Category Archives: They did what?
Dogs have a sense of humor too!
With howling winds blowing across Lake Michigan and Superior, temperatures plummeting and snow rising, deer and other foraging mammals herd up in numbers amongst their own kind seeking comfort and a chance at surviving until winter’s grip relents and spring returns with its allure of renewal. The hardcore traditionalist members of the Ostrich Society are no different. Those not following the migration to warmer states for the cold winter months also herd-up seeking comfort amongst their kind in an effort to give sanity a shot at returning with warmer days ….the culprit of course, is cabin fever.
It’s been an established tradition with the membership that at least once a week they gather in the President’s garage – heated with an old pot-bellied wood burning stove – to tie flies. Unlike the regular monthly meetings, these gatherings begin in mid-afternoon and last until the allotted wood supply for the meeting is used up and the bourbon’s insulating affect has worn off. Anywhere from four to a dozen members can be found sitting around card tables and along the workbench, glasses perched on the tips of their noses as they tie barbules of feathers, strands of fur and hair or yarn taken from their wives sewing baskets onto hooks varying in size.
Last Wednesday was such a gathering of the faithful. The meeting had not been officially called to order, it just sort of got underway when Al and Pete showed up, lit the stove and poured two fingers of Maker’s Mark. By the time they got halfway through tying an Early Black Stone, Bill and Sam arrived with Carl and Walt not far behind.
Pete and Walt had their bird dogs in tow – both Britts – and after some traditional crotch and butt sniffing, followed by robust rubbing behind the ears, they settled down next to the fire. The scene might not have been one out of a Courier and Ives depiction but if someone had taken a snapshot, it might have hung next to the picture of dogs playing poker.
Walt brought a new vise and was anxious to show it off. It had been a Christmas present from his kids and though there was nothing wrong with his old Renzetti presentation, he felt obligated to use the new one made of space aged plastic with a lot of extra gadgets sticking out from it. He wasn’t sure what all the gadgets were for, but he wanted the kids to have gotten their money’s worth, so he began to set it up as the picture showed on the box.
Pete was on his third Stone when Al looked over at Walt and asked what he was going to do with that erector set he brought with him? Walt didn’t take the bait and poured himself his first glass of two fingers worth. After a quick gulp, he returned to trying to put the vise together.
All of a sudden one of the dogs startled everyone when he let out a loud yelp, jumped up and began running in a circle like he was chasing his tail. Sam grabbed him when he got close enough and rubbed his backside which was smoking until the dog relaxed. The dog tried to lick at the spot where the smoke was rising from but couldn’t reach it. A bare spot was now evident where fur had been only seconds before and two other spots were noticed.
“That’s the third time this week that dumb dog burned himself because he inched his way too close to a fire,” Sam said as he took one of the ice cubes from his glass and touched it on the dog’s bare spot. “Three times now he burned himself lying in front of a fire just staring at me while I try to put this vise together.”
The dog settled down and the Society went back to tying flies, all except Walt who was still trying to put his new vise together.
“Have you ever had a hook in that vise, Al asked?
“I haven’t figured out how it goes together yet; I’ve poked myself with these extensions, crawled on my hands and knees looking for nuts and small bolts I dropped; I even got so frustrated I grabbed the whole thing and threw it on the ground.”
“Geez Walt,” said Pete. “That poor dog isn’t trying to set himself on fire intentionally, he’s laughing so hard watching you imitate a monkey playing with a football, trying to set up the vise, he forgets all about where he’s at and backs into the hot stove.”
After chuckles of agreement, Walt gave up on the hi-tech vise, poured two more fingers and rubbed the dog’s ears. He could swear the dog was shaking like someone laughing uncontrollably.
These events were reported to be THE TRUTH, WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH….give or take a lie or two!
TD
Category Archives: They did what?
The Gift!
At precisely 7:30 pm, amidst laughter and revelry, the President of the Ostrich Society struck the ball peen gavel on the workbench which was covered with wild game and homemade dishes provided by the members of the Society. It took two raps before the members quieted down enough to proceed.
A loud voice from next to the makeshift bar setup made the motion to dispense with normal business and proceed directly to the business at hand which was the continuation of the revelry which had begun an hour prior. In unison, members seconded the motion and the gavel struck once more and the President announced “Let the party begin.”
