Fishing lessons

Let me tell ya about my dad. A man that I find myself learning more about and understanding more as time goes by. Things that he said or done over the years seem to take on different meanings than they did years ago. I guess they would still hold the same meaning to him, but to me I see things differently than when I was growing up. I would like to tell my dad " I understand', and in your own way you did teach me things that would help me get thru this world. But most of all, I miss you, and love you". I send these words by prayer, for my dad died 17 years ago. And I still find things in life that I can relate to something my dad said or did.
Now I won't sugarcoat things here, we had a hard life. We were poor folks. My dad wasn't the best provider there was and he lived life the only way he knew how and you just held on till you could get your own footing in life. When I said " I understand" to my dad it was that I now can look back and
see where he came from and appreciate what he went thru growing up that made him the person he was. My life , however poor it was, was a cakewalk compared to his.
My dad could find pleasure in the simpelist things in life. Whether it was his chickens, piddling with his car, or sitting on a river bank with his cane pole watching a floater for hours on end. And we as kids did the same. Our favorite things were fishing and swimming the creeks and rivers, and in general just running the hills. We always seemed to have bicycles around, never a store bought one but something we peiced together from scavanged parts. I guess somethings never change huh? (shovels) . As kids we dreamed of the fancy things in life and we'd sit around and talk of all the stuff we'd like to have. Now that I have "things" I find myself enjoying the simple things we had as kids. If you read any of my stories of my road trips, or just day rides, you'll notice that sooner or later I always at sometime, somewhere, find myself sitting on the bank of a creek or river. My best memories are of sitting on a creek bank listening to the water slap the rocks and watching a floater for hours on end, just like my dad.
One thing my dad said one time was " damn'it boy don't cry about what you don't have...be glad for what you got". This was said after he got tired of me,( a ten year old boy) bitching and complaining about the junk Zebco 101 rod & reel I had. I should have been glad, because I had been fishing with a cane pole befor that. I got two "lessons" that day. One, my dad was a better angler than me. And two, it's the simple things in life that can give you the most enjoyment sometimes. Number One, I learned that day. Number Two, took years befor I would appreciate it.
Here's that day.
I was ten years old and me and my dad was down by the river one day, actually it was a side creek that ran into the Tennesse river. I was fishing and my dad was walking the bank in search of discard and lost fishing tackle, something he always did, something I'd do later in life. We only had this one rod & reel that I was using, dad had left his cane pole back at the house, for we hadn't planned on stopping at the creek. I on the other hand liked to keep mine in the car just in case. Well after getting my line all tangled-up, and frustrated as only a ten year old can get, I was ready to blame it all on the cheap ass Zebco 101 that I had. I thought if I only had one of those "nice new" rod & reels I could catch all the fish I wanted.
As I sat there rassln' with this ball of line, with a sharpe ass hook in it, I saw this fellow walking down the path to the creek on the other side. The first thing I notice was he had two rods & reels and a big fancy tackle box. I stopped my cussing and swearing and sat there with my hands tangled in fishing line and watched this guy open up what to me looked like the whole damn bait store display of fishing lures and the such. It was beautiful with all the colors and shinny lures. The lure he decided to use was nothing like what I have ever saw, but, I was damn sure he was going to catch MY fish with it. He whipped it one way then let it fly the other and it hit perfectly under some overhanging limbs, right where I knew all the fish where. Damn him. Damn him, but I was in awe. He had all the "new" tackle and he looked like a pro, not that I knew what a pro looked like , but they had to look like him.
I was still sitting there, with my hands full of line, watching this guy cast up and down the bank thinking any minute now he's going to pull that big lunker out of there, when my dad returns from his scavange hunt down the bank. My dad says " I'll show ya how to fish boy", holding his hands out with all kinds of hooks, line, floaters and the such. Now I'm thinking, he has no pole...how...?
Dad pulls out his pocket knife and walks over to this tree and starts cutting off this small limb, bout the size of a good cane pole. Oh shit, he is about to embaress me to death in front of Roland Martin over there. So he ties the line on the tip of his (tree limb) pole, then brings the line down the length of the pole to his left hand, from there out to his out reached right hand, and down toward the ground bout two feet. There he had rigged up his "jaybird" rig. (My dads' name was James, Jay. The guys he worked with called him Jaybird.). Thus his "Jaybird" rig.
Well after worming up the hook he walked over to the edge of the water, and with a twirl of his right hand and streched out left arm he cast out his dasturdly rig. Now when dad had his fishing swirve on you didn't open your mouth, "ya scare the damn fish off". Dads' floater wasn't in the water I bet one damn minute befor it started to bob around, something was hitting on it. I watched as my ol man started to crouch like a cat getting ready to pounce. The floater took a dive and dissapeared outa site. With a upward jerk of his pole he set the hook and then it was all about watching the line zip back an forth thru the water from one side to the other. I think dad let it run longer than he had to, the ol shit was showing off. He finaly lifted the pole high in the air in order to get the fish outa the water. Wasn't a hugh fish, just a large handsize Bream. But it was the most beautiful fish i think i have ever saw. Or it could have been..... watching the best damn angler I ever saw. My dad.
I looked over at the guy on the other side of the creek to see if he saw my dad land that big lunker and he was gone. I hadn't notice when he left, I was to caught up in watching my dad. The guy either didn't want to be showed-up by an old man with a tree limb and scavanged tackle, or, he didn't want to interferr with a father giving his son a lesson in fishing, or in life as it were.
I was proud of my dad that day.
"Don't cry and complain about what you don't have......be glad of what you got"
Happy Fathers Day.