Once you’re lucky, twice you’ve got the ass kissing down to a science

Deneki OutdoorsThere comes a time in a person’s life where they need to either shit or get off the pot. The original goal might have been altruistic – specifically, finding a cure for cancer, or non-specifically, creating world peace, but now re-evaluation becomes the order. You’ll likely flip the self-interest switch, focusing on reaching the summit of Mount Everest or redlining a Ferrari on the PCH – thrill you or kill you. But alas, you’re now sitting on the couch watching Discovery Channel, the Outdoor Network, or MotorWeek. That’s defined as failure. Time to let someone else use the commode.

When I was young, I too had a dream – it was to catch as many fish as possible before someone stuck me in a wooden box. At the time I didn’t think much about the path to achieving such a lofty goal – as I sat by this little pond down the street, taking in the mid-afternoon sun and picking off bream with a beat-up popper, I figured it would just come to me. Someday.

Decades later I’ve finally figured it out…to bag a lot of fish you have to smooch a lot of behind. Sounds crazy, but it’s true.

A passerby once inferred that I wasn’t a half-bad fly fisher. They were obviously steeped in heavy narcotics – I was certain it was all dumb luck. And when Andrew Bennett, head honcho for Deneki Outdoors, called me last April to ask if I would join a crew in South Andros for some bonefishing and blogging, my suspicions were [seemingly] confirmed.

For the past year I’ve been running around casting flies at anything that moved, and attributing the opportunities to a steady diet of four-leaved clovers and Feng shui. Then the phone rang [again], and my conclusion was submersed in turmoil. See, there’s going to be another FIBFest, and despite the stratospheric bar tab and brazen larceny at the poker table during the previous, I’ve been invited back.

I’m now chalking it up to skill, not in fly-fishing but in kissing that which crosses the threshold last. And I’m not going to apologize for it either.

MG signing off (to pucker up, and pack for The Bahamas)


Bjorn says:

Looking forward to getting down there. I’m hoping I don’t lose too much at the poker table… please be gentle.

[…] One of the folks heading there is Michael Gracie. […]

rachhillis says:

Well, congratulations Mr Ass Kisser. The Hillis house is once again supremely jealous that you are headed to Andros South. =)

But dang do I love you folks from ‘Bama.

Better pack plenty of chapstick for those purty lips of yours….

“Sun don’t bother me.”

Jim Holt says:

MG you never cease to amaze me!! 19 Reds on Saturday and 16 Trout on Sunday. I have done my share of ass kissing also, but now have people kissing mine. Talk to you soon.

Been meaning to tell ya’…won’t be making it down this spring. But it seems you don’t need my help (drinking the beers) anyway. 😉

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