The garage – the official meeting place of the Ostrich Society – had been transformed from the usual rustic man-cave setting to a festive holiday motif: Greenery was strung through the rafters with pinecones hanging here and there and red and gold ribbon laced throughout. A small pine was standing on a table which had been dug from along the South Branch of the Au Sable. It would later be planted in a members yard.
Several members brought their bird dogs who, for the most part, were sitting next to where the food was displayed, sitting attentive in hopes of sharing the bounty. Others were sitting next to their hunting partners getting the occasional hand-out.
The mood was jovial. All were laughing, telling stories, all except Paul McBride, who was leaning against the bar drinking four fingers of bourbon. (The two finger rule had been relaxed for the occasion.) Paul wasn’t in the holiday spirit, he had suffered the loss of his hunting partner, Trescott, several weeks ago to a rare form of cancer.
Trescott was Paul’s German Shorthair Pointer of 11 years and his constant companion. Trescott would ride next to him in the truck, wait for him while he was in a store and sit in the front hall of the house staring at the door when Paul went out without him. They ate together, slept together, hunted together and were generally considered to be one entity. When the Vet diagnosed Trescott with cancer, it was as though Paul had been diagnosed. And when the end came, the life seemed to have left him too. Since that time, Paul just went through the motions of getting on with life, so the Society hatched a plan.
It was customary for members to give small gifts which ranged from flies to hand loaded shells. Occasionally a younger member would receive an old fly rod or shotgun from one of the “old timers” who decided the recipient would appreciate the item, respect its history and eventually pass it on.
The exchange had been going on for an hour when the door to the garage opened and a uniformed policeman entered. Seeing the uniform, the garage instinctively quieted down until it was clear the officer was none other than Jake McGraw.
Jake called out of service for his dinner break and helped himself to the wild game dishes he had helped provide. He pulled up a chair next to Paul and casually began a conversation about the call he had just come from. Someone had abandoned a litter of what looked to be German Shorthair pups. They were two or three months old and cute as buttons. He called animal control and they removed the pups to the shelter and were sure someone would adopt them. The shelter group would neuter and spay them before they were adopted.
Paul interjected after hearing that the pups would be neutered that it was a shame to neuter a fine hunter. Trescott had never been neutered and Paul was sorry he had not kept one of his offspring from one of the litters he sired. He lamented how great it would be to keep Trescott’s line going. He hadn’t noticed that the room went quiet. They all watched as Paul showed signs of life, talking with Jake about the pups. Jake asked if he Paul was serious. Paul thought for a moment then said, “I’d give anything to have a piece of Trescott in my life.”
A big grin appeared on Jake’s face as he got up and left the garage. When he returned, he held a squirming bundle of liver, white and black.
The President quickly explained the pup Jake held actually came from a litter in Minnesota that had been sired by a descendant of Trescott. Jake had driven there to get the pup. The members had concocted Jake’s story to find out what Paul’s thinking was about a new pup.
Paul, not being known to be sentimental, wiped a tear from the corner of his eye as the members cheered and wished him a Very Merry Christmas.
The annual prize of a bottle of fine bourbon awarded for the best gift was opened and shared by all.
The above is related as The Truth, Whole Truth And Nothing But The Truth …..give or take a lie or two!
Merry Christmas
Category Archives: They did what?
Political savvy!
The Ostrich Society went into their weekly session with the usual pomp and circumstance which consisted of the President slamming the ballpeen hammer on the workbench and announcing, “The meeting will come to order.”
There was the usual shuffling and filling of glasses with “two fingers” of bourbon, and of course, a chorus of “lay down and stay” given to several bird dogs. The only variation was Herman Schultz giving the command, “Platz,” to his German Short Hair, Fritz, who immediately took up his spot under Herman’s table.
The main order of business at the meeting was a discussion of who to endorse for public office. The Society was as apolitical as a rock, but the members did vote – most anyway – and wanted to make sure they were voting for the person who would hurt them the least.
The discussion began with comments about the advertisements both candidates ran; each one denouncing their opponent. Some were downright ugly, vicious and probably not totally true … but, one man’s truth is another man’s lie. The confusion about the ads was in not knowing who the groups were that claimed to be responsible for their content.
