I think it only fair to relate to you a story about my best friend, we’ll call him Putz. I feel it is necessary to include him early on due to the fact that he is a large part of all of my fishing stories from the age of about 17 on. Also, I have informed him of my intention to write this blog and he requested the ability to counter my memories with his own. Keep in mind, however, that Putz is a great deal older than me and has a tendency to suffer from memory loss; thus I would recommend caution, in that the stories that he might post on this blog may contain great inconsistencies and fabrications; whereas, information contained in my writings are generally factual with perhaps a modicum of artistic liberty.

     As I mentioned before, Putz is considerably older than I am. Well perhaps not in a chronological sense (it is about three years difference), but in a physical sense he is simply falling apart. I, however, still look the same as I did in high school; maybe even better. Unfortunately the added years of his life have done nothing to enhance his wisdom. I, on the other hand, am fraught with great wisdom. Anyway, Putz and I were not friends in high school. He was a Senior when I was a Sophomore. He was a wanna-be athlete (basketball, track), I was a star football player . I had grown up as an outdoors-man; he was as close to being a pure city boy as someone raised in Bishop could possibly be. In fact I still remember when he and another of his friends decided that they would impress the girls and began carrying briefcases to school. Mind you, this was Bishop California during the Disco era. Can you say DWEEB? Everyone else did.

     Needless to say, after Putz realized what a great guy I was and that I could add to his manhood by introducing him to the great outdoors, he quickly became like the booger you just can’t shake off of your finger, and, eventually became like an old pair of sneakers that I just can’t part with; old, broken down, smelly, but near and dear to my heart.

     Herein lies the problem; because of his late start into the realm of becoming a sportsman, he has the propensity to want to claim many of my successes as his own. As a friend I tend to let it slide when he tells others how much better a fisherman he is than me; however, he has now come to a place where he believes his own stories. It is as though they have somehow become his reality. Fortunately, the stories that he will tell generally include me; therefore, if you have the opportunity to read any of his posts forthwith, know that most of his successes can really be attributed to me.

     Until my next post, beware any untruths or modifications that may be posted by those other than me .

With all sincerity and complete honesty

Troutchaser