, music. Listening to it takes me mentally to the Great Smokey Mountains from whence it originated. If I really concentrate, it takes me to Scottland and Ireland where its roots are, and mine. Different people use different things to draw them close to God. For me, it's music.

Vote On-Line!!!

frolix — 2004-10-26T21:25:46Z

'http://wearabledissent.com/101/floridavote.html'>http://wearabledissent.com/101/floridavote.html

"Politics"

frolix — 2004-10-24T14:07:40Z

poli = many tics = blood-sucking insects -frolix (from e-mail)

Sled dogs ...

viper — 2004-10-22T18:35:28Z

A friend sent this to me this afternoon and I “ HAD “ to share it with you all... Hope it lightens your afternoon and weekend ! It's long but every bit worth reading! Viper.........< : High Ride on A Port-A-Potty (With Shaggy Dogs) The author is not known. Me and the girls (dogs) my packhiking sammies and my min-pin, who could be the first packhiking min-pin ever) have seen some incredible things when we go packhiking. The story is somewhat graphic in nature, so I've left a lot of that kind of stuff out. Use your own imagination. We were hoofing it through the Cleveland metro parks with about two miles left on our ten mile hike, and we came up to a picnic pavilion area. Off to the left were several portable toilets, Port-A Potties, and one was being used in a very unusual fashion. There was some sort of training cart parked next to the porta potty, with four Siberian husky-malamute looking dogs in harnesses, all hooked to one gang line (I think that is what it is called). The gang line was probably 20 feet long, and went directly into the door of the porta potty. The dogs were not hooked to the training cart at all, so it appeared they were out on a port o' let sled riding mission. I can only assume there was no way to anchor the cart and dogs while the driver was taking care of business, so she got the brilliant idea to just take the gang line into the Porta potty and hold on to the dogs while she accomplished her goal. You are probably thinking the exact same thoughts I was when I saw this little set up and recipe for disaster. And of course this story wouldn't really be worth typing if it ended with the woman coming out and driving off with her dogs into the sunset. I am fishing for my digital camera to take a picture of the Porta potty-pulling team when my dogs yank their leashes, almost toppling me over. A squirrel has decided to stop nearby, pick up a nut and chow it while my three dogs watch. So far the four sled dogs haven't seen the squirrel, but it is only a matter of time, as my dogs are doing the 'If I wasn't on this leash I would kick that squirrel's a##' dance. Sure enough, the potty pullers' heads all snap to the direction of the squirrel, and they all appear to get the same idea as my three straining at their leashes. My dogs see those dogs spot the squirrel, and some sort of dog tribal hunting nonverbal communication thing happens, as every one of the seven dogs on either end of the field realizes that its pretty much a race to see which of the two groups can get to the squirrel faster. My dogs redouble their pulling efforts, and the four dog sled team reacted as one, and lunged full steam for the squirrel. The porta potty sort of spins about 30 degrees and rocks like the dickens. Luckily, it doesn't tip over, but kind of rocks back and forth a time or two and then rights itself. Well, that is just unacceptable to the sled team, and they give another huge yank. The Porta potty spins yet again, and from inside some sort of human screech occurs. The screech seemed to slow the sled dogs down and they settled into a nervous stand. At this point the squirrel decided the dogs weren't going to get him so he started doing some kind of 'na,na,na can't get me' dance, infuriating the porta potty pullers. If you ever wondered why dog sleds are built long and low to the ground, as opposed to small and tall, like, say --- the shape of a porta potty, you need no longer wonder if this is a design flaw. Anyhow, the pulling and barking started up again. The porta potty did its best to stay standing, rocking heavily back and forth. The dogs, sensing victory, forgot completely about the squirrel, and started timing their pulls with the rocking, and of course triumphantly gave one last tug and yanked the Porta potty over. For some reason, they just stopped pulling after the port potty settled on the ground. (I'm not sure what happened to the squirrel at this point, although if he was anything like that insurance commercial where the two squirrels make the car wreck and high five each other, then my guess is he ran off into the woods to get his friends so he could show them what he'd accomplished.) From the porta potty came a series of cuss words unrepeatable in this story, so I figured I'd better see if I could help. The porta potty unfortunately had landed face down, meaning the door was now the bottom. I tied my dogs to a tree, and ventured toward the port o let. I asked if the occupant was OK. She said yes, in a lot more colorful and verbal way than just yes, but for the purposes of this story we'll just say she said yes. The porta potty hadn't fared as well. You could tell it was hurt because there was a lot of blue fluid leaking from it. I told the woman that I would have to roll the porta potty on its side to get the door open and she should find something to hang on to. Well a couple good shoves later, the thing rolled 90 degrees and the door was exposed. The door opened and out crawled a blue mama smurf, covered with the blue blood of the dying porta potty. Her dogs came running and decided she needed a bath. About this point she realized that step 10 in the bathroom process entitled 'put your pants back on' had been skipped, so she disappeared back into the porta potty. Well, she was in absolutely no mood to talk about her ride on the wild side, which I didn't blame her, so she got the short version of what had happened outside and I spared her the indignity of having to recite what happened from inside. I helped her hook her dogs back up to the cart-looking thing, and off she went, glowing blue as she went drove down the path and back into the woods. I can't imagine what all the other visitors thought as they walked serenely through the park and were passed by a pissed off blue smurf and her merry band of blue-tongued dogs.