An hour had passed and they were still talking about how bad each candidate was according to the other and their support groups, when, Oleg, the official bartender of the Society, informed them they were running low on bourbon.
The announcement had the effect of a cold shower. There was a shuffling sound as they straightened in their chairs when someone asked, “Does anyone know anything positive about either candidate?” No one spoke up.
“Well, there is only one thing to do,” said Bill, who took the last swallow from his glass. “It seems to me, we ought to make a contribution to both candidate’s campaigns … just to make sure the winner knows there is money behind the Ostrich Society.”
The membership thought about what Bill said for a few minutes, then motioned and approved a sizable donation to both candidates.
“Now,” the President asked. “Who’s going to make a liquor store run?”
The preceding is reported as THE TRUTH, WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH …give or take a lie or two!
TD
Category Archives: They did what?
Community Service!
At precisely 7:30 the President struck the workbench with the ballpeen hammer and called the meeting of the Ostrich Society to order. Thirty four of the 35 members and eight bird dogs were in attendance, the only one absent was doing community service as a condition of probation for fishing without a license.
Oleg, the official bartender of the Ostrich Society, a duly elected and important position, was pouring “two fingers” of bourbon, the official drink of the Society. Oleg’s election to the position of bartender wasn’t a fluke, Oleg has the largest hands of anyone in the Society and therefore pours the healthiest drink …because of a mishap at a prior meeting, he made sure to keep his distance from the workbench.
The membership was spread out over several tables, each sporting tying vises and an array of tied flies and a few books with recipes. The only table without tying paraphernalia was the table in the corner of the garage where “Poaching Jack” and “Wild Bill” sat in low toned conversation.
After the treasurer gave his financial report that consisted of the club’s liability to the local liquor store and the balance of the emergency fund, a motion to accept the report was made and seconded. It passed unanimously after an admonishment by Harry Andrews about the amount of bourbon the Society goes through monthly.
“We understand, Reverend Harry,” John interrupted. “No one is asking for an increase for the cost of one of Oleg’s pours. It’s just a matter of routine that the report is made. Your glass is almost empty, let me buy you another.”
A slight chuckle came from the membership and the meeting went on.
“Poaching Jack” and “Wild Bill” were still holding their own meeting when the President struck the workbench again with the ballpeen hammer and announced that the business was completed and the social hour was now in session.
The “Shakers,” the oldest members of the Ostrich Society, were sitting around Henry, watching him tie a soft hackle pattern that seemed slightly different from any they had seen before. It had a body from a stripped quill grouse body feather and was tied in backwards, that is, the thick end was tied in first then wound forward as it got thinner. There was no tail and the hackle was a strand of a silver colored yarn, picked and separated to appear scraggly. It was tied on a size 8 hook and didn’t look as though it imitated anything other than a clump of lint at the end of a hook.
Meanwhile, “Poaching Jack” and “Wild Bill” were now mingling with the others and after watching Henry tie his pattern, changed the conversation to Tom Abercrombie, who was missing because he was doing community service after being sentenced by Judge Hoover, a former member of the society, for fishing without a license.
Both men thought the sentence was outrageous and the Society should take a stand …demonstrate, show support for Tom, who they thought was made an example of.
All nodded in agreement and “Wild Bill” continued. “We all know Tom Abercrombie is as honest as they come and wouldn’t do anything to break the law, that’s why he walked home instead of drove.
It happened the night Abercrombie left his Jeep at the President’s house and walked home. Events were set in motion at last month’s meeting when Tom Abercrombie had a couple of generous pours from Oleg after Oleg’s fingers were swollen when the President accidently struck him with the ballpeen hammer. Oleg had his hand on the workbench and neither he nor the President were paying attention when the meeting was called to order. The end result was Oleg’s regular pours became even more generous.
As Abercrombie walked past the fountain in front of the court house, he noticed what appeared to be trout in the fountain. Not believing his eyes, he decided to find out for sure and went home, got his fly rod and came back and began casting soft hackle flies to the fish. Nothing. Having gotten a second wind due to Oleg’s generosity, he kept at it until a cop came by and asked him what he was doing. Abercrombie explained he was trying to catch the trout in the fountain and return them to the creek where they belonged.
