When I was 10 or 11 years old, I spent the night on a houseboat with my father and his friend Harold “Greasy” Gaskin. They were going fishing that evening and the following morning, but it was during hunting season and I got to bring Daddy’s old Remington .22 and a brand new box of bullets.
Every time there’s a huge Lottery or Powerball jackpot, people talk about what they would do with all that money if they won. Mostly it’s the same old stuff – mansions, vacation homes, yachts, expensive cars and the like.
Not me, though. My dreams are much simpler. I have enough stuff. I just want stuff that works like it’s supposed to.
I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve built up a lot of bad squirrel karma over the last 40 years or so. In fact, if the Good Lord is a lover of limb rats, I’m going to need a lawyer with me at the Pearly Gates. On the other hand, if squirrels do go to heaven, I can claim credit for a lot of them getting there a little sooner than planned.
Of all the family members I write about, my two oldest brothers, Mack and Hentz, are the ones who appear least frequently. For his part, Hentz has been noticeably tight-lipped since I started committing these stories to print. Which makes sense because his advice when I started my blog was, “Be careful that you don’t write anything now that could be admitted as evidence later.”
By Lane Stephens
Springtime in Florida. It’s a time of transition, from days spent in the woods hunting wild game to getting out on the water in search of our abundant freshwater or saltwater fish. Of course, we still have a little bit of turkey hunting to do, so that makes it an easy transition for many of us.
It’s hard to overstate the entertainment value of growing up with Gary Wayne Purvis as one of your best friends and running buddies. For one thing, GW was spring-loaded to go fishing anytime, night or day, year-round. For another, he usually had a good idea where folks were catching fish and how.
It was my Aunt Ann who first stirred my interest in wooden catfish baskets. Her father was a commercial fisherman on the Apalachicola River and his livelihood depended on them. When I was younger, she actually had one in her living room.