Late Night Opinions on the Candidates (Equally Partisan)

frolix — 2004-10-20T18:08:41Z

'John Kerry announced a fool-proof plan to wipe out the $500 billion deficit. John Kerry has a plan, he's going to put it on his wife's Gold Card.' —Craig Kilborn 'John Kerry reportedly flew in his private hairdresser before his 'Meet the Press' interview for a total cost of $1,000. That's $1,000 for a haircut, which sounds like a lot, but have you seen the size of Kerry's head?' —Jay Leno 'John Kerry says the 'W' in George W. Bush stands for 'Wrong.' But he still can't explain what John Kerry stands for.' —David Letterman 'Please explain to me why John Kerry sounds more dickish telling the truth than Bush sounds when he's lying. How is that possible?' —Jon Stewart 'In his speech last night, John Kerry said this was the beginning of the end of the Bush administration. I agree. Sure, it may take another five years, but this is it.' —Jay Leno

'President Bush is going to establish elections there in Iraq. He's going to rebuild the infrastructure. He's going to create jobs. He said if it works there, he'll try it here.' —David Letterman 'A Newsweek poll said if the election were held today, John Kerry would beat Bush 49 percent to 46 percent. And today, President Bush called Newsweek magazine a threat to world peace.' —Jay Leno 'President Bush announced he has a five-point strategy for getting out of Iraq. Points six through 10 will be handled by the Kerry administration.' —David Letterman 'President Bush's campaign is now attacking John Kerry for throwing away some of his medals to protest the Vietnam War. Bush did not have any medals to throw away, but in his defense he did have all his services records thrown out.' —Jay Leno 'Is it me or is Bush going everywhere Kerry goes? So far in the past week, President Bush has followed John Kerry to Davenport, Iowa; New Mexico; Las Vegas; Los Angeles; and he follows him to Portland, Oregon. The only place he never followed John Kerry was Vietnam.' —Jay Leno 'One guy who's excited about the handover is President George Bush. He's thrilled about turning over power back to Iraq. You know why? Because he's thinking about invading them again.' —David Letterman 'President Bush said that the people who are attacking our forces in Iraq are getting more and more desperate because we're making so much progress. So just remember, the worse it gets, the better it is.' —Jay Leno 'President Bush is asking Congress for $80 billion dollars to re-build Iraq. And when you make out that check, remember there are two L's in Halliburton.' —David Letterman 'The Bush Administration said there will be a delay in restoring a newly elected democratic government in Iraq. However, they said the delay will not be as long as the one we have had in this country.' —Jay Leno 'President Bush has said that he did not need approval from the UN to wage war, and I'm thinking, well, hell, he didn't need the approval of the American voters to become president, either.' —David Letterman 'Campaigning in Iowa President Bush vowed he will not raise taxes in the next four years. He said I believe it is hard, very difficult to raise taxes when you are not president.' —Craig Kilborn

Vacation!

frolix — 2004-10-11T19:50:17Z

I'm leaving on Thursday to head to Memphis. The only difference between Merritt and me is I'm flying and she took the bus; I'm not leaving because I was raped and my ex-boyfriend is fixin' to blab about a previous murder we were involved in; nor am I a sex-crazed druggie (at least not any more). Other than that, we're exactly alike.