The cop looked into the fountain and saw nothing but change sparkling on the bottom and decided to arrest him for Drunk and Disorderly. That morning he was taken in front Judge Hoover who asked him where he had been, how he got there and what he thought he was doing. Tom told him what happened.
The judge laughed and asked if he had a fishing license on him at the time. He said he did have one, but not on him. The Judge hit his gavel and sentenced him to 10 hours of community service; enough time to clean the fountain, in particular, scrub the bottom to get rid of the discoloration and debris that had collected.
After hearing the story, some of the members began to laugh, which turned into belly laughs and spread throughout the garage.
Finally the President said, “What’s the big deal? The Judge could have put him in jail for being drunk and disorderly. He could have come down on us for serving him that night and he could have cost everyone a lot of money.”
The Reverend spoke up again, “Yea, including his brother-in-law, who owns the liquor store we owe money to.”
The preceding was entered into the official minutes of the Ostrich Society as THE TRUTH, WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH ….give or take a lie or two!
Category Archives: They did what?
Oh, CRaP
It was an hour before the meeting of the Ostrich Society was to meet in the garage of the President – the official meeting place of the Society. Warren Bullock knocked on the President’s door and was pacing in place, waiting for the President to answer the door. The President was still chewing his dinner when he opened the door and was stunned when Warren almost pushed him aside and came into the foyer.
“We have an emergency,” he said as he kept shifting from foot to foot. “There is a new “hue and cry” on Facebook that’s aimed at protecting the lifecycle of fish. The aim is to eliminate the trauma fish endure when they’re caught. They don’t just want them released, they don’t want them fished for in the first place.”
The President took this all in while swallowing the last bite of stuffed brook trout Mrs. President had baked from the mess of brookies he caught the day before on his beloved creek; the only name he ever gave to his favorite stretch of river …which he seldom shared.
“Calm down, Warren,” he said. “Who’s saying what, and what makes you think it’s more than just the normal moronic chatter from people who have a need to say whatever crosses their minds, but can’t find anyone to listen to them, so they type it, push a button and all of a sudden they have an audience?”
“This is different,” he said. “This group is organized. They have a name; they claim to have a charter and they’re taking donations to help in the “good fight” as they call it. Check it out yourself, if you don’t believe me. I’ll bet they sent you a link just like they did me.”
Sure enough, the President opened his Facebook page and found a post titled, “How would you like to be snagged?” and contained a link to a webpage called, Care – Respect- and Preserve – fish have feelings too …aka, CRaP!
The President offered Warren two-fingers-of-bourbon and returned to finish dinner. When he was done, he and Warren readied the garage for the meeting.
After the meeting was called to order, it didn’t take long for members to bring up CRaP. Those that hadn’t heard about it, listened while Warren, who was still agitated, brought the uninformed up to date until they were all full of CRaP. When he was done, the membership was so quiet you could hear a pin drip. They were looking back and forth at each other, shaking their heads. Finally Oleg, the official bartender of the Ostrich Society, opined that this wasn’t the first time someone had come up with CRaP and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
After more discussion about the problem CRaP could pose for fishermen everywhere, the general opinion was, if no one responded to CRaP on Facebook, in a few days it would just flush away.
The preceding is reported as THE TRUTH, WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH …give or take a lie or two.
TD
Category Archives: They did what?
Ostrich Society Steelhead Outing
The two-track was well rutted and the two wheel drive’s bottomed out on the center hub but kept going, scraping the under carriage of the well-worn fish cars. The two occupants in the first truck were the advance team for the Ostrich Society Steelhead Outing, sent to ready the campsite the group had used for the past 15 years. It wasn’t really necessary to send an advance team, the campsites were usually empty this early in the season, but the Society didn’t like to waste time on setup, so the advance team was formed and sent with specific instructions to reconnoiter and prepare a campsites.
Harold and Mac picked the short straw this year and with a full pickup bed, made the trek to the banks of the river. The steelhead had just begun to make their way upstream from the big lake and it was decided that the weekend would be too crowded with day packers, so they set the date of the camp for Monday. By Friday they would have had enough of sleeping in trucks, tents and a few in tents, and be ready to head back.
The Ostrich Society seldom stayed in motels. Motels were seen as a waste of money and a lazy man’s way of getting out-of-doors. If a fisherman was serious about fishing for a week with friends, he shouldn’t be confined by walls and rules. Setting up a camp with a cook tent – with everyone pitching in to prepare meals – just enhanced the experience.