Since I haven't flown anywhere post-911 I'm both apprehensive and excited. Will they make me take off my sneakers trying to find a shoe-bomb? Will they confiscate my metal nail file? Will that gun-shaped metal belt buckle I used to always pack in my suitcase to scare them at x-ray be met this time with good humor or billy-clubs and handcuffs? We'll see.

Everyone, please don't don't overwhelm the forum with hundreds of posts while I'm gone just to throw me into a tizzy when I return. I know y'all's impulse will be to do just that but a little restraint would still be appreciated.

Ciao!

-frolix

The Fishing Trip From Hell

sudz — 2004-10-19T05:45:05Z

Fishing Trip From Hell Finally we had found a place to fish that suited our needs. Pidder won't get in a boat, so we have to fish with poles from a bank or a pier. We are taking care of a rag tag bunch of misfits and I'm the only one able to work and earn money, so we don't want to buy fishing permits for the entire crowd. In Alabama, if you fish in the county of your residence and if you don't use a rod and reel, you are not required to buy a permit. So we fish with cane poles and those retractible poles called Crappie Grabbers and we fish in Baldwin County. Problem solved? Well not really. Most of the places where you catch nice sized Bream, Crappie, White Perch and Catfish are also places where you have to crawl, tear, rip and struggle through dense undergrowth to reach the stream. You fight spiders, snakes and Alligators for a spot where the fish are. Then you have overhanging trees to snag your hook and line if you get a bite and the fish gets off. Your line slingshots up into a limb and wraps itself around a tree and ties itself into a parchute knot. All that would be okay if it was just me and Pidder. We like to rough it. But we couldn't go fishing without taking her 78 year old father and the terminally ill Charlie along and they just can't handle the jungles. Sometimes we even have one or two of our 3 year old grandkids along. Then we discovered D'Olive Creek Dam. Nestled in the heart of Daphne, just behind the shopping center where Gayfers is, there flows a nice sized creek that was damed years ago. In a pickup or SUV, you can ease over the curb and drive right onto the dam. On the North side, the 'creek' resembles a river, being about 100 yards wide. A spillway allows water to drop into the square opening and jet out from the South side into a small basin and continue on toward I-10 as an overgrown creek. There is a 12' Alligator that hangs out in that area and he shows no fear of humans. Other than that, it is a good place to fish. Charlie and I like to take a position on each side of the spillway and fish in the basin where the swift water comes through the dam. Lots of fish hang out there, waiting for food to come washing through the pipe. We had it made. Most of our trips were very fruitful and we took home a nice stringer of Bream. Fishing is addictive. When you do well at it, you want to do it all the time. It's like making money. The more you make the more you want to make. I remember one weekend we went to Daphne twice on Saturday and once on Sunday and brought home well over a hundred nice fish. Were we happy? Sure. We we satisfied? No! We wanted to go back on Monday evening after work. You see, greed starts to creep into your skin and take over your brain. Charlie had heard that if you had a way of rigging a light over the water, you can fish at night and catch a lot of White Perch. He said they are attracted to the light. We knew the place had White Perch because we had caught a few nice ones. Most people like the taste of White Perch better than Shell Crackers or Goggle Eyes or even Blue Gills. So we began to imagine ways of rigging a light out over the water. It wasn't enough to spend every spare daylight hour fishing. No indeed. We had to find a way of fishing at night as well. I mentioned this idea at work. I work at a place where we publish a fishing and hunting magazine and the owner, my younger brother, and the Executive Editor are both accomplished fishermen. When I asked them about the light and if it actually brought in the Perch, they both not only told me it works but also told me there was a light on the market for just that purpose. They said it is a floating, submersible green florecent light that is powered by a car battery. 'Wonderful,' I said, 'And where can I lay my hands on such a great invention?' Well, it turns out they both own one. The Editor owns two. I was quick to borrow my brother's and raced home to tell Charlie our problem was solved. I picked up the light from my brother on Friday evening and showed it to Charlie. We planned our night fishing for Saturday night. Saturday afternoon I had to drive to Washington County to attend the birthday party celebrating the first birthday of my granddaughter. Drat the luck. That means we can't get to Daphne before about 5:30 or 6 P.M. and would have to rush to get set up before darkness set in. Why the heck is a little brat's birthday so important anyway? All you do is eat cake and ice cream and pretend you like the kids other grandparents. In order to expedite matters, I had gone to Wal-Mart on Friday