Actually, the camp wasn’t as rustic as it sounded. Most of the campers were over 50 and had done this for a long time and had it down to a science. They even had a makeshift shower made from a beer keg, kept under pressure with a hand pump and attached to a hose with a showerhead. As they got older, the evening activities waned as the allure of a sleeping bag became as irresistible as an egg pattern to a steelhead.
Harold and Mac pulled into the cud-de-sac which created an island of sorts rung by the two-track and contained an old buck-pole that had been put up years ago constructed from lumber hewn from downed trees. It hadn’t been used for years, but was too big to rot quickly and now served more as a landmark and a backdrop for a fire pit.
The first order of business was to select a site for the cook tent. It would be the center of camp activity and was big enough not only for the propane griddles, but also the tables for eating ….and tying flies on.
The shower was set up next to the cook tent because it shared the propane tanks to heat the keg and produce at least warm water. The keg was big enough to hold enough water for 4 to 5 quick showers and would have to be taken to a well site with a hand pump to be refilled. Some took fewer showers than others since the one using the last of the water had to refill it.
By the time the others arrived, most just had to pitch a tent or back their trucks with campers into a spot that formed a ring around the cook tent. Setting up a privy was everyone’s responsibility, the only mandate agreed on was it needed to be far away from the cook tent. They didn’t want competition with the smell of morning coffee and frying bacon.
The Ostrich Society always traveled with its own bartender. Oleg Johansen was the official bartender of the Society; having been duly elected by the membership, and traveled with them on the traditional outings. A kitty was created to cover the cost of the bourbon, but each man gave Oleg a couple of flies for every drink he poured them. It was a win/win situation: Oleg was responsible that the camp didn’t run out of bourbon, and since Oleg didn’t tie his own flies, well….he didn’t need to.
By Friday, the camp was well broke-in: Showers, meals and daily cleanup was down to a science and the camp was quite comfortable. The weather obliged by temperatures staying tolerable – not too hot during the day and not too cold at night. It had only rained for half a day and then not too hard. The camp dried out quickly.
Fish were caught; some kept, most released; a few lost. All were satisfied. Saturday morning, after breakfast consisting of coffee, bacon and eggs, pancakes and fishcakes made with left over mashed potatoes and steelhead fillets, camp was struck and everything brought in was taken out.
Making their way back to the highway, Harold and Mack were the last to negotiate the two-track, scraping the under carriage of the two wheel drive. It was the parting sound of another great trip put on by the Ostrich Society.
The preceding is reported as …THE TRUTH, WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH …give or take a lie or two!
TD
Category Archives: They did what?
“Poaching Jack”
Even before the President of the Ostrich Society hit the gavel on the workbench, the attending members had been busy making final plans for their annual opening day trip to the several places (some never mentioned by name) that have been the site of their traditional rituals. Several groups had formed and the chatter between them all sounded like squirrels sitting on top of fences, teasing a dog by twitching their tails and chattering in various degrees of pitch.
It took several wraps of the ballpeen gavel to quiet the conclave so the president could call the meeting to order. A voice from the back of the garage made the motion to dispense with the usual formalities so the final plans could be made for the upcoming trips. A second was heard and the president struck the workbench again and recognized George Holloway.
George was fishing manager at the local Orvis shop and reminded the membership that Orvis was having a sale on rod and reel combinations and other tackle and he’d be glad to open the store for last minute purchases.
Oleg Johanson asked how much of a deal Orvis was giving. He said it would have to be a big one, to justify spending a thousand dollars on a rod and reel just to catch an eight inch fish.
Laughter broke out as George tried to make a rational argument about the cost of the new rods and reels, but soon realized he wasn’t making any headway as the comments kept coming followed by belly laughs at the mere thought of members of the Ostrich Society spending that kind of money to catch fish.
“Poaching Jack” spoke up with, “You don’t need a rod and reel at all. There are other, cheaper, ways to put fish in a creel.” Again laughter broke out as visions of “Poaching Jack” cranking the handle of his army surplus field phone as wires hung over a bank into the water and stunned fish floated to the surface.