night and purchased some badly needed supplies. I bought Charlie and Pop new Crappie Grabbers, 16' long, because both had old rotten cane poles. Charlie loves treble hooks, so I got him a supply of them. That's a three way hook that sticks in you from three directions. Those and a number of other items had us ready to rumble with the Perch population except for one thing. Charlie said Perch like live minnows or live shrimp. I bought a minnow bucket but no minnows. They would not have lived from Friday night to Saturday night. I told myself I would pick those up on Saturday afternoon. I remember driving back along Highway 43 from the birthday party and noticing several places that advertised having live bait, but I didn't stop. I don't know why. By the time I got home, picked up Charlie and Pop (Pidder was under the weather and declined to go) and got to Daphne, there was no place still open to sell us live bait. Also, darkness was fast approaching. We decided Perch like worms and we had plenty of those. Off we went, ignoring all the omen the omnipotent One had given us. We had decided the best spot to float the light was on the lower side of the basin because the current wasn't so strong and our light would not be difficult to make stationary. I drove across the dam, up the far bank, hung a right, straddled some menacing washout holes and parked the pickup right at the bank among the trees. We took the battery and set it carefully on the rocks at water's edge. We took two long lengths of PVC pipe and duct taped them to the light and pushed it out into the water about 14 feet and spread the shore ends of them apart. We anchored the shore ends of the pipes with concrete blocks I had brought with us. By then it was dark and we finished our set up by the light of our flashlights. We clamped the wires to the battery posts and Wah Lah the green bulb lit up and the basin took on the glow of somebody's back yard pool. We had been told to wait about 30 minutes and start catching fish. While waiting, we decided we might catch a few really small Bream to use for bait, either live or as cut bait. So we sat on the rocks and began to fish with number six hooks and worms we had torn into three pieces. Charlie with his fine new Crappie Grabber and me with my old reliable cane pole were being watched with some amusement by Pop. He always waited until he saw if the fish were biting before he joins in. I snatched tiny Bream after tiny Bream from the water and dropped them into the live bucket. Charlie wasn't even getting a nibble. Sometimes it's just that way. Two people can fish within inches and one gets all the action. When I had about a dozen small Bream in the bucket, Charlie decided he wanted a cigarette. He laid his pole down and reached for his lighter. Meanwhile, there was this one small Bream who had been watching Charlie from just below the surface. That little rascal waited until Charlie took his hand off the pole and he raced to the hook and off he swam. Actually, I think it was a she. A guy fish wouldn't treat another guy that dirty. The pole, being new and slick, slid easily over the wet rocks. Charlie sprang forward and tried to grab the butt end, actually touching it with his fingertips before it floated away. You know, Charlie is a nice guy and a gentle man, but his language could use a bit of cleaning up. I'd never say those things about one of God's little creatures. Anyway, he borrowed my pole and tried to reach out and drag his back in. The little fish saw him and eased a bit farther out. Soon he was out of reach and moving toward the concrete incline that formed the bottom of the dam. Charlie borrowed Pop's Crappie Grabber and walked out of the woods and around to the side of the dam. He put a treble hook and a larger lead on the line and began casting toward the floating pole. Even with three hooks, the treble hook couldn't grab hold of the slick new pole and it moved about steadily, taunting him at each turn, sling and pull. Not only that, but the hook found a large number of underwater logs, roots and shopping carts. Each time he hung up and broke the hook off, he would sit down and tie on a new hook and try again. The little fish would tow the pole in close while he was occupied with the hook replacement and swim away again when Charlie was ready to cast again. Meanwhile, Pop and I are just across the basin watching and trying not to chuckle loud enough for Charlie to hear. About 10 P.M. I decided I would lend Charlie a hand. I wasn't catching anything like a White Perch anyway. So I told Pop to stay put and I would walk around the trees and join Charlie. By the time I got to him, Charlie was getting a bit testy. When I told him he wasn't using the right knot and suggested he let me tie the hook on, he reminded me he had vastly more experience fishing than I had. I told him that may be true but my knots don't come loose. When I tie one on the line breaks before the knot comes loose. Just then he finished his tie and slung the pole back to cast. I stepped swiftly sideways to avoid getting snagged by his hook. I forgot about the drain holes that litter the concrete incline and stepped into one of them. My ankle turned and the concrete