Realizing the implication, “Poaching Jack” injected that they misunderstood. He wasn’t talking about doing anything illegal; he was talking about simply using your head to outwit the fish.
He was fishing the North Branch just south of the bridge in Lovell in front of a cabin on the west side where a Lab and Brittany were romping around. He was working a hole where a fish had been rising to a hatch of Hendricksons without success. He saw the fish, a nice brown, and it was slurping duns from the surface, but he just couldn’t get it to take one of his ties. Just as he was changing flies, the two dogs came splashing over wagging their tails, sniffing his waders expecting to get petted. The owner yelled for the dogs to come and apologized for their interruption of Jack’s fishing. It was too late; the fish had been put down. He moved further down seam and began casting to another fish. After a while he noticed another fisherman standing in the same spot he had been, casting to the same fish when the two dogs came out to greet him, putting the fish down in the process.
What he saw next gave him an idea. When the dogs sloshed through the water, the brown flashed and darted from the hole downstream into a channel that led to a small patch of vegetation and disappeared. Hmmm.
“Poaching Jack” was a tactician if nothing else. So he waded to a spot on the bank where he could observe and watched for a while to see if his plan had a chance of working. After an hour, and several fishermen being greeted by the two dogs with the owner apologizing each time, he decided the dogs were doing what they were supposed to, that being to keep people from fishing in front of the guy’s cabin.
After a while, Jack positioned himself downstream from the hole that held the brown and waited. Soon another fisherman appeared and as he began casting to the brown, the two dogs appeared and entered the water to greet the Piscator causing the brown to dart from the hole and swim into the channel heading toward the vegetation. Standing over the channel, “Poaching Jack” grabbed his landing net from the magnetic holder on the back of his vest and held it straight down blocking the channel. When he felt a thud he picked it up the net and admired the brown.
The membership broke out in laughter as Jack continued. “I was there with my old Pfleuger outfit and the landing net I won in a raffle last year and the whole thing cost me seventy five bucks.”
The preceding was recorded in the Ostrich Society minutes as THE TRUTH, WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH ….Give or take a lie or two.
TD
Category Archives: They did what?
No Smoking
The September meeting of the Ostrich Society is customarily one of the busiest meetings of the year causing the President’s garage – the official meeting place of the Society -to overflow with members, some of whom only make an occasional meeting and this is one of them. Tables are crammed into the two and a half car garage and occupied by guys of like interests and long time acquaintances.
The reason for this overflowing turnout is because September marks the end and beginning of activities that have been enjoyed and participated in for more years than most want to remember. Bill Mason, one of the oldest in attendance was holding court at one of the tables as Chet Krause was tying egg patterns on his home made vise. It was such an odd contraption, the newer members couldn’t understand why he had it, especially since he owned a car dealership and money wasn’t a concern. But, Chet was from the old school which taught him to stick with what works and that old vise had been holding hooks for over 40 years.
The conversation at the table centered around the annual salmon trip to the Betsie River. The “Shakers” as those sitting with Chet were known, were making final plans for their annual salmon camp. Chet was tying flies while Bill finalized the logistics and assigned each member going a job. When all assignments were handed out, they raised their glasses of two fingers of bourbon and toasted another year of what they hoped would be many more to come.
Across the room was the non-smoking section. Smoking wasn’t allowed not because they wanted to be politically correct, but because Al and Jake were reloading shotgun shells and there was gunpowder on the table. Al was loading 12 gauge shells on his Sizemaster re-loader and Jake was reloading 20’s. They had been saving hulls from past hunts and from skeet and trap rounds which others had contributed to as well. They liked to reload so it was their job to provide the shells for grouse camp which was about to take place the first weekend of October and last two weeks. There were nine regulars who made the trip and it was decided long ago that any new members who wanted to take part would have to be voted on by the original nine. Of course, there was criteria applicants had to meet, such as having a good grouse dog, only hunt with a double barrel shotgun and provide a case of fine bourbon as an initiation fee (the first two requirements could be waived by a majority vote).
Calling the meeting to order, the President announced that the October meeting would be canceled since none of the Board would be available because they were either at salmon or grouse camp, and some would divide their time between both camps. A motion was made by Lars to dispense with the usual business which passed unanimously.