came up and hit me really hard. The back of my hand was relieved of some of its skin and my elbow hurt like hell but I managed to get up and cover my embarrassment with a few choice words. Okay, I can talk about concrete. That's not a creation of God. Actually, I think I fractured a bone in my hand. Today, two days after the fall, it is swollen and hurts to type this. As we tried time after time to snag the twelve dollar pole, we noticed a Daphne Police car drive across the dam. They shined their spotlight down at us, over at Pop, down at the green glowing light, drove up the hill, turned around and left. Around 11 P.M. I told Charlie to give it up. The pole wasn't worth the trouble. He agreed and we went back around to the truck to pack it in. Pop had gone to sleep in the truck. The tide had begun coming in and the battery and the ends of the PVC pipes were under a few inches of water. I had to wade ankle deep in water to get them. My cold wet socks did not make the drive home all that enjoyable. But we got the truck loaded and prepared to leave. I directed Charlie to get behind the truck with a flashlight and direct me as I backed out of the dense woods. He did, but then he stopped me to inform me my tail lights don't work. The brake lights and blinkers worked but the tail lights and backup lights were dead. 'Drat!' I thought. 'I'll have to drive all the way to Stapleton with no tail lights. I'll have to keep my emergency flashers on.' I tested them. They must be on the same fuse as the tail lights and backup lights. 'Oh well,' I said, 'I'll keep my foot on the brake very lightly and the cars behind me will not know it is not my tail lights they are looking at.' Charlie warned me that I wouldn't be able to press the brake and change gears at the same time and the cops will surely pull us over. I admit it does take some fancy footwork to work a five forward speed floor shift truck while applying light pressure to the brake at the same time. It isn't pretty but it can be done. Charlie stood behind me and expected me to somehow read his mind about where to turn. He never called out 'Left' or 'Right.' He just stood there. When my front wheels fell into a deep washout and I couldn't go forward or backward, I asked him 'Charlie, are you sure your last name isn't Chaplin? We arn't living in a silent movie, you know.' He didn't see the humor in that. Lucky for us, I had a shovel on the truck and we managed to dig out the lower end of the washout and free the truck. Finally, we eased up the hill, turned left and crossed the dam. Up the other side we went and eased over the curb into the paved parking lot of the shopping center. All of a sudden, flashing blue lights were everywhere. Cop cars surrounded us. I had visions of being thrown face down on the pavement with a knee in my back and my arms behind me as they put on the braclets. I guess I've seen too many 'Bad Boys, Bad Boys' shows on Saturday nights. I got to get out more. I managed to subdue the panic enough to keep a foot on the brake as I stopped. I turned off the headlights before removing my foot. It worked. The officer approaced the truck, noticed that we were three old farts with fishing poles on the back and they calmed down. He said, 'Now that I see the fishing gear, it's obvious what you were up to, but when we saw your headlights down in the woods we thought you were kids, up to no good.' I told him we usually fish there in the daylight but that we foolishly tried the floating light idea. He wanted to know if we had done any good and I told him about losing the pole and spending most of the evening trying to recover it. He warned us there is a 12 foot Alligator that lives there. I told him we had seen it several times and that's why Charlie didn't swim out after the lost pole. Not once did he ask to see my drivers permit, which expired several months ago and he didn't notice the dark tail lights either. After a few minutes of conversation, they dismissed us. Now I had the challenge of taking off without them noticing the lack of tail lights. Again the resorcefull redneck in me emerged. The parking lot is well lit. I could 'forget' to turn on my headlights until I was at least in second gear. By the time I'm ready for third gear I'll be around the corner of the building and out of sight of the gaggle of cops behind me. Anyway, they are busy discussing where their next doughnut is coming from. Again, the plan came together. I got into second gear and touched the brake at the precise moment that I turned on the headlights. Once we were out onto the interstate I asked Charlie 'Where did you put that paper?' 'What paper is that?' he asked. I said, 'The paper where we list the things we ain't never gonna do again.' I hope you enjoyed this true story. I felt compelled to write it tonight because this morning Pop died of heart failure, and this is just one of the memories I can carry with me of nine years of experiences I have had with Pop. This memory was made on this past Saturday night and Pop died just two days later, this morning. Perhaps I'll tell you some of the other stories, like when Pop burned my shop to the ground by starting a lawn mower inside it. But for now, I'll pack it in.