After several hours of tying flies, reloading shells with plans having been finalized, all that remained was the usual closing of the meeting. The President made the comment that the Society ought to have a ceremony of sorts to mark this annual transition from “fins to feathers”. Horace McCain who was sitting at the tying table smoking his pipe filled with Cherry Blend tobacco, rose and as he walked over to a trash can to empty his pipe bowl, tripped over Jake’s lab and dropped the pipe from his mouth which landed on the reloading table spilling embers of lit tobacco onto the table and into loose grains of gunpowder that had fallen from the re-loaders and were now ignited by the lit tobacco. As the powder flashed, Al and Chet knocked over the sack of shells which rolled all over the garage floor, the dogs lying around the room were waiting for a “dead bird” command after smelling the burned gunpowder and Horace broke his glasses when he fell. Chet Krause ended up with hooks in his hand and the President began hitting the workbench with the hammer which substituted for a gavel all the while laughing uncontrollably..
“When I said we ought to have a closing ceremony, I didn’t mean for it to happen immediately.” He said.
Two more fingers of bourbon was poured and this account was entered into the official minutes of the Ostrich Society as THE TRUTH, WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH …..give or take a lie or two!
Category Archives: They did what?
Feathers Don’t Grow On Trees!
Twice each year the Ostrich Society amends their meeting schedule to accommodate the members in their pursuit of Natives and Bonasa Umbellus. (For the uninformed, that’s brook trout and grouse.) So it was a surprise when the President of the Society called for a meeting at this particular time of year to discuss an item he deemed to be of extreme importance to the membership as a whole. He didn’t elaborate, he just set the date and time and issued the dictum that all were expected to attend.
By the time the ball-peen hammer hit the workbench in the President’s garage calling the meeting to order, the membership had already availed themselves to “two fingers” of bourbon and were engaged in discussion about the importance of the meeting, wondering why the President would interrupt his annual trek to the Manistee during the Hex hatch.
There was speculation that the Society had lost its debate with the State over its status as a “non-profit” because the State Liquor Control Committee noticed the Society’s volume of bourbon purchased, and threatened to make the Society apply for a liquor license. Others surmised that the City had noticed the racks of rods, waders and other necessities in the Presidents garage during an inspection for an addition he applied for and accused him of operating a sporting goods store. It wasn’t a problem as far as they were concerned, they just wanted him to pay a personal property tax on the merchandise he had for sale – no one could believe one man owned all those rods and other related equipment until Mrs. President set them straight.
The President was in no mood to be distracted. “Quiet down and pay attention. What I called you here for is of immense importance to everyone and we need to decide on a course of action.”
Suddenly you could hear a pin drop. The President had never been so serious.”As you know I spend most of the summer on one trout stream or another and this year is no exception – and most of you do too. I stop in local fly-shops to catch up on local happenings and the latest stream conditions and I always check out their supply of flies and feathers.”
They were with him so far; heads were nodding in agreement. He went on.
“At two shops I saw empty and almost empty racks where hackle used to be displayed. I thought it just a matter of poor inventory control until I found the same thing at the third shop. I asked about why they would be so devoid of feathers and was astounded at the answer.” He had everyone’s attention; no glass touched anyone’s lips as he continued.
“Kids, young kids, girls to be exact were buying any and all feathers they could weave, clip or tie into their hair. It’s so popular that beauty shops are offering the service and guess where they get the feathers from? That’s right; from the same places we buy them to tie our flies.”
Carl, the lawyer of the Society spoke up suggesting they needed to stock up and buy them from the net. Others agreed and thought they had solved the problem until the President continued.
“I checked into that and found it just as hard to get them ever the inter-net and for the same reason. It seems the feather merchants who we’ve been making rich over the years are getting a windfall from this new found use for their feathers. I even checked e-bay and found one neck being bid up to $385 and the bidding wasn’t over.”
Now glasses were refilled and large gulps were taken. Some even reached for their wallets. There was no doubt the President had stumbled onto something serious enough to call this meeting.
It was time to offer a plan of action. “While I was talking to Andy in the last shop, a teenager came in with enough feathers of various colors in her hair I thought she might be from one of the Tribes. I was tempted to ask her if the display of feathers had some significance but decided to just listen. Finding the rack empty, she asked Andy when he was going to get more and could he order some rainbow colors.”
The members got puzzled looks on their faces. They were intrigued by the rainbow comment.
“It seems she thought the feathers were synthetic and were made at a factory. You should have seen the look on her face when Andy told her the feathers came from chickens and there were no rainbow chickens available.”
“You mean you kill the chickens to get the feathers?” she asked. “Ooooh gross.”
“She had the same reaction my wife had when we passed a farm with calf pens and I told her that’s where the veal she orders at the Roma comes from. The last time we were there she ordered spaghetti.
Suddenly they knew what they had to do.
These minutes are submitted for the record to be THE TRUTH, WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH ……give or take a lie or two.
TD
Category Archives: They did what?
Controlled Drinking
The meeting was called to order at 7:30 sharp by the President of the Ostrich Society in the usual meeting place with the usual members in attendance. There was business that needed to be disposed of and for the first time in months there was no motion from the floor to dispense with the usual order of business and get straight to a discussion of the up-coming trip to fish camp at Warlo’s Creek.
It had come to the attention of the President that a couple of new members had been complaining about the drinking habits of the Society and being from a younger generation, they thought it was time for the “old timers” to clean up their act and make the Society more in tune with the times.
Rumors being faster than lightning, it wasn’t long before the word got out to the “old timers” and still being in the majority, they decided to nip this insurrection in the bud. So after a few phone calls, it was decided that the issue should be put to rest and a resolution be made part of the by-laws.
The President spoke first and directed Harold, leader of the “youngsters” as they were called to make their case. Harold, a manager at the local phone company said the Society was becoming the laughing stock of the community because of their out of touch attitude about alcohol. It was pointed out to him by his wife who heard it from a friend of a neighbor’s wife who was told by a member of the sanitation crew that picked up garbage the day after a Society meeting, that there were more bourbon bottles in the trash in front of the President’s house than in the trash of the local bar. In short, it was embarrassing to him, being a member of the Society and all.
He went on to say, after talking to other members, he discovered he wasn’t alone in his thoughts so they came up with the following resolution:
Be it resolved that any drinks poured at a Society function be poured by a person designated as bartender and all drinks would be of the same size and amount. No member shall be allowed to consume any amount of alcohol in a single drink greater than “two fingers” in volume in a designated glass.
Thinking about the situation, Jake Johnston, one of the founding members of the Society, spoke up endorsing the resolution and adding that the bartender should be an elected position. Harold and his supporters were stunned but agreed.
The President struck the gavel on the workbench and asked for a show of hands of all in support. It was unanimous. He then asked if there were any nominations for position of bartender and Jake nominated Oleg Johansson who sheepishly accepted the nomination and was elected before Harold or his friends had a chance to think about what just happened.
Oleg took his place behind the makeshift bar and began performing his duties of pouring out glasses of bourbon, two fingers worth at a time.
Now Bill spoke up and made a motion to dispense with any other business and get straight to planning the trout opener trip to Warlo’s Creek. The motion was seconded and approved and discussion was had about what flies to tie in preparation and who was making the trip.
Vises broke out and Hendricksons (duns and spinners) were tied along with blue wing olives and several attractor patterns. Several new patterns were discussed and tied with new material and two hours later there were several dozen flies piled on the table.
Oleg had been too busy being bartender to tie his own so Jake made up an assortment for him and thanked him for his service. All applauded in agreement.
By the end of the night there were two more empty bottles of bourbon in the trash than normal which didn’t go un-noticed by Harold. But how could that be? Members weren’t pouring their own drinks anymore, there should have only been half the amount of empty bottles there were in the past.
Just then Oleg came over to shake Harold’s hand thanking him for his vote for the new Ostrich Society Board Position. When Oleg wrapped his hand around Harold’s, Harold pulled back in pain as this mound of muscle enveloped his hand and squeezed leaving only a wrist to be seen sticking out from Oleg’s grip.
Jake, Bill, the President and the other “old timers” laughed uncontrollably. Someone finally spoke up thanking Harold for his good idea of getting a controlled pour of two fingers per drink. “By the way, did you know Oleg was a lumberjack in Wisconsin and was known as having the biggest hands in Dorr County?”
The meeting was adjourned at 11:48 pm and these minutes are respectfully submitted as THE TRUTH, WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH……give or take a lie or two!